Here this is a great BIG FUCK YOU! A FUCK ME and a fuck everything. Fuck Bipolar, fuck me, fuck me... judge mother fuckers and let you be judged three times over. I hate all you mother fuckers who think you are better than others. So fucking superior! Fuck you ass holes who think you can look down on others after they have been fucked in ass. Yep, all you religious mother fuckers who use Jesus as your reason for making excuses, well fuck you and your religious antics too! Fuck you all. I mean fuck everyone at this point. Fuck you for joining my blog and fuck you to ALL those who don't take the time to understand those they say they are close to. If I were to die I bet there would be some ass holes that were to sit there and say how close they were to me and how they always talked to me. Don't think that will be the same for you? Well fuck you! there are always cheap shot mother fuckers who say they were there but they didn't know shit! I have been to many funerals and heard of many people who act like they were so close to the dead body and freed soul! Everyone has a time and you know what I discovered? "It's not death we humans fear, it's living through life in pain that scares us the most!"
Fuck you!!!!!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
I Am Physically Falling Apart and My Mind is...
March 5, 2011
I went to the psychiatrist and found out that my medications were at the doses massively over what I am supposed to be taking. “The doses you’re on are actually meant for someone who is about 400lbs. and you’re very small and nowhere near that size”, said my psychiatrist. I was shocked; no wonder why I am falling apart. I also seen my physician (Physicians Assistant) and I was sent to get a wellness blood work-up. After receiving the results I found out that my red blood counts are very low. I researched my past blood test and the results are consistent with the abnormal results. There is something extremely wrong and I cannot pin point any of these issues. It has been difficult to find a doctor that is willing to research my issues and deficiencies, I am falling apart and I am going on the second UTI in the last 6 weeks. I used to have UTIs very often months after I had my daughter. I am wondering what the hell is going on with me. Is my body triggering my Bipolar/depression or is my Bipolar/depression triggering my body malfunctioning. I am so confused. I am hitting hard emotional times and weaning down my medications are messing with not only my body but my mind, emotions and spirit. How can I expect to make it through the anniversary of my horrific past if I can’t even live through this physical battle? Is there anyone out there? Does anyone know anything that will help me? Can I actually come out of this with a healthy body and at least a stable mental state? Someone help me please!!!
I went to the psychiatrist and found out that my medications were at the doses massively over what I am supposed to be taking. “The doses you’re on are actually meant for someone who is about 400lbs. and you’re very small and nowhere near that size”, said my psychiatrist. I was shocked; no wonder why I am falling apart. I also seen my physician (Physicians Assistant) and I was sent to get a wellness blood work-up. After receiving the results I found out that my red blood counts are very low. I researched my past blood test and the results are consistent with the abnormal results. There is something extremely wrong and I cannot pin point any of these issues. It has been difficult to find a doctor that is willing to research my issues and deficiencies, I am falling apart and I am going on the second UTI in the last 6 weeks. I used to have UTIs very often months after I had my daughter. I am wondering what the hell is going on with me. Is my body triggering my Bipolar/depression or is my Bipolar/depression triggering my body malfunctioning. I am so confused. I am hitting hard emotional times and weaning down my medications are messing with not only my body but my mind, emotions and spirit. How can I expect to make it through the anniversary of my horrific past if I can’t even live through this physical battle? Is there anyone out there? Does anyone know anything that will help me? Can I actually come out of this with a healthy body and at least a stable mental state? Someone help me please!!!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Thinkin of the Thoughts, I Thought When Suicide Was In My Mind
March 1, 2011
My heart feels a little heavy, trying to be positive and optimistic about life. I know there is so much I can accomplish. I am fearful of so many things but I am trying to let it go, not that it will mystically fly away, but I hope I can get through. I can see many amazing things in my life and I am trying to hold on tight. Not writing for a while has been something I now regret as I am relieving the pain I feel. How do you encourage yourself that you are an amazing person when you know what you have done and gone through? To be honest, I haven’t really been broken down except for recently, I was hit pretty good after hearing of the deadly experience of a young girl.
I was told that a girl in my parents’ church was comatose in the hospital, the girl attempted to commit suicide. A couple of days later the girl died, she succeeded at something I attempted several times, something I once longed for. I see this girl as being set free of her torment and pain. I am no Dr. Kevorkian, but knowing what it is like to want to die, to just want to relieve the pain that cuts so deep that the body becomes absolutely numb. Having so much pain and confusion built up inside that there seems to be no other way to live or thrive; the only relief is to die. Thinking of ending my life was something that at first seemed to be a fantasy, a love affair with an idea that would be planted in my mind and grow like cancer. I turned my pain over to whatever I could, I attempted to live through the thoughts and pain but there seemed to be no way out of the torture. Even the pure love of my kids was unable to strike the pain away. Torment and sure hate overwhelmed me and dropped me to the lowest I could be in my life. I was in limbo for a whole season, summer, the blistering heat was something I don’t even remember; but the pain of living vexed me.
