Not knowing gives me anxiety. Anxiety makes me panic. Dealing with panic makes me lost and tired. Which makes things confusing for others. Creating ambiguity.
I’ve worked for years on my anxiety issues. Trying to deal with the unknown. Trying to be ok with not being in charge. For something who has been manipulated for years after dealt with disassociation, it’s very very difficult to not try to be in control all the time. Esp given how a bipolar mind goes berserk if allowed to.
Assurances help me. But that is dependent on others feeling like reassuring you. And I’m trying to be independent.
I’ve been a sad nervous wreck for the whole day since I didn’t know where our relationship is headed. A doesn’t want to again be in a dead end relationship and waste time. So I’m always scared that if things don’t work out he is going to break up. The fear alone pushes me into a bad state. Not just the fear of losing him. But of not knowing.
I’ve realised that I stopped working on my anxiety. I was tired and have been lax with myself wanting to rely on support. I forget that bipolar isn’t tired. It doesn’t want a break or be nice while dependent. It wants to hunt me down and stab me when I’m tired just to remind me that rest is for the privileged. I have work. Constantly. Unpaid, unappreciated, unvalued, unsupported work. I’ve to do the work of a therapist, of medication, of a supportive partner, a parent and an adult.
I have roles to play and work to do. I don’t have the luxury to be Jack, the dull boy. That’s for people with privilege.