A day in the life of this cyclothymic.

Managed to drag my sorry arse out of bed for a shower and a couple of weetabix.

Then grocery shopping.

Forgot I needed a radiator key. Patently, couldn’t wait, so HAD to go to the DIY store.

Got home. Bled the bedroom radiator. Then, obviously had to bleed ALL the radiators.

Felt an overwhelming compulsion to start making new cushion covers.

Couldn’t find my sewing stuff, so emptied all the cupboards. Had to get the stepladder out. Not anywhere inside the house.

Spent 20 minutes in the rain, checking outside. Finally Phil reminded me we had moved stuff into a new box.

Found the new box. Cut out appliques for new cushions. Contemplated getting sewing machine out but decided to leave that for another day.

Worked on my journal.

Yoghurt for lunch (yes it’s still only lunchtime).

Collapsed, exhausted on the sofa (if I don’t get stuff done by lunchtime I run out of energy).

But ….cushion covers not finished; blog was started, need to finish it; ironing to do; knitting projects on the back burner need completing; still hungry but can’t be bothered to make food; journal still not ‘right’.

Began to feel twitchy.



Started to cry.

Then the eternal question from Phil:

‘What’s wrong?’

As if I know the answer. As if, did I know the answer, I wouldn’t do something to change my behaviour.

And off to bed I go, to chill (without diazepam, for a change). Another afternoon alone, trying to avoid thinking.

This was an up and active morning.

Some days I just sit under a duvet downstairs with the puppies waiting for bedtime to come round.

Thinking of a reason to still be here. Something to keep me going for another 24 hours.

Hence puppies.


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