So on monday I called up the surgery, my usual GP wasn’t in so I decided that I’d just go and see any doctor. During the consultation it was established that I have the classic symptoms of bipolar disorder; a shocking revelation for someone with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder.
I wanted medication, specifically I wanted ritalin because there is literature to support its use with bipolar disorder and it’ll help me concentrate and focus. Instead what happened is I got referred to my community mental health team. Personally I think that this is a bit OTT, but whatever. They called on Tuesday and basically gave me the choice of a talking therapy or an assessment with a psychiatrist, which could lead to a talking therapy. On advice I chose to go for the assessment. I have no idea when this will be. I think maybe that because it’s been so long since I was under medical supervision that they want to drag me in and see where I am. Where I am, all in all, is a pretty good place.
At the moment my only real symptoms are that I’m exhausted all the time, I’m a bit subdued and I don’t enjoy anything or am able to motivate myself to do anything. That said, I did have a real moment at work today where I almost broke down. I sat there with my head in my hands and just stared out of the window for a good ten minutes crushed by what I can only describe as a wave of hopelessness. I nearly cried. Then it passed and I cracked on.
Oh and at lunch today I decided to actually just sit in Starbucks and read. Usually I grab a sandwich and a coffee and head back to the office, but I felt the need to be out. I’m reading The Fall by Camus. Reading Camus is very much a depression thing I think. Reading serious fiction, as opposed to sci-fi is a depression thing actually: I think something about being depressed and introspective makes me want to read fiction as a way of exploring alternative perspectives on life. Or something.
Actually I’m getting quite………. Generally when I feel the need for a long suckle I think of S but increasingly I think of Dakota like that too.
The breast fetish thing is something I’m still not entirely comfortable with. It’s a side of me which I don’t always like. On one hand I’m a professional, confident, quite testosterone driven male but then this other side is border line babyish, if not actually babyish. C says that I’m like a six month old that hasn’t been properly weaned. It feels weak and vulnerable and I don’t like that.
God, I want to cuddle up to Dakota and suckle her nipples though. This is quite….. Most women I just want to fuck, even BM. BM has huge boobs but I’m sort of so so on the suckling thing with her. W I want to fuck, out and out fuck. Dakota though, it’s like a physical need, it’s like hunger combined with a deep emotional need, it’s beyond sexual, way beyond. It’s some kind of deep seated emotional need. Which is why I feel vulnerable about it.
Tired. More later.
What can I say? I have a touch of depression. I don’t enjoy life right now. I’m not even enjoying going out drinking and everything feels hopeless. I just want to sleep all of the time and I’ve spent basically as much time as I can in bed. Rationally I know that everything in my life is at least no worse than it has been recently so I try and constantly check my moods with a bit of rational thinking, but you feel how you feel at the end of the day.
Also I’ve started using the I-ching again. Yes, I know, divination is bullshit. At least I think I know. I find it remarkably accurate but then I suppose the entire point of it is that you can read into it whatever you like. It’s unrelentingly positive about Dakota and things that it says will end badly end badly and things that it says will end well end well. It’s a crutch at a difficult time. Then again if it’s random chance what is the statistical likelihood of a positive result every single time?
I just have this profound ennui. I’ve started reading fiction, which is semi-rare. I’m reading Tropic of Cancer and I suppose I just feel trapped and bored. I long for something a bit more bohemian in my life. I want to take Dakota to Paris, sit in a bar and listen to jazz and just talk and talk and talk. I feel the need to write too, but I’m not inspired so I don’t know what to write about.
Actually, I’m just restless.
So the date/coffee didn’t happen. I was so shocked that I went for curry with C which I had already lined up in preparation. D sent me a message a couple of days later apologising and asking for a “rain check” but I’m sort of feeling that I’m glad that we didn’t meet and if I’m really quite honest I’ve had my fill of noncommunicative women. She didn’t even read the message I sent in reply to that, which I read nothing into because my experience of women is that they’re just shit at reading their messages and even worse at responding. Even close female friends are like this.
I feel a certain ennui surrounding women. “Effort” and “disappointment” are two words I would strongly associate with them. I think that I have some kind of emotional fatigue when it comes to them. Hence things with BM drag on. It’s one thing to flirt with her week in, week out, it’s another to face the grinding effort without much hope of any positive return if I ask her out.
Also for the price of a date I can buy a really good bottle of whisky, like an 18 year Talisker which so far is more enjoyable than any date I’ve been on and has more complexity than any woman I’ve been on a date with. Dakota is the other end of the spectrum: entirely too complex although more responsive than usual.
In other news I started taking vitamin C tablets with zinc, again, and it’s having the same effect on me as it did last time. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that my testosterone levels have gone up; I’ve been feeling more……aggressive and definitely more sexual. I feel more like myself.
At work there is some interesting news. I’m not sure how much I’m actually allowed to talk about publicly except that I will say that cancelling things without the boss’s permission and then attempting to hide this fact from them is a really bad idea. This is an especially bad idea when a large number of people are coming in for a presentation, because no one told them it was cancelled, and the boss thinks that they now have to rush around doing the prep that should take a day in a couple of hours. Also throw in that the boss’s boss was in the office………
Needless to say that the guy that says to the boss, “This isn’t really a problem, I did all the prep anyway, so we’re all good to go” is a guy who is in the boss’s good books and the phrase, “recognition and commendation” is used of this guy. Go me.
I find it curious how much praise I get at work. “Professional” “on the ball” “hardworking” aren’t really terms I would automatically associate with myself but they’re terms which superiors use when talking to me and others about me so I accept them.
So I expect an interesting week ahead.
So I was walking home last Thursday and I got nabbed by a charity mugger. A small, female ball of energy who was entirely too engaging. Hugging ensued. Then yesterday I went into town and seconds after leaving the train station I hear my name screamed at me from out of the crowd and sure enough, it’s her.
Let’s call her D. D and I ended up chatting, so I asked her out for coffee, which is happening tomorrow.
I am feeling quite lonely though. I’m missing S and her affection and things with Dakota are not going at the pace I would like and blah blah blah. I want a cuddle. I actually want cuddles more than I want sex, albeit naked cuddles. There’s something about being snuggled up to S, with her legs wrapped around me, little kisses on my forehead, the warmth and softness of her skin on mine. The sense of peace and of being cared for.
The older I get the more I crave this feeling of being cared for, looked after, protected even. This is why I like strong women, I like women who can give me a sense of security which I know is the inverse of how things are meant to work, but whatever.
Wine and hypomania…..hmmm. We are here. We have set condition 1SQ for strategic missile launch and the use of nuclear weapons has been authorised.
Apparently I, of all people, am professional and hard working. Actually over the past couple of years I’ve surprised myself. Well, maybe not surprised myself. What is it when you realise that you could do what you always suspected and were told that you could? The past couple of months have been amazing.
S says that I play life in the same way that I play RTS games and now I’ve finished turtling and I’m starting the breakout and what comes next is the fast paced, aggressive assault. Feels like that some days. I’m growing, learning, pushing, always ready for the next challenge. My horizons are limitless, my self-belief is total, my energy boundless. I can be stalled but not stopped.