I couldn't write about shopping because I was afraid it would be seen as mania

After being told about the possibility of bipolar disorder at my last check-up, I became afraid to write about shopping.

Since then, the diagnosis has not been confirmed for the time being, and I have decided to continue treatment for depression.

Even so, once I had been told that, I began to doubt the act of "shopping" more than necessary.

Going to a vintage clothing store.
Buying clothes I liked.
Going a little further away.

If I wrote about things like that,

"Isn't that mania?"
"You're shopping again."
"Aren't you too energetic?"

I felt like people would think that.

So, I couldn't really write about it.

But in reality, I don't buy everything on impulse.

If I think I won't wear it, even if it's cheap, I don't buy it.
If the size doesn't fit, I give up.
If I have something similar, I put it back.
If I'm hesitant, I put it back on the shelf, thinking, "If it's still here next time I come."

For shampoo, too, I choose ones with discount stickers or ones that have become cheaper due to product replacement.

I used to get tissues and toilet paper through hometown tax donations.

I had my own standards for shopping.

On the other hand, I became unable to buy food.

I like to eat.
I don't dislike cooking either.

I think I'll cook, so I buy vegetables and meat.
But when my physical condition drops, I can't stand in the kitchen.

By the time I notice, it's spoiled.

Every time I threw it away, I felt terribly depressed.

It wasn't just about wasting food.

"I couldn't cook again."
"I'm a failure as a housewife."
"I'm a failure as a woman."

In that way, I was branding myself.

It's not like anyone explicitly said that to me.

Even so, I sometimes felt that the silence and the very air in the house were like words of blame.

That's why I became afraid to buy groceries.

If I buy them, I might let them spoil.
If I don't buy them, I have nothing to eat.

Even though I should have liked cooking, it had become like a test to measure my own worth before I knew it.

If I buy clothes, I suspect it might be mania.
If I buy groceries, I'm afraid I might waste them again.
When I buy daily necessities, I look for the cheapest ones possible.

Shopping is no longer just an act of choosing things.

Is it a symptom?
Is it wastefulness?
Is it something necessary for daily life?
Is it something that takes me out of the house just a little bit?

I started to think about each one as if I were interrogating myself.

Of course, I think it is necessary to look back on how I spend money with bipolar disorder.

But I don't want to make everything evidence of mania just by the fact that I went shopping.

There are days when choosing clothes is fun.
There are days when I think I got a good deal by buying daily necessities cheaply.
There are days when I can buy groceries to cook.

Before they are objects of caution as potential symptoms, they are also part of my life.

Knowing about an illness shouldn't mean constantly monitoring yourself.

While doing the necessary reflection,
I don't want to blame everything, even the things I like, on the illness.

My life is not made up only of illness.

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#Depression #MentalHealth #DailyLife #Living #LifeInMy40s
#TakeCareOfYourself #DontPushYourself
#WhenTired #MentalSpace #RecoveryTime #RestProperly #Hakodate #TimeAlone #TimeToOrganize
—
#CoinBridge
Verbalizing structures and connecting the field with systems

Currently, as I am recuperating, I am sharing what I feel daily while participating in local activities and volunteering within a reasonable range.

I am gradually putting into words the discomfort I feel in the field and the things that exist between the systems.

For those reading for the first time, please see here for my activities and CoinBridge.