Author: Trevor Simonson

Good morning. Good afternoon. Good evening. Some days they are all the same. Infiltrated by the fog. That haze that sets life in slow motion, leaves your thoughts in a jumble, and gives you that familiar blank stare. Some days you just can’t function properly, no matter how hard you try.

 

I’ll start my day with coffee. Black and strong. Hoping to sweep away the cobwebs in my head. But when I turn on my computer to write, I am unable to focus on the task at hand. When I open a book to read, the words mean nothing. Just black markings on a page. Significant only because of the frustration I feel when I can’t put them together. Sometimes I give up, and I go back to sleep. Even the coffee, black and strong, is unable to keep me awake.

 

Some afternoons I take a walk, or take a spin on the exercise bike. I’ll have a snack, maybe some tea, or more coffee. All this to keep my energy up, and the daytime drowsiness at bay. What better way to be revitalized than a cardio session on the bike, or a walk through the neighborhood on a sunny afternoon. Surely this will be enough to put some pep in my step, and clear my head. Some days it does just that. But not all days, not when my brain is clouded over. On these days I might decide that the best course of action is a 5 hour nap.

 

The exercise is not reinvigorating. Neither is tea, or the coffee, black and strong. These are days where I am in the fog. My hygiene may suffer, and my stock of nutrition shakes are my lone source of calories. Because I couldn’t be bothered to wash or prepare food. Not on days where I am in the fog.

 

Don’t call me lazy. If I am struggling to get out of bed. Or when I am having an unproductive day. These are the days where I can’t think straight, or at all. The days where my energy tank is dry. And I hope that you can understand that some days are a struggle. Even if I appear listless and unmotivated, I am probably doing my best. My best looks different every day. I hope you can accept that.

 

I have to come to realize that I won’t be on top of things every single day. I have off days mentally. It is part of living with bipolar disorder. I try not to fight it, instead I acknowledge that some days I just won’t be at my best. And on those days I do what I can and do my best to believe that it is enough. It is a work in progress, but I am getting better at tolerating off days, and being patient with myself. Some days are covered in fog. Though they may be frustrating, these days are also a gift. Every day is an opportunity to learn and grow. Sometimes the tough days turn out to be the most rewarding.

 

Are you familiar with the fog? Are you in the fog? Be easy on yourself. Some days we wake up with scrambled brains or sluggish footsteps. Give each day a chance. That is all any of us can do.