Wasting away

Today is a hard day. Really other than two short periods, when I was on vacation in Vegas and right when my meds got upped in March, there have been many hard days. A lot of hards. So many that I cant even give you an estimate. When I got diagnosed I knew it would be hard, I knew that there wouldn't be any miracles and I would wake up one day suddenly a normal person. But I didnt think that every day would be a struggle. That each day I have to convince myself to get out of bed (not that I sleep very well in that bed anyways). That I have to convince myself eat, and drink, and try to be normal. Most days I go back to bed with the basics being done. I eat, I drink, I go to the bathroom, I get dressed. But thats about as much as I can say I do on a regular basis. I can go days without brushing my teeth because I dont think about it. Showering seems like a bother, why take of my pyjamas if I am just going to be putting them back on when I am done? I do the dishes, I pick up after the boys, I will put clothes in the washing machine and dryer. But I don't put those dishes away, the toys are just thrown into a corner, or bookshelf, or pushed off to the side, and I never fold the laundry. I'm always too tired to do anything else, too unmotivated to live like I should. I feel, most days, that I am failing at life. That one day I am going to regret this, but I can't seem to do anything about it. I can't get off my ass and be better. And I am sick of it. I feel like I fail at everything I try. That I cannot succeed at life, that I am meant to be mediocre and live with it. People think that they understand, but they dont. They say, I am here if you want to talk anytime. But they dont understand that talking doesnt help. All it does is make me feel worse, at the end of this blog post I will be done for the day, its that mentally taxing. My problems arent fixable by talking, its all chemical. Which is why I never talk about it. My sister in law gets it. She has bipolar too (although she has talked to me about going to see someone to talk, but I pushed it away in the corner with the toys) but even she has gotten better on medication. The same medication that I take, helps her, but at a lower dose. I am maxed out and its still not enough. My dr is looking into adding something to my medication now and part of me is hopeful. But a bigger part of me is terrified that its not going to work. That its going to be yet another failed medication. I mean, failing at life is what I am best at right?