Writing has become difficult. Actually, everything has become difficult. My analytical brain has been overwhelmed by the minutiae of everyday life so I haven’t even been able to celebrate the few successes that I’ve had.
I started school again and have made it to week two. I have gained a leadership role in a Celebrate Recovery at my church. My role is to focus on and help others with mental illness. I am close to finishing a Step Study, a twelve step program designed to analyze behavior patterns and habits. I started it to address my issue with people. It has helped for the most part as not all of my people issues come from being bipolar. Which brings me to the thought parade currently residing in my head.
Am I doing enough or trying hard enough in school? Can I take on this leadership role despite my own mental illness? Have I taken this Step Study seriously enough? Why do I even have friends? Should I get another shrink? Does my belief in God suddenly reduce my IQ level? Do I have to deal with people today?
All of these thoughts make it hard to think at all. Not being able to write has caused anxiety to build up. I’m stuck in a boring parade with no way out.
Random Ideas of a Chaotic Mind 