Been a Long Time

It's been a long time since I've done any writing, as you can tell.   I'm a firm believer that I should have something worth sharing, rather than just blithering on about whatever little detail is stuck in my head.  So many people do that in their blogs...can't say I am all that wild about reading about someone moaning over their laundry and how long it took to do it and they're still not done yet.   You know what I mean.  That's the kind of life I've been leading over the last several months. 

What has been post worthy, I've probably posted something similar about it before.  Just something of a continuation in a theme in my life, with no new insights to share.  So, in my mind, that rendered it un-post worthy. 

Lately, I've had a sense of reaching for something.  What or where, I don't know.  I am not trying to make contact with friends or family.  I'm just as withdrawn as ever.  I'm certainly not doing it here.  Maybe it's more of a yearning.  Longing.  Wanting my life back.  I've known for some time that nothing is ever going to be the same...and it shouldn't be.   We know where that leads.  Somehow I have to figure out what life is supposed to be like and I'm not sure what that is.  All I know is what it is right now is not necessarily what I want.

I miss working.  I like having a job.  All the jobs I have had have ultimately made me ill, so it's hard to conceive of a job that won't.  Especially when you consider my work ethic.  I tend to throw myself into things.  (Gee, what a surprise.  A bipolar with no sense of balance?  Surely, you jest...).  Here I am without a job, completely inert.  I feel like there are only two worlds to choose from.  And I know that's not how most people live their lives, so there are some skills I need to learn.  Where do I learn them?  Is this something my therapist is supposed to be teaching me?  If not, who?

In March it will be 2 years since I stopped working.  I have achieved a greater level of stability, but don't feel any healthier than I was when I stopped.  Granted, I got far sicker after that, and I'm definitely better than that point, but judging by the level I was at when I stopped, I'm not much better.  I just don't cry like I did then.  How much of that is through the wonders of medication?  Hard to say.

Now, I'm also stuck in a hard position.  I had arranged to go through retraining, but am now in a situation where I have no childcare.  No idea when that will change, but it won't be any time soon.  So there's no getting out of the house for me at all.  It may not be until September that I can put an eye toward any idea of work options.  That in itself is depressing.

At the moment, I wish I was "normal".