Are we really supposed to tell our loved ones how we really feel?

I feel really stupid and dumb. My child asked how I was doing in a text. Told her mixed episodes and that I am seeing the psychiatrist tomorrow.

She said no not the bipolar you. How stupid was my answer.

Although it is the truth of how I feel, I should not have said it. They don’t need to know how I am feeling at the moment when I experiencing bipolar symptoms like paranoia. From now own, I must write myself a note, not to talk about it with anyone except the psychiatrist and the therapist and my journal. This is one of the lonely times I was talking about, but it is ok because I am ok with me and I am the only one who has to do with me every moment of the day. I can seclude myself from everyone else so they will not be affected.

Has anyone else felt alone. Like you can’t or should not tell the truth about how you are feeling? It is hard for your family and friends to hear and sometimes they don’t really want the details. Just good, great, fine and how are you, in the meantime you feel so mixed up and upside down.

The end result is that I said I was doing great.  I was back into woodworking (didn’t tell her that’s what I do when restless which leads to mania), started a blog (didn’t tell her about what because that is related to the bipolar) and something else.  I really am ok with spending the day alone again.

Any answers or suggestions or comments to today’s question/  Are we really supposed to tell our loved ones how we really feel?


Can you relate to any of this?

At times I displayed irrational behavior, my thinking was what I call “stinking thinking” (it was so unrealistic and untrue).   I would have angry outbursts that were full of rage.  I was given the name, “the hulk” by a dear friend after they saw me turn from being laid back to a raging maniac.  I was so enraged, I could have honestly hurt someone if that person had not calmed me down.

Sometimes it would take hours for me to totally calm down and when I did, I was exhausted.

At times, I would just get so full of rage that I could feel it in every part of my body.  I would speed whether on the highway or local roads.  I thought if I could just crash into a tree or a brick building, the rage would leave.  The thought of me getting hurt or hurting someone else was ludicrous.

Some days started out carefree.  Nothing bothered me.  Then as though someone had turned on a switch, I would become irritated at nothing.  The irritation would grow to the point of me screaming and yelling at my children for minor things.

The flip side: I would sit down for hours and write out business plans for several businesses.  I would be able to sit and type and research for hours. My mind was always racing from one idea to another.  There was nothing I could not accomplish.

Sometimes I was so wound up I would drive like I was on a racetrack. Sometimes I see visions of myself drowning, I am sure you get the point.  I was and sometimes still do  reacting to situations instead of taking time to think things through and respond.

I realize in writing this post that sometimes I used the past and sometimes the present.  The bottom line is that somethings have been controlled and plans have been put into action to deal with those things.  Somethings still happen.

Living with bipolar is an ongoing process.  I make it day by day and sometimes moment by moment.  It is work.  But I am willing to do it because I am worth it.