Wanting to die, wanting to live and wondering who I was, threw me in a whirl-wind of life and death. Do you know what it is like to want to die? Do you ever remember a time that a gun looked so good? Did a rope, a pill or a razor call your name to soothe you? Did you ever feel so full of nothing that you just wanted to feel something? Are you even listening?
I have to listen to me, because from this day on I will have to relive the next few months preparing to live through the hate and death of my life. I will have to breathe and remember that the me I was… is not the me I can be. I don’t want to remember the desire I had for death…I want to continue to yearn for love, life and dreams come true.
My heart feels a little heavy, trying to be positive and optimistic about life. I know there is so much I can accomplish. I am fearful of so many things but I am trying to let it go, not that it will mystically fly away, but I hope I can get through. I can see many amazing things in my life and I am trying to hold on tight. Not writing for a while has been something I now regret as I am relieving the pain I feel. How do you encourage yourself that you are an amazing person when you know what you have done and gone through? To be honest, I haven’t really been broken down except for recently, I was hit pretty good after hearing of the deadly experience of a young girl.
I was told that a girl in my parents’ church was comatose in the hospital, the girl attempted to commit suicide. A couple of days later the girl died, she succeeded at something I attempted several times, something I once longed for. I see this girl as being set free of her torment and pain. I am no Dr. Kevorkian, but knowing what it is like to want to die, to just want to relieve the pain that cuts so deep that the body becomes absolutely numb. Having so much pain and confusion built up inside that there seems to be no other way to live or thrive; the only relief is to die. Thinking of ending my life was something that at first seemed to be a fantasy, a love affair with an idea that would be planted in my mind and grow like cancer. I turned my pain over to whatever I could, I attempted to live through the thoughts and pain but there seemed to be no way out of the torture. Even the pure love of my kids was unable to strike the pain away. Torment and sure hate overwhelmed me and dropped me to the lowest I could be in my life. I was in limbo for a whole season, summer, the blistering heat was something I don’t even remember; but the pain of living vexed me.
Wanting to die, wanting to live and wondering who I was, threw me in a whirl-wind of life and death. Do you know what it is like to want to die? Do you ever remember a time that a gun looked so good? Did a rope, a pill or a razor call your name to soothe you? Did you ever feel so full of nothing that you just wanted to feel something? Are you even listening?
I have to listen to me, because from this day on I will have to relive the next few months preparing to live through the hate and death of my life. I will have to breathe and remember that the me I was… is not the me I can be. I don’t want to remember the desire I had for death…I want to continue to yearn for love, life and dreams come true.
Peace of mind
Help me find
I’m no stranger to pain
I’ve had my share of crazy
I want peace I have so much I can gain
I have the desire to just peacefully be
I know it is truly obtainable
I know I will survive this life
I am learning to be mentally stable
I’m learning to flourish and thrive
I am not in need of my hateful thoughts, oh so unstable
I can’t see the light when my eyes are open
I can see light when my eyes are shut
That is when I dream and forget what it could have been
I can see the scars on my arms I once cut
I want peace from my insane pain
I want to relieve the feeling these scare represent
I want to look into my own eyes in the mirror and not fear
Sanity, peace, contentment
Love and capture the positive of all that is here
In the moment soaking in the positive things this moment has to offer
Peace I will obtain to my dying day
Peace I will have knowing my Nirvana is for sure
I will have a peace, I will obtain, I will live in, My peace will never fade but it will forever stay
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Psychcological Drugs V.S. Natural Remedies-Searching For My Rainbow
“Sanity is not a choice, you can’t just choose to get over it”
(Shutter Island, 2010).
I have been physically ill, no not from the stomach flu or the nasal flu but from the lovely reactions and side effects of the drugs I am currently taking. I am fighting back as much as I can, pumping myself full of all natural remedies. But, as I mentioned before, there is no straight diagnoses for those who suffer from psychological disorders, no, we are indeed test subjects (guinea pigs).Drugs are only approved by the FDA if the drug company can show the positive effects; there are few cases in which negative effects are presented to the FDA, nor does the FDA truly look into the harm that can be done.
You see, in order for a drug to receive its license it must prove that the drug is better than a placebo; which would be easy to do since placebos are a manipulation of one's mind to believe there is some type of healing effect. I am getting on board of an uncontrolled experiment, and so are many other who have to take meds to control psychological disorders. It is difficult to think about coming off of meds, because these drugs are not easy to mess with. If you just drop your meds you are absolutely guaranteed to have an episode that will ruin or take your life. Weaning off of a medication is difficult because you are taking something away from your body and brain. You can feel the reactions and you can feel so desperate to end them. How fun to experience the negative effects of anti-depressants, anxiety controllers and antipsychotics; whether you’re adjusting to them, currently taking them or weaning off of them, the effects suck.
I have an appointment with my psychiatrist tomorrow and I am going to request that we agree to wean me off of an unnecessary drug. I am going to fight for my body, mind and spirit. Natural remedies are what I am seeking.
