Tomorrow I turn 25. Most people just roll their eyes and say, "shut up Faith, it's not a big deal." For me it is.
As many of you already know, I talk to my cat. A lot. In fact, if I ever do write a book it's probably going to be addressed to my cat. It's just a lot easier for me to talk to Daisy. She doesn't judge me.
This is going to be difficult to write because it's difficult stuff to talk about and my thoughts are all over the place, but here I go. I'm not doing well mentally. Physically I'm doing pretty well. Mentally I'm completely unstable. *CLICK IMAGE FOR FULL BLOG POST*
I start with everything I'm failing at. I tell her all about the dishes in the sink I'm not doing, the laundry I'm neglecting, how I should be on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor making sure it's spotless and smells perfect before Ben gets home. *CLICK IMAGE FOR FULL BLOG POST*
My therapist always tries to normalize my condition. She will say, "Everyone feels the things you do, you just feel them on extreme levels." And I guess she's right. But how am I supposed to explain to someone without bipolar how things like death impact me mentally and emotionally. Not just personal death. Any death. Seeing deer dead on the back of a truck. *CLICK IMAGE FOR FULL BLOG POST*
I've been depressed. Pretty deeply depressed. The kind where I only leave the house to go to work because I can't even get out of bed. This being said, I haven't had the energy, motivation, or imagination to write a decent blog post for you guys. *CLICK IMAGE FOR FULL BLOG POST*