There’s something to be said for making plans about nothing.
I mean, to do nothing major.
To spend time for the sake of spending time. Without agenda or outcome.
Is it weird to spend Friday night at home, making food for yourself and then eating it yourself?
No.
Do people try to call you out on it? Or poke fun at you for being antisocial or boring?
Yes.
And they can get fucked.
With bipolar, a nothing night is helpful. It gives me the chance to operate free of goals – to do things just for me.
The actions and the outcome are the same. There are no disappointments. No goals to reach. The pressure is off and I can see which parts of my feels are appropriate to my circumstances and which ones are coming from being hyper or down.
It’s like a mini diagnosis or therapy session for myself. But all it costs is a bowl of pasta and a Netflix subscription.