I feel worse. I'm sinking. Undertows are pulling me down. I think I'm doing an ok job outwardly at not seeming as bad as I feel. My kids and my DH are what is keeping me going. Large crowds of people are now making me have pretty bad anxiety attacks. The only thing that keeps me from having a case of the screaming me-me's is pain. I dig my nails into my hands, arm, whatever is available. I have a metal bookmark in my Bible that ironically says "Faith" that I use as well when we are out. That worries me, that pain is the only thing that I can turn to to keep me from bursting into hysterical tears. Each time I feel like I'm going to lose it, I dig in my nails a little more. My hands are sore, but I haven't broken down in public. Found out that drawing blood with your nails is no where near as easy as the books makes it sound, I've not drawn blood yet.

I actually thought at one point that I wanted to go inpatient. Anything, anything to help me not feel like this. Anything to get me away from this awful feeling. I told my husband that and he said that I'm no where near bad enough for them to do that. But I've not been able to tell him how I'm really feeling inside. I constantly feel like crying, constantly feel like going to the medicine cabinet and taking everything in it. Just going to sleep and not waking up. I feel so alone. But I can't do anything like that, no matter how much I want to. I have two wonderful children and wonderful husband, and I don't want them thinking that I didn't love them enough to simply continue to live. I know these feelings will pass, I just wish they would hurry up.

I constantly am on the verge of tears. I feel awful for feeling awful. My life has been good of late and is starting to get better. I have my dream job taking care of my kids. I have a part time job with great people taking care of kids in a Mother's Day Out Program, I'm starting school in a month to start toward a career that I've secretly wanted since I was younger - psychologist (I love to help people, and having bipolar I think will help me to relate to people). I have so many things to be grateful for, why do I feel so awful?

This is the worse I've felt in a long time, and I'm afraid to tell my husband, I don't want to add another worry about me to his load. He's got enough on his plate. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry, but I can't because I can't let anyone know that I'm this bad. I have too much to do.

So now I don't know what to do. What if I get so bad that I do try something? I've never inflicted pain on myself, no matter how bad an anxiety attack or whatever and that scares me. Should I say something? I don't want to worry anyone if a simple change of my meds or dosage will help me. And I've never wanted to be inpatient before, I've never been committed before. Each time that I've come to a point where I probably should have been, I've had people in my life that have helped me, taken care of things for me, and made sure I had time to recover on my own. I don't even know what it would be like. I can't afford to see my therapist on a reg basis, heck I can barely afford my meds. I'm lost and drowning, undertows pulling me away.