I’m not going to lie and say that this process I’m going through has been entirely easy. There’s been one hell of a lot of hard work getting the traces of him out of here so that I could start building my nest. It’s been a little difficult for me to get used to being able to make my own decisions again. But I haven’t had a single doubt that I did, and am doing, the right thing.
I chose the day I did because I knew that he would have a long weekend to try to start finding a place to stay, get some things, arrange transportation. That same span of time allowed me and Mom to do the overhaul in my living space. And now I have my week off work to get my sleep schedule back under control.
The first night I have no clue how I slept, other than like shit. Since then I’ve been having my Fitbit track my sleep. The second and third nights weren’t great either, and I was starting to get worried. Too many nights with no sleep can spell utter disaster for someone with Bipolar. Lack of sleep isn’t always a symptom of mania, it can also be a trigger. And I fucking HATE being manic.
But, praise the Almighty Ceiling Cat, I slept for 7 hours and 20 minutes last night.
So I think I’m going to be really alright. I’m finishing one of the last little projects I wanted to get done this morning. Yesterday Mom and I took my nieces to a natural history museum and hung out with some dinosaur bones, which they thought was super cool. And today we’re doing crafts. So yeah, I’m doing better. Loads better. Thanks for all the support kids, y’all rock.