I discovered from a documentary that two handfuls of raw cashews have the equivalent calming effect as one dose of Prozac. Of course Prozac didn't work for me, but it was the chemicals that fucked me up, not the "calming effect" that Prozac claims. I know a lot of people will doubt most of what I am saying, but if you’re fighting for your life wouldn’t you try everything you possibly could to stay alive? Well I am. I am reading a book I probably mentioned before, The Natural Medicine Guide to Bipolar Disorder. “Although antipsychotics are ostensibly given to control delusions or hallucinations they actually have no specific effects on either” 2003) the book also includes a statement made by Dr. Peter R. Breggin, M.D., and David Cohen, Ph.D. (authors of the book Your Drug May Be Your Problem) “All neuroleptics produce an enormous variety of potentially sever and disabling neurological impairments at extraordinarily high rates of occurrences; they are among the most toxic agents ever administered to people” (2003). This is not what I want to live with any longer; this is not what I want for my body. I want health and life for me and my husband, and my beautiful kiddos.
It’s raining outside and on the way to taking my kids to school, they were awing at a beautiful rainbow. They spoke about the possibility of treasure being at the end of the rainbow, I told the kids that you could never catch a rainbow.
Who was I to ruin my kid’s faith in life and the beauty of nature? I then excitingly told them that if they tried real hard they can catch their rainbow. I am on my journey to catch my rainbow, aren’t we all?
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Opening Up a Can of Fear- Journal Entries From the Start of Prozac...Until the End
February 9, 2011
I have been thinking a lot about a lot of things, like keeping my experiences in order of the timeline that everything happened to me in the past. However, the way it all plays out becomes way to difficult and scripted. Therefore everything will spill out as it spills out.
In the beginning of everything I seen the psychotic words slipping out of my mind onto paper. I wrote several thoughts into my journal.
(Shivering to open up this journal, but as I look at the yellow hard book, I see the ware of it, I see the dirt it has been dragged through. Please understand that doing this is not a menial step in my opening up or facing my fear, this is a life changing step at this moment. Facing my fear at this moment… Holding on at this moment...)
5/10/10
It’s a mental battle that I never seem to win; it doesn’t matter what side I’m on or what side I think I am on, especially because I don’t know if I’m fighting myself or something else.
5/13/10
Not sure why I’m so depressed, confused and fucked-up. I had a good session with my doctor [psychologist], I “adopted” a new mantra which he prescribed to me “I am doing the best I can…Today!” Why can’t I even start to say or believe this? My poor kids are watching me go crazy in my own mind…
5/14/10
People think, believe or assume that one can switch depression on or off like some available light switch. Unfortunately, this is not so, otherwise, I would get my ass off the couch and flip that damn switch to happy, content or most desired in my mind, peace. In addition to the magic switch, people believe depression is controllable, some mind puppy I can feed treats to and make it do meaningless happy tricks.
5/15/10
I don’t recollect feeling sad, helpless or angry. I believe my day was calmer (mentally) than previous days. I’m not sure if it because Rick was home after a week of being gone or if my mental health is improving thanks to Prozac…”I am doing the best that I can…Today.”
5/19/10
I wonder if at some point everyone taking anti-depressants wants to stop taking them. I don’t have any devastating side effects that I feel or see, other than the drowsiness. But as far as wanting to kill myself…nope, no enhancement of that. I mean I still think what would happen if I consumed every drug in the house: Prozac, Ambien, Vicodin, Tylenol 3, Tylenol PM, the kids meds…just a hard cocktail. Sure it would be dangerous but I don’t want to die, I just want to experience. Probably not the healthiest experience to want to try.
5/23/10
Don’t know what to think, how to feel; I’m wondering if I’m getting better or losing. Losing to myself and losing myself as I am or as I was. I don’t want to lose my spunk, but I need to keep myself under-control. Is the medication working or is the newness and excitement wearing down; wearing sad…wearing ugly. I’m not sure yet. This is week three, last Thursday [of taking Prozac] and I’m anxious-scared for week four of Prozac!
6/1/10
I feel anxious in the way of wanting to end my life. I try to talk myself into realizing why I shouldn’t hang myself by the beam in [my brother’s] room, even the beam in the living room. The beam is so high and heavy, so obvious and bold looking. I would get myself up there and just hang there until the areal view of the living room starts to go dark and I’m no longer here. But then I realize that my kids may have to live [with] what I’ve done or worse…see what I’ve done…
6/6/10
Don’t want to but I need to, I want to fucking jump out the window, I want to fucking DIE. It’s 2:21 am, I wanted to drink my wine, get merrily advantage of by “friends”. I smoked weed so it would help me sleep but without Ambien I feel like a suicidal Insomniac. I mean I am practically writing in the dark right now, I have little light, but enjoy light to shadow my hand as it dances psychotically across the page. Fuck this I want my Ambien.”
6/7/10
What the hell am I thinking anymore? I guess yesterday’s Ambien binge and tequila shots weren’t productive for me. Suicide looks beautiful. My mothering skills are depleting, my financial management is so screwed u, and I feel like I am so fucked! So Fucked up I can’t take this, I don’t know if I am even trying or if I am depending on Prozac to get me through; which I’ve noticed little difference. My whole life is inside-out and vomiting shit [verbally and mentally] everywhere. Suicide looks Beautiful!
