Things have been rolling along in my life. I’ve had good days and lousy days, so that’s all normal. What I find gratifying in my recovery from bipolar disorder is that my bad days do not feel like the end of the world anymore. They used to feel like that some years ago.

These days, I just feel off when I feel low. I don’t know how to say it otherwise. In the past, I would feel horrible. I would barely be able to function.

Yesterday, I felt wonderful. It was Sunday, and I had a relaxing day. I read some. I listened to music. I wasted some time scrolling through the internet.

This morning, I feel off. I slept well, but I could have slept longer. Still, I’m awake and not really wanting to go back to bed. I feel vaguely dissatisfied with the fact I’m single. The result is that I’m thinking about my ex. Ugh. My thoughts haven’t dwelt on him in weeks. I only think about him when I feel off.

This too shall pass. It always does. I’ll feel fine soon. It may be just a few hours, or it might be tomorrow. I’m positive I’ll be fine soon.

I have hopes and dreams, and they are rolled up into expectations. I also live with a good amount of self-awareness, and when my hopes and dreams are disappointed, I blame myself. So this morning, I went out to get some exercise, and I could only think that nothing is going to work out the way I want, and it will all be my fault since I’m not perfect.

I am feeling very damaged.

Simultaneously, I know I’m fine. I’m absolutely fine.

I am a bundle of contradictory feelings, but I’m fine. I will be fine. I am fine.

I think I’ll just let life keep rolling.