So as far as you guys can see, I’ve been away for a short while. I’ve been grieving the loss of my boyfriend, the one person I could depend on more than anything. He suddenly passed on May 7th. I started this blog not long after to try and keep myself sane and going, but I guess I was just in denial about what happened.
I stopped writing a few days before his funeral and that’s when things got tough. I spent more time with his family and I grew really close to his brother. I threw myself into going to the pub near enough every night after the funeral for a good month. I was a wreck.
I always thought grieving wouldn’t be different with bipolar but I guess it really is. I never went through the 5 stages of grieving (if so, I guess I’m still stuck on denial) but instead I lost myself. I took myself you of my daily routine of waking up at the same time, eating and so on I stopped going boxing because I hated how it made me feel without him. I was such a mess. And the only time I figured something was wrong was when I actually screamed at my mother for the first time since before I was diagnosed with Bipolar. I knew I was getting myself into a state and I would end up having a breakdown and an episode. And I couldn’t do that.
Instead of putting myself on the line and trying to make myself worse with my constant drinking habit and my sabotaged routine, I knew I needed to change my life around, especially for his sake. He was my first and only love and I knew this would have to get easier.
3 months later: I’m sill suffering. But I’m not in the rut I was in. I took a break from working (so now I’m unemployed, but I feel so much better for not having job-related stress too) but have decided I want to start building myself a career again. I have my routine back an I’m even boxing again.
I went to see his mum on Saturday. This was the real heart-breaker for me. Sure, she calls me almost every day and has done for the last 3 months, but she wanted me to help her sort some of his belongings from his bedroom. And we sat there for over 6 hours speechless whilst we boxed things. I broke down so much but I never wanted her to see me like this. I was not throwing myself back into the anger and denial: which I have now learnt was the mania and psychosis. I’m just learning how to manage.
But on a lighter note: I’m back!