When you live with a chronic mental illness you may experience periods of relapse. Side-note: Not everyone who lives with a mental illness relapses but for those of us who do, the desire to diagnose ourselves and, in connection, attempt to treat our symptoms is tempting. And it is exceptionally dangerous.

When I think of mental illness--my journey sprinting through life alongside it-- I think of the image below. The famous Two Masks. I painted a picture of it, framed it, and gave it to my mother a couple of years ago. The irony was not lost on her. It hangs in the hallway; laughing at me. The masks represent bipolar disorder to me. They represent emotion on a whole--the entire spectrum. Like many people living with chronic mental illness, it's hard to find the parts that define the middle; the sort of happy bits that made us smile but were fleeting.

Acting on impulse, mental illness or not, rarely turns out well. So, this is, unfortunately, a post about my situation, formed by acting on impulse. I focus on myself not out of some form of narcissism (I might enjoy writing this blog if that were the case) nor because I feel particularly obligated. I write about it because I have become a damn good example of acting on impulse when life gets dark. Right. Here we go.

Oh...This is hard. I don't think I have ever slept this much in a very long time. I can sleep 20 hours a day. I can drag my ass out of bed to complete important articles, walk the dog and feed the cats and...fall back into bed. And by accident! I just cannot stay awake. My bed and I have become best friends. The books on my night-table keep me company and I try to eat. My life, pretty good just a month ago, has bloody well crumbled and I cannot even find the pieces to put it back together.

When you were first diagnosed with a mental illness, you were probably pretty confused. Life became sort of foreign. Sometimes, the past felt like a preferable place to be, even if we were sick. After all, we didn't always know we were ill. But after we come to a place of acceptance, we learn a few things and one of them is understanding signs of a mental health relapse.

I hate to admit it, but when you live with a mental illness there are probably triggers to avoid--triggers that upset the stability we have fought so hard to find (Don't Wait: Prepare for Mental Health Triggers Beforehand). First, let's break it down a little bit.

Earlier this week, I write a post Mental Illness Recovery: Will I Stay Well? Following the post, I started thinking. I asked myself that very question: Will I stay well? The answer? No, not forever. Forever would be nice. I then wondered how I could become comfortable with this. Is that possible?

I try not to ask myself "Will I stay well?" too often. But it sort of lurks in the back of my psyche until, finally, I am confronted with it. That's part of living with a mental illness--whether it is chronic or in passing--and it's tough. Really tough. But what about before you were properly diagnosed?

I  have an appointment with My Psychiatrist today. In exactly six hours and forty minutes. Well, six hours and forty-two minutes to be exact. I know things like this. I have not seen her in a month. She was on vacation. She told me she would be riding camel's--I'm  serious--on her vacation.

That might seem like an oxymoron, and maybe it is, on some level. I'm going to use the example of depression because it is something everyone experiences. Whether you have a mental illness or not, depression is part of the human condition.