Planning for a mood swing is like trying to schedule a butterfly to land on your hand and stay there for a prescribed amount of time so you can take pictures of it.  The best you can do is find a place near where butterflies can be found, have a quick camera on hand, and then just gaze longingly at the beautiful flowers and plants around you while you wait for that moment.  A hypomanic episode is as fleeting as that moment the butterfly lands and holds still.  If you are prepared for it, the result is awesome. And, for me, those are the best.  I feel confident. I am productive. My house is gleaming, my homework is finished in a furious hour or two, and many areas of my life become efficient and organized.  For those moments in time, everything feels right and I am a happy person.  A depressive episode is that part where I am gazing at the foliage wishing for something that I *know* is never going to happen and questioning why I even try.  That butterfly is never going to land.  Everything around me dims and I just cannot find the will to care.  But I know I should be ready for anything so I go through the motions of life hoping the butterfly lands soon.  But I live most of my life in the grey area.

I know I want to be here, ready for the butterfly.  I know why I try so hard to hold onto my sanity, and occasionally I remember to enjoy the beauty of the foliage around for what it is, not expecting more or dreading less.  I truly believe living in the grey is the hardest part of life for me.  Somehow I have to put everything together and keep it there, ready to adjust for the dimness of depression or the flash of brilliance the hypomania gives me.  And there is always that fear that I will leap into the more psychotic mania that accomplishes nothing, or that the depression will never end the next time I dip.

I am in that depression right now.  And life is hard.  My money troubles are overwhelming.  I am afraid I won't kick the depression before school starts in two weeks. I am trying to pull myself out of this depression so I can handle my problems better than I have been.  It is beyond frustrating, infuriating, and humiliating to know that I actually have solutions to my problems, all I am missing is the execution.  I have sat down at my computer a dozen or more times with the intent to open my bank account information online and begin to organize my expenses to help me get that in control.   I have a number to a money management company which is highly recommended who can help me track and conquer my debt.  I have a husband who seems willing, even if a bit reluctant, to execute any plan I come up with.  But I cannot take that first step because it overwhelms.  I see the door to open, but in looking at it I am crushed by doubt, fear, humiliation and anger.   I cannot do it.

And that thought makes me feel like I have failed.  Maybe I don't deserve the butterfly and that is the cause of the elusiveness.  Maybe I scared it away with the worst parts of me.  Maybe the butterfly will never come back.  Suddenly the safety of depression is my only protection.  If I can lose myself in my sorrow, apathy, and pain then maybe I will never have to try so hard to catch the butterfly.

The struggle begins from there.  I know that line of thinking is wrong.  Hypomania is not some cherished reward, it is another state of being for me which can have positive affects on my life, but it also carries a cost.  I lose sleep, I have a callous attitude, life is almost as much about me when I am manic as it is when I am depressed.  I've already stated how much I hate self-centeredness. 

As these thoughts circle, I realize that this is why the grey area is so important.  I am less self-centered, but more centered.  I can both see the solutions to problems and execute them.  I can forgive my sloppy life without a need to wash it away, completely.  I can enjoy what I have, wish for more, and accept that more will only come in time and with work.  I don't feel like everything has to be done NOW and I can accept that.   It is hard living in the grey.  Forgiving the depressive habits, trying to emulate a fraction of the productivity of a manic episode.  And so I continue to work at being not depressed.  I can even fool myself long enough to put the computer in my lap and the notebook at my elbow.  Until I reach over to open the bank account info.

And then I dive back into my safe depression wondering why I would ever want to capture the elusive butterfly.