These are the entries up to my first suicide attempt; obviously Prozac wasn’t working for me.
I have to stop thinking about what I am going to write and just write what I think.
I have been thinking a lot about a lot of things, like keeping my experiences in order of the timeline that everything happened to me in the past. However, the way it all plays out becomes way to difficult and scripted. Therefore everything will spill out as it spills out.
In the beginning of everything I seen the psychotic words slipping out of my mind onto paper. I wrote several thoughts into my journal.
(Shivering to open up this journal, but as I look at the yellow hard book, I see the ware of it, I see the dirt it has been dragged through. Please understand that doing this is not a menial step in my opening up or facing my fear, this is a life changing step at this moment. Facing my fear at this moment… Holding on at this moment...)
5/10/10
It’s a mental battle that I never seem to win; it doesn’t matter what side I’m on or what side I think I am on, especially because I don’t know if I’m fighting myself or something else.
5/13/10
Not sure why I’m so depressed, confused and fucked-up. I had a good session with my doctor [psychologist], I “adopted” a new mantra which he prescribed to me “I am doing the best I can…Today!” Why can’t I even start to say or believe this? My poor kids are watching me go crazy in my own mind…
5/14/10
People think, believe or assume that one can switch depression on or off like some available light switch. Unfortunately, this is not so, otherwise, I would get my ass off the couch and flip that damn switch to happy, content or most desired in my mind, peace. In addition to the magic switch, people believe depression is controllable, some mind puppy I can feed treats to and make it do meaningless happy tricks.
5/15/10
I don’t recollect feeling sad, helpless or angry. I believe my day was calmer (mentally) than previous days. I’m not sure if it because Rick was home after a week of being gone or if my mental health is improving thanks to Prozac…”I am doing the best that I can…Today.”
5/19/10
I wonder if at some point everyone taking anti-depressants wants to stop taking them. I don’t have any devastating side effects that I feel or see, other than the drowsiness. But as far as wanting to kill myself…nope, no enhancement of that. I mean I still think what would happen if I consumed every drug in the house: Prozac, Ambien, Vicodin, Tylenol 3, Tylenol PM, the kids meds…just a hard cocktail. Sure it would be dangerous but I don’t want to die, I just want to experience. Probably not the healthiest experience to want to try.
5/23/10
Don’t know what to think, how to feel; I’m wondering if I’m getting better or losing. Losing to myself and losing myself as I am or as I was. I don’t want to lose my spunk, but I need to keep myself under-control. Is the medication working or is the newness and excitement wearing down; wearing sad…wearing ugly. I’m not sure yet. This is week three, last Thursday [of taking Prozac] and I’m anxious-scared for week four of Prozac!
6/1/10
I feel anxious in the way of wanting to end my life. I try to talk myself into realizing why I shouldn’t hang myself by the beam in [my brother’s] room, even the beam in the living room. The beam is so high and heavy, so obvious and bold looking. I would get myself up there and just hang there until the areal view of the living room starts to go dark and I’m no longer here. But then I realize that my kids may have to live [with] what I’ve done or worse…see what I’ve done…
6/6/10
Don’t want to but I need to, I want to fucking jump out the window, I want to fucking DIE. It’s 2:21 am, I wanted to drink my wine, get merrily advantage of by “friends”. I smoked weed so it would help me sleep but without Ambien I feel like a suicidal Insomniac. I mean I am practically writing in the dark right now, I have little light, but enjoy light to shadow my hand as it dances psychotically across the page. Fuck this I want my Ambien.”
6/7/10
What the hell am I thinking anymore? I guess yesterday’s Ambien binge and tequila shots weren’t productive for me. Suicide looks beautiful. My mothering skills are depleting, my financial management is so screwed u, and I feel like I am so fucked! So Fucked up I can’t take this, I don’t know if I am even trying or if I am depending on Prozac to get me through; which I’ve noticed little difference. My whole life is inside-out and vomiting shit [verbally and mentally] everywhere. Suicide looks Beautiful!
These are the entries up to my first suicide attempt; obviously Prozac wasn’t working for me.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Read It Or Not Here I Write...Oh Yeah Before You Forget...I'M FREAKING BIPOLAR
I am alive today and that is what truly matters. I am here and I am surviving. I feel like and believe that there are many people out there who underestimate Bipolar and other psychological disorders and disease. Here are some real statistics to open eyes of the ignorant and the curious:
Marohn, S. (2003) The Natural Medicine Guide to Bipolar Disorder
Now all you nay-Sayers, skeptics, criticizers, unbelievers and non-supporters, what say ye now? Do you believe in the truth and the facts, I am speaking from the mind of a Bipolar person. I am not just writing about what I went through in my past almost eight months ago, I am writing from my experiences today and hopefully tomorrow. You see, when I first started this blog I was writing to let all of this pain out and hopefully touch the lives of those who suffer from Bipolar and the loved ones’ of a Bipolar sufferer. I recently began holding back a lot of things knowing that the contents of my life may include people who read this blog. Although I will not, I will definitely not use their names, but I will not hold back when it comes to writing the truth of my experiences. Like it or not, I will write with no limitations or hesitations… the way I intended this blog to be.
