Thursday, October 12, 2006

Cloudy days bother me

Today was hell to wake up. It's so weird how clouds outside my house can make it so difficult to get out of bed inside my house. What's the difference? Some may say it is the light issue, not enough sunshine coming through the windows...but I have very heavy curtains that don't let light in regardless. Oh well...I finally got up and went to work...ten minutes late. This bothers me too. My boss usually gets in about five minutes late everyday. So I can usually be the first to the office even if I'm running a little late. But today was different and it looks bad on me. But in all reality, I probably got there only five minutes after she did.

Enough of the whining and complaining...well almost. I was thinking about how a lot of people with Bpd are so creative...artistic or musically. I am not creative. I am not inclined to paint or draw or sing when I'm manic. Instead....I organize. I organize everything. I clean my house, my office, my car. I even reorganize filing systems I've already organized. When I come down from the manic high...I'm not quite sure how the system's like someone else was in my office.

Even in my childhood, I did this. I would put numbers on all my clothes hangers...and have an inventory of all my clothes and which hanger they are supposed to be on. I would schedule a month's worth of outfits that I planned to wear that month. Then I would put alternate choices if the weather was different than planned. The system only lasted a week. All the time and energy in creating a system that I never used.

I like numbers. I plan to be an accountant...just another way for me to organize things. This is not exciting, like becoming a broadway performer or famous artist. But that's all I do that I can enjoy. I guess that it isn't so are paid well.

I feel like I'm just rambling with no cause...I hope that someone somewhere could read this and understand. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who knows what it is like to be me. But that is what my counselor tells me...noone can really know how it feels to me. That sucks...

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