I’m Better Now

This Friday is when it started. I’m barley getting out of it but it’s lingering.

I don’t really know what happened. But it has the attention of almost everyone. All eyes are on me. Is he ok? What’s going on? He needs help. Everyone is worried about him.

I didn’t mean to worry anyone. Specially not my mom. I honestly don’t feel like I should have, or like I did. I binge watched Pretty Little liars all weekend with out getting out of bed. For anyone this is something normal. Something another millennial would do. But I have history.

My mom asked me if I was ok Saturday. I told her I was. But we both knew I wasn’t. I was tired. Tired of it all. Honestly, I just wanted to be alone. I just wanted to breathe, I wanted to get out of my head and float away into the fake lives of the characters on my screen. I wanted to forget about mine.

I didn’t go to church on Sunday, which only added fuel to the flames. My best friend texted me. Asked if I was ok. I didn’t text him back until today. One of the Elders called me, said he was worried and my mother had mentioned something to him. I didn’t reply or call back until today. Told him I was fine, he asked if there was something he could do to help. I didn’t text back.

I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m done. It happened. I was a little sad let’s move on, I’m better now. I’ll be fine, I’ll be ok. Just like the last time.

This Person I Am, Who Is That?

I am bipolar.

No, its not written on a paper, I was not tested, and I haven’t seen anyone that actually has a degree to be telling me this. But I know I am. Either that or something else (I know I’ve gone over this before, which only proves my point). All I know is that something is not working correctly up there, its always malfunctioning, always pulling me in the wrong direction, and it needs to stop. These highs and lows, these lies I tell people and myself. This person I am, who is that?

 

I feel like I’m trapped inside a bubble, but get this, every single time I’m bursting my way out, every single time I think I am finally free from it, every single time I do the impossible to make it out of it alive… I stop. I, turn around, and find refuge in it.

If that didn’t make sense (because I’m literally just spitting my thoughts on the keyboard with my fingers), picture this;

You are running in the woods, dark and damp. It has just rained, again. You run and run. You can’t even remember why you are running any more, so you stop. You breathe, the trees are nice. The birds are chirping, and you tell yourself, “you know, maybe I am over reacting. It’s not all bad.” That’s when you hear it. The loudest growl you have ever heard. Every time you hear it, it gets louder, and meaner. Your heart starts to pound and you feel the sweat on your forehead start to drip into your eyes making them sting and water. Before you take off running you look back and you see it. Huge, mean, big teeth, sharp claws, heavy feet crumbling everything that gets in its way. Branches cracking and logs being shoved, the birds burst into the clouds in the skies because even though they are high in the tress and out of reach from this thing, they still fear it. That’s when you remember what you were running away from.

You start to run again, and you finally escape, just like you always do. It’s a cycle that never stops. But then, this time you stop running. You stand your ground and come face to face with this creature. You look into its mesmerizing, beautiful, glowing eyes. You touch its softer than soft fur. You notice that those sharp teeth shine an ear to ear with a genuine smile. You feel the warm embrace of a nice hug and you feel like you are home again. The birds return with a lovely melody only they can sing,  and the rays of the sun kiss your skin welcoming you back to bliss. You are ok. Everything is fine. And then you feel the sharp pain on your arms reminding you why you were running once again, as It’s sharp claws come up to strike once again, you take off. And the cycle continues.

 

That is how I feel. I don’t know of any other way to describe it. I don’t even know if it made any sense. I don’t know what to do about it. And honestly, it is getting way to repetitive in my opinion.

 


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Study Myself

I’m trying to cope with my anxiety. I’ve been studying myself lately. Others would call it over thinking but that’s neither here nor there.

Any who, this morning I barley made it out of bed. I woke up, looked at my phone and slowly considered all the possibilities and outcomes of me not actually showing up to work. Some how they all waded up with the world collapsing or a total apocalyptic nightmare.

I know, a little too much. But hey, that’s me. I eventually got up and made it to work. I reminisced on my favorite moments form last year. Dang, I was crazy. How did I do those things? Social little butterfly I was. No, I was a monstrous huge mosquito. Then I looked at all the times I felt down or depressed. What led me there? What led me to be better? I know I’m not bipolar. At least I don’t think I am. I hope not.

But for sure I have some type of thing that’s wrong with me. Who knows. But I’ve noticed a certain pattern in the last couple of years. I go from being a little tiny ant hiding under rocks and blending in with the crowd. Then, suddenly, I’m the center of attention. I’m everywhere. In every post on every picture on all social media. Ok, maybe not like that but you get me?