With all of that said I must look at how I can look back and see how my life slowly began to fall apart. I had no way of knowing that my compulsive, aggressive behavior was a manic outburst. I had no idea that crying for no reason and hiding my depression was a part of a Bipolar low. I wondered why I was so emotional at times; even my family would tell me I was emotional. I was up and I was down. I am up and I am down.
As a teenager I wanted to party and tear shit up, drink, smoke out, trip out and have as much sexual experiences as I could. I was with a boy when I was just fourteen, he was seventeen; to me he was a compulsive liar whom I didn’t trust. I guess I stuck with him because I was emotionally attached to him and being with him allowed me to have freedom from my house. Although we were together in an adult like relationship we were both very immature. There would be times that I would want to be with him all the time and I would hate him because I would always catch him in lies, I would cry at night and in the shower. Then there would be times where I would be completely out of control, we would party together with friends. I never set any sexual limitations with other guys while I was with him. I cheated on him about five times. Some affairs he didn’t know about, ever, which was exciting to me because there I was carrying on this secret sexual relationship and he had no idea. But I felt that his continual lies vindicated my actions. The other affairs…well he found out about because his big mouthed friends didn’t know how to keep their damn mouths shut. My sexual hunger came in waves and my brokenness seemed to have lasted a lifetime. I felt like there was never anyone who could understand my fucked up mind.
The life I lived at that time was an up and down experience in my life, my boyfriend was someone I could confide in but I couldn’t trust. Being with him at other times would give me such a high, due to all the crazy things we did. But then I would drop, fast. At one point I became friends with one of his best-friends, her and I were talking about fun girl stuff (our periods); I mentioned to her that I could never predicted when it would come because I had problems with all that inner lovely “stuff”. I then told her that I was late but I started having cramps the week before. All of a sudden my boyfriend asked me if I was pregnant, REALLY? It flooded the school so quickly that day, so quickly that my brothers found out and when I got home my mom and my sister talked to me about it. I felt betrayed, shamed and embarrassed…I fell to a low that was something like nothing. I would smoke out and slop down like a dead plant.
When the hell could I ever trust someone, someone who was honest with me, to my face? I wanted someone who would keep my secrets and help me through my issues, because Lord knows I had so many issues that I couldn’t handle them in my own head. I would call myself names because I was worthless to “friends” and distant from my family, so why not, why not look at myself in the mirror saying words of hate. Why not betray myself and look at me and my disgusting self, what the hell was wrong with me.
Even now there is no one other than my family (now) that I can call friends. (Well I can call at least one or two people friends.) Friends: 1. Somebody emotionally close: somebody who trusts and is fond of another (2011, Encarta Dictionary). But I must say that I do have an amazing cousin that I can count on, she is sweet and honest. She gives me hope and helps me to know that everything is going to be okay. I listen to her and she listens to me, I love being with her and she is another person I can joke with about my psychotic breakdown. She reminds me to keep it together and hold on tight to the ones who love me.
I gain hope and I am reminded that the straight razor that was once my best-friend isn’t there to make me feel good and release my pain. I think about her words, my family, my presence on earth, my body, my mind…then I see the blade isn’t so sweet. The gliding of the sharpness across my skin will no longer release my pain. I look upon the intricate-patterned scare lines mutilation of my skin-reminding me of only pain. The scars remind me of all the pain I tried to release; I wanted to release pain that I couldn’t feel mentally or emotionally so I wanted to feel pain physically. I can’t feel that way now…
References
AFSP (2011). American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Facts and Figures: National
Bipolar Symtoms (2011). Bipolar Symptoms.org. Basic: Am I Bipolar?
Marohn, S. (2003). The Natural Medicine Guide to Bipolar Disorder. What Is Bipolar and Who Suffers
From It ?; Facts About Bipolar Disorder. pp. (5) Hampton Roads Publishing Company Inc.
· Among people with bipolar disorder, the rate of alcoholism and drug abuse is three times that of the general population. [ For the reason of self medicating the disorder]
· As many as 1 in 5 people with bipolar will commit suicide
Marohn, S. (2003) The Natural Medicine Guide to Bipolar Disorder
· 2.6% million of the American population suffers from Bipolar
· Over 2/3s of people who are suffering from Bipolar has a family history of Bipolar disorder in their family.
· Bipolar is reported to be the sixth direct cause of disability in the entire world
· 1 in 5 people with Bipolar disorder will commit suicide
· Children with one or both parents who have Bipolar disorder will most likely inherit the disorder by a 15%-75% margin
· Approximately 3.4 adolescent and young children who suffer from depression will most likely experience an early onset of Bipolar disorder (Stats in the U.S. only)
· “Bipolar disorder treatment is not about curing the disease because there is no known cure for it” (2011, Bipolar Symptoms)
· It is estimated that every day in America 90 people commit suicide
· For every suicidal death there are 8-25 suicidal attempts
· Every 15 minutes someone dies from committing suicide in the U.S.
