So, I have been filling in my mood chart each day. Well done me! Firstly, I have noticed since I started blogging that I often start my blogs with so… I realise some find that annoying but it’s how I feel! Anyway, back to the mood chart. I ticked off a normal today – that’s good, isn’t it?! The thing is, I haven’t felt high, I haven’t felt low but to be completely honest on these normal days I haven’t always felt normal. I have felt rather empty. I don’t know what it means by normal anymore. Maybe this empty feeling is normal, it’s not high or low so I guess it must be? Does anyone know where empty and nothingy comes on the chart?
I’m strangely ok with empty and nothingy. It’s kind of a non feeling, is this normal? It’s something that I’m really not used to. It’s that calm feeling again. I wish I could explain it a little better. I have spent my day with a friend, had a lovely day. My car passed it’s mot when I thought it was going to cost me lots to get it through. I would usually be over the moon, yet whilst I am pleased and it made me smile, that was it. I forgot about it five minutes later, right up until I consciously sat here thinking about what I’d done today. It’s kind of a ‘oh good, that’s pleased me’ whereas before it would have been amazing, I would have been so happy about it. Is this normal? I don’t know.
So, I will continue to fill in my mood chart not really knowing what mood I’m in and what normal is. Weirdly calm, a little empty and nothingy is not on there, maybe that’s normal, I just don’t know…
Apparently I'm Bipolar 
This is 100% me every night when I do my mood chart. I feel ya, friend!
This is an awesome post from a tumblr person named “inkskinned” that relates:”On a scale of one to ten, how do you feel?” You almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that it’s not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. you’re just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five. the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterday’s close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.
and what if. what if tomorrow it’s a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but you’re stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like can’t-eat, like the tide isn’t just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now you’ve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.
you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. you’ve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes you’re fine. and you’re kind of used to it. and it’s not sad, it’s just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i can’t remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i can’t be bothered to fix it. that’s not sad that’s every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like they’ve been shut off. right.
maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but i’m also not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i don’t want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i can’t worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if –
“on a scale of one to ten,” he repeats into your silence, and then pauses. “and please be honest about this.”
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This is brilliant – thank you xx
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