It’s been over a week since the tides changed, the ones that could’ve certainly driven me to a full hypomania followed by crippling depression. The initial episodes lasted for days at a time, of feeling agitated, nervous and anxious, with my mind spinning around and around like it was put in a washing machine. With help from some pharmaceuticals, following strict schedules and support from my BF, those bouts of rumination became progressively shorter, and though it wasn’t easy to get there, I did not succumb to a full-blown episode. Once again, the tides have begun to change its course, and it is now considerably smoother than what it had been for the past week or so. I’m beginning to take less and less alprazolam, stuff that would almost instantly attempt to smother the mind jitters, and I find myself making less futile attempts to be able to catch my breath. I’m awake, and not curled up in a ball, clinging onto my mental surfboard just waiting out the vicious tides to stop.
Right now, I am starting to feel relieved. Last night, I thought I had a moment of clarity—which of course, went away quickly as it came, but at least I had one. What I have to remember, though, is that this isn’t time for me to feel relief. Rather, this moment requires self-vigilance above all else. One thing we know is that tides change. And I have to keep riding the waves as they start to recede. If I get off my surfboard now, I could easily be swallowed up by the water. I have to tell myself that I will be able to go back to the shore for a break once I finish riding out this current ride.
I am starting to be able to see the shore, and realize that I’m not too far away from finding both my feet on the ground. When I get back to solid landing, I will be looking forward to maybe getting a new surfboard to ride out these adventures. After all, a girl’s gotta shop for something cute to go with her ups and downs :)