“More Americans suffer from depression than coronary heart disease (17 million), cancer (12 million) and HIV/AIDS (1 million)” (2011, AFSP).
With all of that said I must look at how I can look back and see how my life slowly began to fall apart. I had no way of knowing that my compulsive, aggressive behavior was a manic outburst. I had no idea that crying for no reason and hiding my depression was a part of a Bipolar low. I wondered why I was so emotional at times; even my family would tell me I was emotional. I was up and I was down. I am up and I am down.
As a teenager I wanted to party and tear shit up, drink, smoke out, trip out and have as much sexual experiences as I could. I was with a boy when I was just fourteen, he was seventeen; to me he was a compulsive liar whom I didn’t trust. I guess I stuck with him because I was emotionally attached to him and being with him allowed me to have freedom from my house. Although we were together in an adult like relationship we were both very immature. There would be times that I would want to be with him all the time and I would hate him because I would always catch him in lies, I would cry at night and in the shower. Then there would be times where I would be completely out of control, we would party together with friends. I never set any sexual limitations with other guys while I was with him. I cheated on him about five times. Some affairs he didn’t know about, ever, which was exciting to me because there I was carrying on this secret sexual relationship and he had no idea. But I felt that his continual lies vindicated my actions. The other affairs…well he found out about because his big mouthed friends didn’t know how to keep their damn mouths shut. My sexual hunger came in waves and my brokenness seemed to have lasted a lifetime. I felt like there was never anyone who could understand my fucked up mind.
The life I lived at that time was an up and down experience in my life, my boyfriend was someone I could confide in but I couldn’t trust. Being with him at other times would give me such a high, due to all the crazy things we did. But then I would drop, fast. At one point I became friends with one of his best-friends, her and I were talking about fun girl stuff (our periods); I mentioned to her that I could never predicted when it would come because I had problems with all that inner lovely “stuff”. I then told her that I was late but I started having cramps the week before. All of a sudden my boyfriend asked me if I was pregnant, REALLY? It flooded the school so quickly that day, so quickly that my brothers found out and when I got home my mom and my sister talked to me about it. I felt betrayed, shamed and embarrassed…I fell to a low that was something like nothing. I would smoke out and slop down like a dead plant.
When the hell could I ever trust someone, someone who was honest with me, to my face? I wanted someone who would keep my secrets and help me through my issues, because Lord knows I had so many issues that I couldn’t handle them in my own head. I would call myself names because I was worthless to “friends” and distant from my family, so why not, why not look at myself in the mirror saying words of hate. Why not betray myself and look at me and my disgusting self, what the hell was wrong with me.
Even now there is no one other than my family (now) that I can call friends. (Well I can call at least one or two people friends.) Friends: 1. Somebody emotionally close: somebody who trusts and is fond of another (2011, Encarta Dictionary). But I must say that I do have an amazing cousin that I can count on, she is sweet and honest. She gives me hope and helps me to know that everything is going to be okay. I listen to her and she listens to me, I love being with her and she is another person I can joke with about my psychotic breakdown. She reminds me to keep it together and hold on tight to the ones who love me.
I gain hope and I am reminded that the straight razor that was once my best-friend isn’t there to make me feel good and release my pain. I think about her words, my family, my presence on earth, my body, my mind…then I see the blade isn’t so sweet. The gliding of the sharpness across my skin will no longer release my pain. I look upon the intricate-patterned scare lines mutilation of my skin-reminding me of only pain. The scars remind me of all the pain I tried to release; I wanted to release pain that I couldn’t feel mentally or emotionally so I wanted to feel pain physically. I can’t feel that way now…
References
AFSP (2011). American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Facts and Figures: National
Statistics. http://www.afsp.org/
http://www.bipolarsymptoms.org/Basics/Am-I-Bipolar.html
From It ?; Facts About Bipolar Disorder. pp. (5) Hampton Roads Publishing Company Inc.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Crying, Slipping and Hoping Not to Fall Down (A Bipolar Low)
I was thinking about how difficult it was posting that last blog post… I previously stated that I am completely scared to write about the incidents that happened only seven months ago. You see, people in my life forget that everything is wiped away and put far in the past. But for me I still fear so many things, I fear seeing the house we lived in (where everything took place). I fear the streets I ran away on.
We were helping my sister move, driving down familiar streets that I remember running down in fear...I cried
Friday I discovered how shitty our health care is now! Our insurance sucks and the only insurance most doctors take without having to contact our insurance company before every appointment is Molina, a low income insurance. (I don't put down those who actually need it.) So did you catch that crap, a whole process just to see our doctors, but someone on government care can soak up the system. My husband works his ass off and pays taxes-every paycheck, our tax returns are low and we get more money taken out for medical care. So they’re telling me my husband has to work part time and sit on his ass the rest of the day in order for us to receive reasonable care. It’s shitty! I don’t understand it. I tried to make an appointment for my kids with their pediatrician, whom they’ve seen for all of their lives and I was denied because I had to get approved by my insurance company first...I cried.
