I want to apologize for dumping my worst problems on the reader yesterday… the truth is that I really do have Bipolar Schizophrenia and I really felt the worst I had for a long time. When I am “researching” for a product–right now I am reading War and Peace–I try to read 100 pages a day (50 pages in the morning and 50 pages at night), but today I could read only 9 pages and spent most of today asleep… this evening I will not read, but will fix Eggplant and Chickpea Stew. I know this sounds maudlin.
What is strange about Bipolar is that when a person at their lows they barely feel able to touch God… and yet in recovering, they feel the consolation of believing their kind Friend did not abandon them, as they were afraid. More, I shall talk to my rabbi tomorrow and–yes–my psychiatrist. Should I be writing this? I don’t know. Am I fortunate if nobody reads this, judging me harshly as somebody who is weak and cannot live with the pain any ordinary person might feel? I don’t know that, either.
The strange thing about Bipolar is that in its “ups” a person feels as though they are dancing on the moon, but when they are “down” they feel like–as I called it–they live in “the Despond of Despair.” Schizoaffective Disorder is the ability to hear voices of people who are not real–full blown Schizophrenia, which thankfully I haven’t got–is when a person sees things, not just hears them.
Anyway, I am feeling better. Yet I will not do any more reading until this weekend. I just can’t. I hope the reader will bear with me. I know everything will be okay.