Feeling the Anxiety
Dear Daniel,
Aside from initial head butting over who should play me in Letters to Daniel casting has actually been going. I’m anxious to get the thing casted so we can move on to other matters. The past few days I’ve been feeling this pent up anxiety and irritation to get matters moving. I won’t our film to look great, be transcendentally acted, and edited and composed like no other film.
Call it Great Expectations: The Movie. This has been building for quite some time. So sometimes it rubs my bipolar the wrong way. Yes I great spurts of energy but it can make me clingy, edgy, single minded and dogmatic. Obsessive to the point of intrusive to other people.
Here’s the thing, I seem to be absolutely at its mercy, as much I want to change that facet of myself it seems beyond my grasp and out of reach. Yet that “I Will Find A Way Or I Will Make One” attitude has served me well professionally.
Personally it’s a more delicate balance. When your support network is small, such as mine is, (this is not mean I do not have friends or colleagues who mean the world to me) it’s just I don’t tend to show them the unpleasant face of Amy. My irritability and anger, fair or not is seen by just a few. That’s not to say I haven’t had my vulnerable moments on big stages, of the three years I’ve attended AOF, two of them of included full on anxiety attacks.
Even when I’m relatively stable with the bipolar symptoms the anxiety can be a deafening roar in my head. The worst part, the way anxiety creeps into my muscles and makes it impossible for me to relax.
I’ll give you an example of what Missy has had to deal with all morning. It’s quarter to one in the afternoon and I’ve already called her six times. Why? Anxiety was generated by an issue with my bank account. Which triggered the obsessive thoughts. Which generated more anxiety which led me to call Missy.
It’s her day off. Why couldn’t I just go wake my mother up. I love my mother but honestly I don’t trust her to the extent I trust. Sometimes I get paranoid, like now my judgment is clouded with these people don’t know how I struggle (my caregivers).
No one can really relate to you unless they’ve got bipolar disorder. I miss my group sometimes. They could see clearly when I could not. Caregivers struggle to. They field constant calls and angry outbursts.
Recently it’s been hard for me to relate to my caregivers. Fortunately I have a therapy appointment next Friday and a psychiatrist’s appointment Tuesday. And that’s probably a good thing.
Sincerely,
Amy McCorkle
Posted from my blog with SteemPress : http://g1nbc.net/healing-hands/feeling-the-anxiety/