I messed up on my son’s homework and his teacher sent it back with a big “incomplete” written across the top in red ink. I can’t believe my mind blanked out and my son paid for it...I cried.
Yesterday we were driving on the freeway and as I was talking to Rick I kept tripping over my tongue and murdering my words. I forget a lot of things now and I feel so stupid, I want to say something and I slur my words like I am drunk. I lose focus and I see nothing but pain and sadness, I wish I can speak clearly without feeling inadequate. Of course during and after feeling that way…I cried…
This is not a “pity me” emotional cry; this is me slowly slipping down into a place I don’t want to go. When I talk to Rick about wanting to hang on I cry because I fear what I will lose. I fear the time I will lose, the joy and laughter I will not recognize. I am fighting this and it's a battle I want to win so badly.
At this point I have to step back-from looking back and refocus on what I have now. Because If I cry I won’t laugh, if I don’t laugh, I feel guilty, and if I feel guilty, I blame myself. If I blame myself, I fall into an absolute low in which I will be unable to recover from easily. It isn’t easy, this isn’t easy. Do you get it? Is there anyone out there who actually knows what this feels like or even knows what I am talking about? I am so tired of not being able to live without reliving horrific memories. This isn’t a “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger!” type thing...this is "What almost killed me makes me broken". I cannot say that things are easy to forget, this is embedded in me for the rest of my life. I feel like crying at every moment that I let my guilt and blame take over my mind. The scars on my arms remind me of all the tormenting pain and all of the flashbacks.
I tried to “look on the bright side” and this time, to my surprise I was able to. I was able to look at beautiful moments. I was happy in a high but in a calming high, I seen my kiddos laugh and I soaked in their love. Rick and I enjoyed spending time with my sister and her husband. I always love our time together. She is opening up more to my sense of humor about my situation and she doesn’t give me hell for being on meds. We had a great time and lots of laughs.
When picking up my kids from my parent’s house after an all grandkids sleep over (my parents are awesome, 11 kids all at once…wooo) I was able to smile with my heart. Of course my type A mom was cleaning the house with bleach, typical for her on a Saturday, if she’s not out with my dad. My mom has always been on our backs about cleaning, doing chores around our house wasn’t just taking out the trash and washing dishes. Our chores were to strip everything out making sure everything was clean-spotless. We hated doing our chores and cleaning so much. But now if you look at our places and our possessions, you would see the results of her influence; everything is clean and lasts along time. My kids’, Rick’s and my clothes are so organized it's ridiculous, but everyone can find what they are looking for. I am proud to inherit that intense obsession of cleanliness, my mom taught me well and seeing her in operation makes me smile with glee.
I stepped outside to see my dad’s large garden, the soil turned and ready for planting. I asked him so many questions about how not to kill my garden. We stood and talked, I appreciated his love and knowledge of plants and life-growing from the earth...at that moment I knew that I can grow a garden without killing it. There was a moment in which my heart was overwhelmed with love. I was able to drive away in the car with such joy in my heart and love for my family; I was able to put my past experiences and my Bipolar away for enough time to embrace the moments of love.
The difficult thing for me at this point is making sure that I maintain my level of joy; I don’t want to be so high that I grow wildly out of control, nor do I want to disappear from my life and become someone who is buried into nothing. Last night I layed my head down on my pillow and I faced my sweet husband, he always stares at me like he is lost in my eyes. Facing one another I cried telling him how I didn’t want to go down, he told me it will be okay, everything is gonna be alright (quoting Bob Marley). I told him I wanted to hold on and I didn’t want to go down, I told him how I was slipping down already…and he said he notices my change. You see, he watches me transform into something I dread, hate, love, enjoy, loath and fear. He sees me begging a God that will hear my inner shouts. Rick sees me trying to stay in a medium state! He knows when I need him to bring me down and when he needs to pull me up.
I don’t want to write in a low, I don’t want to have to spill it all out… out loud…or on paper. I don’t want my kids to have to deal with this…they're the reason I am alive. I don’t want my kids to see me and Audrey having to take care of Noah telling him, “It’s okay, Mommy isn’t feeling good, she still loves us.”
I don’t want to go down.
We were helping my sister move, driving down familiar streets that I remember running down in fear...I cried
Friday I discovered how shitty our health care is now! Our insurance sucks and the only insurance most doctors take without having to contact our insurance company before every appointment is Molina, a low income insurance. (I don't put down those who actually need it.) So did you catch that crap, a whole process just to see our doctors, but someone on government care can soak up the system. My husband works his ass off and pays taxes-every paycheck, our tax returns are low and we get more money taken out for medical care. So they’re telling me my husband has to work part time and sit on his ass the rest of the day in order for us to receive reasonable care. It’s shitty! I don’t understand it. I tried to make an appointment for my kids with their pediatrician, whom they’ve seen for all of their lives and I was denied because I had to get approved by my insurance company first...I cried.
