Structure

I’ve long imagined the joys of retirement; I’ve dreamt of sleeping late, lingering at coffee shops, and being outdoors when the sun shines. Reality proves, however, that I am not to be trusted with large amounts of unscheduled time. Research on bipolar disorder reveals that I am not alone. We’re known to fritter away valuable time lounging in bed, watching television, entranced by social media, or even staring into space.

Since returning to my home state two years ago, I have been rebuilding my life. I arrived with no job, no home of my own, little to no social network and before long, a spanking new diagnosis of bipolar disorder. Fortunately, I have a college education, parents who allowed me to live in their home, family in town, and health insurance – all of which cushioned my fall. Within days of leaving the hospital, I found a NAMI support group and instantly became a regular.

For most of the first year and a half, my time commitments were limited to endless job searching, medical and therapy appointments, occasional visits with a compassionate and patient friend from college, and periodically cheering on my nephew in his sporting events. Since I was restless and bored, I walked a lot; but without my usual passion, my pace was quite slow. Through it all, I've had NAMI.

At last, all that job searching paid off – first a four-month contract and now, thankfully, a rewarding temporary position that just this month turned permanent. The job is not just a paycheck; it’s 40 hours per week that I know where I’ll be, when I’ll be there, and what is expected of me. It’s not a social life, but there’s enough social interaction that I schedule lunchtime alone. A job also keeps me to a regular sleep schedule. My personality has returned.

Filling personal time to my satisfaction remains a work in progress. It took me two months to realize that a regular commute by bicycle is not going to happen. Living alone challenges me in cooking, cleaning, and managing paperwork. I now volunteer my time with NAMI but nothing else. Sometimes I overreact with regret and harsh self-talk. Eventually, I remember I am learning and mistakes are just part of the process. This makes room to shift my thinking. I’ve started evening and weekend walks, take some chores “on the road” (to a coffee shop, for instance), and search patiently for another volunteer gig that’s just the right fit.

I envy those who excel at time management and master ambiguity. As for me, I need structure and consistency – within reason. For instance, I’ve decided to commit to blog posts as time allows. Helpfully, that occupies slow times but without the pressure of deadlines. So I plod along at roughly one post per month.

Likewise, my workplace allows flexible scheduling. Most co-workers opt for 9-80, which means fitting 80 hours into 9 workdays followed by every-other-Friday off. Instead I choose to arrive late on Mondays, enjoy quiet and abbreviated Fridays, and fill in the difference mid-week.

To compare myself with others is dangerous territory. When I read this post, I feel embarrassed that someone of my age knows so little. Through hearing other stories and validation from both my therapist and a friend whose opinion I value highly, I feel pleased that I’ve come far in two years and keep making progress.