I feel an episode coming on... I gotta go home. And now I'm mad at myself because I feel like a failure.

So long story short, in the past couple days, I've received a lot of calls/texts from my family and (real life) friends who are concerned about my well being. I had come up here for peace and quiet, in hopes that I could "figure it out on my own." I just started back on meds, so I thought I'd be fine. But the mental stress, combined with the actual stress of all these people paying attention to me for a change, is bringing on an... episode.

I don't want to say manic, it's not like some kind of emergency. Sorta hypomanic, but with overwhelming anxiety. So... mixed? I don't know. I just know it's really not comfortable.

And it gets worse when I think about how I feel like such a failure. This has happened so many times, and it always fails. And if that wasn't enough, I found out today my benefits will be temporarily slashed in October (random, I know.) So I'm using this as the only possible motivation for me to try and get a job. These deferment forms for college payments (NOT student loans, apparently summer classes have different kind of aid and I never paid for them?) are basically demanding I do it anyway.

Luckily I adjusted my private student loans to a super low rate, but the federal loans I haven't even addressed. Then there's unpaid psychiatrist bills and fuck knows what else. My primary care doc is awesome enough to prescribe meds, but I can't afford any other kind of mental health care that I need. It fucking sucks.

And my dad isn't helping. Every conversation we have is just "uh huh" "yeah" "okay"... I can tell he's not even listening. I know he's having a hard time. So I'm thinking I should rely on other family members for this stuff, but in the huge family I come from, I don't know who I can trust. Or who's even willing to help.

I guess what I hate is that this had to happen for people to start paying attention. My extended family is going above and beyond to help us sell the house, but nobody knows how to help me. And I feel like it's because they think I'm a lost cause. Or maybe they just don't "get" me. Most people don't.

(Interestingly, I just realized that most of them probably don't know I've been diagnosed with bipolar. They base all their information about me on what my dad tells them, and he doesn't believe it...)