Writing to You From the Recliner Today


I’m peeling back the chronic illness curtain today. Pain and fatigue have me writing this post from the recliner, in the middle of a really tough episode. The last few days have brought an uninvited wave of physical pain and extreme, bone-crushing fatigue.

When you live with bipolar disorder, you spend so much time managing your brain chemistry that it can feel like a massive betrayal when your physical body suddenly goes offline. My mind wants to be productive. I want to be working on my book projects, crafting new mini courses, or out in the yard tending to the begonias and irises in the garden. But my body has commanded, “No. We are stopping right now.”

In the past, this kind of physical crash would have sent me into a mental tailspin. I would have laid on this recliner and let the frustration boil over into a depressive episode. I would have raged against the unfairness of it all, counting all the hours of productivity I was losing and calling myself a failure.

Then I learned that managing a chronic condition requires you to cultivate a very specific, very difficult superpower: Patience.

Recovery—whether it is recovering from a mood episode, a physical flare-up, or just the exhausting grind of daily life—is not a straight line. It is a wildly unpredictable journey. There is no fast-forward button. You can’t yell at a broken bone to heal faster, and you can’t bully your nervous system out of extreme fatigue.

Patience in recovery means accepting that today is a "recliner day." It means removing the heavy blanket of guilt your mind may try to throw on top of it.

When you fight your fatigue, you actually generate more stress. You tense your muscles, spike your cortisol, and drain whatever tiny amount of battery power you have left.

When you practice patience, you surrender to the process. You accept that the pain (mental and/or physical) is here right now, but you know it won’t be here forever.

This week in the Positivity Club, we are going to look closely at the journey of recovery. We will talk about the frustration of waiting, the trap of comparing our progress to others, and the quiet beauty of small steps.

For today, if you are also dealing with low energy or physical aches, I want you to join me in calling a truce with your body. Grab a cold drink, put on a comfortable hoodie, and let the to-do list wait. The grass and garden will still be there tomorrow. Today, the most productive thing we can do is rest.

Before I close today, Reader, I want to say thank you for responding to last week’s poll. I didn’t know how many of you rely on the daily posts, so they will continue. Since many of you listed the weekly update as your favorite part, I’m going to include more of my experiences in the daily posts. None of us are alone, and I hope my newsletters remind you of that every day.

Journal Prompt

When your body forces you to stop and rest, what is the very first thought that pops into your head? Is it a thought of self-compassion, or a thought of guilt?

Until next time, keep fighting.

Scott Ninneman

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Additional Reading:

Speaking Bipolar's All Things Bipolar

Hi! I'm Scott. I've been fighting this battle for nearly three decades. I know you can live a full, happy life with mental illness, and I want to help you get there. Each Sunday newsletter includes tips for living your best life while teaching the truth about bipolar disorder. Join our family of 750+ members today!

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