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.

 


Watch my latest YouTube video


 

;

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.

Make It All Stop

Anxiety. I have a lot of it.

No, it’s not doctor diagnosed, but I know I do. Let me tell you why.

About a month ago I went to the doctor to ask about my increasing head aches. I wasn’t sleeping and wasn’t eating. It was around the time I came out to my best friend. I know that was mainly the problem. Also the working two jobs. Once that passed I was ok.

But even before then I have always known there has been something else. I’ve never really paid attention to it but now it has come to a point where I need it to stop.

I know I have anxiety. I do not know of what kind.

Let me explain.

I hate parties. I hate social interactions. I don’t like talking to knew people. I don’t like being the center of attention. Why? I have no clue, but when this things do happen when I can’t avoid them at all costs, I get hot, sweaty, red in the face like a tomato, I don’t know what to do with my hands, and my heart pumps so hard I can feel it through my fingers.

I over think. I know I’ve said this before and I’ll repeat it again because it’s true. The emphasis can not be placed on it enough.

I think about everything. What do they think of me? Are they whispering about me? Why are they laughing? Should I double check my zipper? Why haven’t they texted back? Do they find me boring? Who are they texting? Why do they avoid me? Why are they like that? Why am I like this? Why can’t I stop?

Every little word of anybody I will over analyze. I will take that thought with me, tuck it in bed, and sleep with it till the sun comes back up and then I’ll carry it around until it weighs me down.

I worry about every little thing, even after it as been assured to me that everything is ok. I’m so into my thoughts sometimes I’m not focused and make clueless mistakes.

I feel like I’m in a box. On the inside I see life pass by and I knock on the glass walls screaming for help, crying out waving my hands back and forth. But when people look over, all they see is an old moldy decaying cardboard box.

I know I need help. Tomorrow I’m going to call a counselor at my clonic to see if he can help me. I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of carrying what people say about me. So how do I make it all stop.