So like I said I see a pattern, do I know what it means? Hell no. Just know that there’s one there. If I go back and check on my blog posts it’s also clearly there to see as well. So what’s next? Maybe I need to study myself more. Evaluate Me. See who I am. Even though I thought I really already knew myself I guess there’s more to me then I knew.

You

Why do you do that?

Why do you give yourself to people you know will end up hurting you in the end? Why do you instill all your trust in them as if they had a good reason to have it?

Why do you sit there and cry over things that maybe don’t have any meaning behind. You over think things and make them worse.

Then you come to find out it’s not even what you were thinking about. Why? Why do you do that?

Why do you hurt yourself? Is it for fun or to numb the feelings that you feel inside? Maybe it’s to just pass the time. Why do you hide that hurt like it’s something to be ashamed of?

You’re not ok, why do you bother? Get help. Wait, they don’t help. They’ve tried but it’s not enough. What is enough? Why do you make excuses? Just do it. It’s honestly really annoying. Time after time you always say you’re doing great then randomly say you have anxiety.

Attention is what you seek. Let’s be real. Everyone can see it. It’s written all over your face. You say all you want is love but what you seek is something else.

You need to stop expressing yourself like that. No one wants to hear it anyway. They’re just being nice.

Another relationship you burst into flames because your gasoline tears smothered the foundation of that relationship. I think your bipolar. You shouldn’t date, just stay alone. At least that way you can say it’s by choice and not that your exes say you’re hard to deal with.

But any who, who am I to advise. I’m the same way.

;

She was wearing all black sitting in an old 90’s Toyota with the windows rolled down on a hill looking towards the city she grew up in. She cried with pain for how her life turned out, not how she pictured it when she was young. The words her brother in law had spoken to her earlier, do us a favor and kill yourself, rang in her ears. They echoed but instead of loosing momentum the words only got louder, and they only dug deeper. She knew that everyone else knew she wasn’t ok. But they didn’t do anything to save her. So she sent her good bye text messages to the people she loved and she thought loved her as minutes later she ran a blade down her thin innocent wrists.


Coming home from a long day at work all she wanted to do was take some pain pills and go to sleep. Her diabetes was not doing well for the day and her feet were swollen. The new dog one of her daughters had just gotten her peed all over the place, but before she could scream at it she noticed her phone was full of missed calls. She called back one of her daughters, the one who had called her more than fifteen times. She lay in bed as her daughter explained how her husband got in a fight with her sister, or in her case her daughters, and he had said mean things to her knowing she was bipolar. Immediately she arose not worried about how tired she was. Not concerned about the piss all over the floor. She just got in her truck and searched for her daughter. This wasn’t the first time this daughter ran off this way. She worked along side her daughter at the same job every day, but today she didn’t see her. That should have warned her. Her daughter left the house as soon as she turned eighteen, she moved in with her older sister. An older sister that let her husband bad mouth her bipolar sister who had a history of depression. She searched everywhere and after hours of looking she almost lost it when she received a good bye message from the same daughter she’d been looking for.


Patrolling the streets isn’t an easy job. Specially at night. He gets an unusual call from dispatch saying there is a suicidal young adult near his location. He has nothing else to do so he checks it out. As soon as he gets there he calls for an ambulance back up. He runs to his patrol car and grabs his first aid kit which he would usually only use if he was wounded, but a life was at risk. The paramedics take over once they arrive. Soon she’s rushed to the hospital.


He’s been dating her for a while now. They met at work, the same place where her mother works yet she does not know they are dating. So arriving at the hospital were he was informed that his girlfriend was taken after an attempted suicide and seeing her mother there was extremely awkward. He knew her bipolar history but he never got to witness an episode while they dated. He was shocked and didn’t know what to do or say to console the mother right after finding out they were dating.


Now they all sat in the waiting room for hours. Waiting for her to wake up. But she didn’t. So they had nothing else to do but to go back to work awaiting a call that she had risen from the darkness she had fallen into. Their coworkers asked what was going on they seemed anxious and always kept checking their phones, but they only told the few they trusted.

I was one of them and this is their story.

If you know someone who is going through something similar to this, please don’t hesitate to help. I took this story very personal. I’ve been through this. I’ve seen the effect it does on a person. And all I wished for was help. A hug, or even a sincere conversation with someone to make me feel like I mattered.

If you’re the one going through this please remember that people love you but sometimes they don’t know how to show it or don’t even know how. You are important. You matter. And remember, one day that feeling will pass and you will feel so much better than you do now.