the life of zooey who happens to be Bipolar 2
No, not the band. Me.
Recently, I’ve been plagued with thoughts of dying…of not living enough. I wake up with the scenario and it plays out in my head, making me sad. Not depressed, just sad. I think of dying before I ‘expect to die’ which, in itself, is a long way away. Ironically, in the past, I wanted to just end that entirely and check out permanently. No I have a different conundrum. I’m too happy?
Funny, eh? I’ve been so happy lately that I think it will all come crashing down soon. I have a husband now who absolutely adores me and tells me so and shows me in so many ways. We have so much fun together. I cherish and love him so much. How did I land a dream-man? I still have no idea. I can’t imagine life without him, ever. I am afraid I won’t have enough happy time left. I want my days on earth as a happy person to fully outweigh those ‘other’ days. Desperately.
Will it be my health? Will that be my downfall as I approach the next decade of my life? I do the math. I think about how old my grandparents were before they passed. How old my parents are now. I have very few decades left. Whatever I have left just won’t be enough time with the dear hubby. I guess approaching 50 early next year had brought this out. Fuck, I don’t FEEl like I am almost 50 at all.
How to get past these panic moments, sometimes for days, as I move with joy around the dance floor with my soul mate? How to not listen for that other shoe to drop? I want to just live every day to the fullest like dear hubby says.
I so want to. I guess I’ll just keep on dancing and hope for the best.
p.s. Thank you meds for letting me be sad and panicky but not depressed. Wow, I just said that!