Day 1, Part 2 - Don't know Why

I just talked with a long-time friend of mine on the phone. He is nice, but never very supportive of my having bipolar. I had a bit of time between activities. (Next one is a shower, thank goodness.) I called him because, even though we aren't very close, we used to be, and frankly, the only person's number I could remember.

As we talked, I stared out my skinny wide window marvelling at the town, the air from the vents from each building white and billowy. It must be cold out. He was nice enough, but not very supportive. He doesn't believe in mental illness. He thinks that reading a book would fix me. While that might distract me, it won't fix me. I've tried distracting myself for days and it hasn't helped. It comes right back. I stood, staring out the window crying, watching the world go by, the cars inching along. The truth is, I don't know why I'm sad. I don't know why I keep crying. I don't know why I have the visions. I don't know why I sometimes hear the voices. I don't know that I *am* sad. I feel sad, but the thoughts of "this bad thing happened and now I'm sad" are just not there. There is no memory of any sort like that.

At the moment, I feel fine because my sessions on the computer here are my godsend. They are my ticket out into the real world. They help me collect my thoughts so that maybe when the doctors come around to ask me how I fell I can be able to tell them more easily. Maybe my bipolar friend will read it and comment. I really love her. She is a great, supportive person. She and I are there for each other. We normally communicate on another site that I don't remember the password for, so she'll read these or not.

So far, everything seems normal. Nobody screaming. People don't talk much, but its quiet. People are milling from place to place. There aren't people that stand out, yet. Well, there's one: he was in the psych ER with me. He was prescribed Zyprexa I noticed but that's all I know. I don't really relish talking to other people I don't know with psych. issues, mainly because I am at such a low reserve myself that I don't think I'd have that much to give at all. Boy! Do I miss my friend who is also bipolar, Chris. Maybe she will post here. I don't have any other way to contact her right now.

I am scared. I am scared to do therapy. I'm scared to find out why I am feeling the way I do. I think finding out will make it worse. I know that more crying is in my future. If it weren't or writing here, I'd feel very alone.

The rabit just got another round of little tasty Skittles. I like red the best. I wish they'd give me the red ones.