Cyclothymia, One Day At A Time

I recently asked my boyfriend "can you tell when I'm neither manic nor depressive?" He jokingly replied "yes, you're asleep." It was said affectionately with a smile and a kiss, and I liked it. Because this illness is me. It doesn't define me as such, but It's in every moment of my life, whether I'm up, down or neither. It's a weird thought, but a strangely agreeable one. I once read that Thich Nhat Hanh said we should go to our pain as a mother goes to her baby. I didn't understand at the time, but that was before my diagnosis. Learning to go to each mood or symptom as I experience it has changed everything. It involved learning not to berate myself for not being able to cope sometimes, managing my unstable behaviour as best I can and most importantly, listening to what my disorder is doing. Looking after myself. It may not be ideal but it's how it is. I can take my medication to try to manage the symptoms. I can sleep when I need to, eat healthily and try to face the world instead of hiding. Accepting me means accepting my disorder; for now, at least, that is how I live.