burn it all down already

i’m tired, boss.

i had a follow-up appointment with my psychiatrist a few days ago. it was one of those double-header days… therapist first, then psych right after. no breathing room in between. just… back to back with my own mind. i don’t even really know how to say it cleanly. i’m just… sad. but not only sad. it’s this strange combination of relief and something heavier. like finally having clarity, and at the exact same time feeling like that clarity came with a weight i didn’t ask for. on the podcast i mentioned we were exploring bipolar type II. and now it’s not a question anymore.

it’s official. i was diagnosed with bipolar type II.

even typing that out feels weird. heavy. there’s so much stigma around it that it immediately feels bigger than it actually is. and yeah… part of me knows that’s not true. but another part of me hears it and thinks, so this is it then. that sounds dramatic. i know it does. but it’s honest. i’ve always felt like there was something more going on beneath the depression, the anxiety, the adhd… something that didn’t quite fit neatly into any of those boxes. so in a way, this answers that. but answers don’t always feel like relief. sometimes they feel like confirmation of something you were quietly hoping wasn’t true. and i’m just… tired. not in a “i need a nap” kind of way. i’m tired of feeling everything so deeply, all the time. tired of constantly being aware, constantly processing, constantly holding space- for myself, for other people, for everything. i’m tired of being the one who understands. i’m tired of having empathy when i don’t even have the energy for my own feelings.

in my daydreams, i’m lighter.

someone else decides what’s for dinner.

someone else takes the lead.

someone else carries the weight for a second so i don’t have to think, plan, choose, feel.

for once, i don’t want to be the strong one. i don’t want to be the self-aware one. i don’t want to be the one who does the hard, right thing. i just want to cry… and not have to get up right after and keep going. i’m tired. and i know… everyone is going through something. i’m not special in that way. i’m not the only one carrying things. but that doesn’t make it feel lighter. it just means there are a lot of us out here quietly holding it together. i was talking to my niece the other day. she told me she had noticed i haven’t been as present lately. and i just told her the truth in the simplest way i could. “i’m just tired, babe.” we ended up talking about my mental health, and i told her about the diagnosis. and she said something that stuck with me. she said she doesn’t remember me being sad when she was growing up. that she remembers having a good childhood. that all she remembers is us having fun. no memories of me drowning. no memories of me struggling. just… good. and that hit me in a way i wasn’t expecting. because i remember what it felt like growing up around my mom when her mental health wasn’t okay. i remember the weight of that. and hearing my niece say she never felt that from me… it made me realize something. even when i felt like i was barely holding it together… i still gave her something safe. something light. something good.

so maybe… i did something right. and maybe this diagnosis doesn’t erase that. maybe it just gives a name to something i’ve been carrying for a long time. i don’t feel hopeful. i don’t feel inspired. i just feel… tired. but i’m still here. i’m still going to do the hard, right things. in fact, i’m going to put this away for now. lock in, get some school work done. walk the dog, then make some dinner.