I messed up on my son’s homework and his teacher sent it back with a big “incomplete” written across the top in red ink. I can’t believe my mind blanked out and my son paid for it...I cried.
Yesterday we were driving on the freeway and as I was talking to Rick I kept tripping over my tongue and murdering my words. I forget a lot of things now and I feel so stupid, I want to say something and I slur my words like I am drunk. I lose focus and I see nothing but pain and sadness, I wish I can speak clearly without feeling inadequate. Of course during and after feeling that way…I cried…
This is not a “pity me” emotional cry; this is me slowly slipping down into a place I don’t want to go. When I talk to Rick about wanting to hang on I cry because I fear what I will lose. I fear the time I will lose, the joy and laughter I will not recognize. I am fighting this and it's a battle I want to win so badly.
At this point I have to step back-from looking back and refocus on what I have now. Because If I cry I won’t laugh, if I don’t laugh, I feel guilty, and if I feel guilty, I blame myself. If I blame myself, I fall into an absolute low in which I will be unable to recover from easily. It isn’t easy, this isn’t easy. Do you get it? Is there anyone out there who actually knows what this feels like or even knows what I am talking about? I am so tired of not being able to live without reliving horrific memories. This isn’t a “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger!” type thing...this is "What almost killed me makes me broken". I cannot say that things are easy to forget, this is embedded in me for the rest of my life. I feel like crying at every moment that I let my guilt and blame take over my mind. The scars on my arms remind me of all the tormenting pain and all of the flashbacks.
I tried to “look on the bright side” and this time, to my surprise I was able to. I was able to look at beautiful moments. I was happy in a high but in a calming high, I seen my kiddos laugh and I soaked in their love. Rick and I enjoyed spending time with my sister and her husband. I always love our time together. She is opening up more to my sense of humor about my situation and she doesn’t give me hell for being on meds. We had a great time and lots of laughs.
When picking up my kids from my parent’s house after an all grandkids sleep over (my parents are awesome, 11 kids all at once…wooo) I was able to smile with my heart. Of course my type A mom was cleaning the house with bleach, typical for her on a Saturday, if she’s not out with my dad. My mom has always been on our backs about cleaning, doing chores around our house wasn’t just taking out the trash and washing dishes. Our chores were to strip everything out making sure everything was clean-spotless. We hated doing our chores and cleaning so much. But now if you look at our places and our possessions, you would see the results of her influence; everything is clean and lasts along time. My kids’, Rick’s and my clothes are so organized it's ridiculous, but everyone can find what they are looking for. I am proud to inherit that intense obsession of cleanliness, my mom taught me well and seeing her in operation makes me smile with glee.
I stepped outside to see my dad’s large garden, the soil turned and ready for planting. I asked him so many questions about how not to kill my garden. We stood and talked, I appreciated his love and knowledge of plants and life-growing from the earth...at that moment I knew that I can grow a garden without killing it. There was a moment in which my heart was overwhelmed with love. I was able to drive away in the car with such joy in my heart and love for my family; I was able to put my past experiences and my Bipolar away for enough time to embrace the moments of love.
The difficult thing for me at this point is making sure that I maintain my level of joy; I don’t want to be so high that I grow wildly out of control, nor do I want to disappear from my life and become someone who is buried into nothing. Last night I layed my head down on my pillow and I faced my sweet husband, he always stares at me like he is lost in my eyes. Facing one another I cried telling him how I didn’t want to go down, he told me it will be okay, everything is gonna be alright (quoting Bob Marley). I told him I wanted to hold on and I didn’t want to go down, I told him how I was slipping down already…and he said he notices my change. You see, he watches me transform into something I dread, hate, love, enjoy, loath and fear. He sees me begging a God that will hear my inner shouts. Rick sees me trying to stay in a medium state! He knows when I need him to bring me down and when he needs to pull me up.
I don’t want to write in a low, I don’t want to have to spill it all out… out loud…or on paper. I don’t want my kids to have to deal with this…they're the reason I am alive. I don’t want my kids to see me and Audrey having to take care of Noah telling him, “It’s okay, Mommy isn’t feeling good, she still loves us.”
I don’t want to go down.
I am in a battle at this moment, a battle I fear, but fight.
I am in a time of limbo that keeps me in suspense…Oh dear God where is the light
Don’t want to fall when I think I am flying down
My happy smile hurts, even my grin is pain, and my angry smirk is easy, just like a "screw you" frown
Questioning the world around me and how confused I can be…becoming
Becoming someone I don’t even know
Will you know oh natives and sightseers?
And you companion, hold on to me as I slip out of my own hands
Grasping onto muddy roots of a pit unable to even stand
Am I heard, am I heard by my own ears-don’t you see the pain in my tears
Recognize my fears
Let me write with joy and sing with life in my mind
I want to love myself in every word I speak; I want to write to me…yes even if it is only me
So my question is:
Is it better to write about sad things when you’re happy and happy things when you’re sad?
Or
Is it better to write about sad things when you’re sad and happy things when you’re happy?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)