Once all the craziness of the night is over, Bob and I get the kids to bed and retreat to our master bedroom—Bob to play computer games and me to read, think, and get ready for bed.

Sometimes we talk after the girls have gone to bed, but usually anything we had to say was said earlier in the day in our “check-in” calls.  Bob calls twice a day to check on me—once around ten in the morning, then again at two-thirty in the afternoon.  He makes these calls to assess my mood and see what I have been up to since he left for work. If there’s anything odd in my voice or a change in what I’ve managed to accomplish, he asks me if I’m all right.

Sometimes I haven’t accomplished much except checking email and writing in my journal—and other times I’ve gotten all the laundry done, run errands, and picked up all over the house as well.  Both scenarios can be cause for alarm.  But I don’t like to worry him, so most of the time the answer is yes, I’m all right. If something is wrong, I let him know so he’s not blindsided at any point before he comes in from a long day of working.

I used to hate the check-in calls because I felt like I was being monitored all the time.  Now it’s just become a habit and not nearly as intrusive.  He likes for me to call him if I need to leave the house on my days off just so he is sure that I am where I’m supposed to be.  But I rarely leave the house on my days off when I don’t have appointments because I need the downtime from the busyness and activity of the rest of the week.

Once I take a bath and get ready for bed, I go back to the medicine cabinet for my nighttime meds.  I take Zocor for high cholesterol and then Abilify, Tranzodone, Klonopin, and Buspar.

My nightly bath is important to me—I went through a phase for about two years where I was so depressed that I only bathed on weekends and had my hair washed when my hairdresser applied my color every six weeks. I couldn’t see the point to these activities, or much of anything else, for that matter.  So I am grateful for my nightly routine knowing that I am taking better care of myself now.

I go to bed at various times, usually right after my bath.  Sometimes I go to bed as early as eight-thirty if I’ve had a particularly difficult day.  It doesn’t seem to matter what time I go to bed—I’m still too sleepy to get up in the morning and function well.  But it means the day is over and I can escape bipolar disorder for a little while.


2 thoughts on “Nighttime

  1. I like the idea of check-in calls. Sounds sensible to me. Ever since I can remember, mornings have been hard for me. It makes no difference what time I went to bed, getting up in the morning was hard, and the drowsiness lingered for hours. I associate it now with the bipolar. Back when I was teaching, if I was up at 6 a.m., I still wasn’t alert until noon. That was 30 years ago and it’s never changed.


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