Alone in a world full of people

As of late I have been extremely manic depressive. It is taking a toll on me emotionally. It drains me. I lay in dark clouds all day that storm upon me in a way that it feels it will never stop. Although it really won't ever go away in a sense. I will always get episodes that drag me deep into the caves of sadness and anger. I have to be honest- while I am in this state I think about my ex husband. How good we were for the first year and a half. I wonder where that went and why it dissolved. Of course I have my notions of why it did and sometimes I dwell on that. I sometimes just have these memories of hint telling me he didn't like me anymore for no apparent reason, or him getting so angry at me, or him just not wanting me anymore. It still hurts. I think of how happy I was on our wedding day and how it means nothing anymore. I loved him and I meant every vow I made and now I feel more cynical about relationships because it doesn't matter how much you love someone or how hard you try to make things better, how many times you ask for more intimacy outside of the bedroom, or that you made vows of love and the other has felt that they only meant theirs when they liked me. I don't understand it. Maybe people will tell I just need to get over it but it's a loss. When someone is gone from your life either by dying or by leaving you grieve. When I am manic depressive the grief comes on strong. But not just because of what happened between me and him.

Sometimes the notion that I will never find someone who will love me whole heartedly, who will care about me and my feelings from the beginning of our relationship, who wants to be around me and finds me to be beautiful in all aspects, someone who will come running to my house when I am trapped inside my dark storm, and who will always appreciate the efforts I put into showing my care, my interest, my kindness for them. The notion that I won't ever find something like that at all devours my heart. I have always been someone who gives love to people. (NO that doesn't mean me showing I am in love with someone). More like I am open with my heart and my kindness. I love to give love to others. I love being in love when I am with someone who brings those feelings to me. I give love to my friends, my family, and even strangers who I show love to by helping when I don't have to. I have felt wonderful love in return. I have been in love a couple times and it is devastating when that love gets lost but I know the heart ache will eventually go away. I let myself give love, and love because it is a comfort that makes many people feel good. I don't need to meet a Mr. Perfect, nor do I need a relationship right now but I fear to a fiery extent that I may never find that person. I do not want to end up alone with no kids and no one loving me truly. I have no doubt my ex loved as truly as I loved him but it vanished. I can't tell you where it went or to whom it went but it was lost.

Mayhaps I will never find a person who cares as much as I do when I am into someone. Could be I never find someone who wants to love with open arms. The world is full of people; my world is full of family and friends that give love to me as well. Yet I feel I am alone in the world. It is hard to put that into perspective for those who don't feel as I do because of my illness. It is different from what the average person feels. Manic depression is nothing to play with. These times are deeply disturbing to me. I am extremely sensitive normally but in these episodes I am even more fragile. When I feel used, or as if someone isn't looking at me with sincere interest I am deeply disturbed and this brings me full circle to my landless in this world. Friends can make me feel this way as well because some people only care about themselves. They make a short attempt to ask you how you are doing and when you tell them I am just awful they shortly ask why yet then don't care to help me through but move on to their own simple issues or repetitive banter about whoa is me. Now when someone is having serious issues, they are severely depressed I do not bring up my small miniscule problems because I care about that person enough to listen, do my best to help, and show genuine concern for how that person is feeling. When a friends doesn't return that it is clear to me that I do not mean as much to them as them to me.

So even if I don't find a healthy relationship in the future I fear I won't always find the genuine friends when I need them most. I have been crying a lot, have been distraught, and have been restless because my mind won't stop but the only people to notice or care to find out how I am doing are my mom, sister, and my friend Chuck. My mom and sister talk to me everyday and I know my mom will do anything to bring me up even if it is just to leave me be while I dive into a book. Chuck texts me everyday with no avail because he knows that I not only have physical issues but mental ones too and he wants to make sure I don't get too far deep into the dark hole. I know if I needed him to comfort me he would come straight over. That's really meaningful to me. He has a wife and kids yet still cares enough to be that kind. I show these people the same respect and love because they mean so much to me. I appreciate them so dearly and what they do to help me. There are others who just seem not to really care. A person I care for does not show me the same kindness and it hurts. It hurts to know that there are only a couple people who are interested in truly knowing how I am and who are willing to come to my aid when I am really to dangerously close to the edge.  I keep my distance usually from those that do not have due interest in me and I do in them because I feel used, passively used.

I know my older sister has a lot on her plate but I know she would also come to my side if I needed her. I know that about a couple people. They wouldn't come to my aid and then start dribbling about some meager thing because they know that at that moment I need them to care, and they know in return I would do the same for them. I like when people show appreciation for kindness and love.

But even with those handful of people I still feel lost in this world, in this universe, in my own head. I feel so very much alone at times. It doesn't matter if my mom, aunt, sisters or whomever is there I fear my downfall episodes. I am nonexistent in this world filled with so many people. I am lost in a swarm of Americans who feel so entitled that they forget to help others or to not be so rude and unkindly. I live in a place where my mental illness is sometimes seen as fake, or a joke, or something one can just get over. I live in a place where I may never find someone who get's it, or wants to get it, or who is concerned enough to come comfort me. To others my mental illness and my physical ailments may be some kind of turn off but I believe that is unfair. I just wish that one day I can find something that is a beautiful relationship that blossoms like lilies in the sun. Where I feel safe and understood and cared for. Where there is appreciation, affection, want, desire, and a love for who I am and what I give to that person. I can no longer let myself deal with someone who neglects me on an emotional level, or on a physical level (not just sex but true intimacy shown through touch and closeness outside the bedroom). I am low on trust lately because I don't believe I can trust someone who could be something different under their shell. I don't know if this will eventually lift but I feel it now. I need someone willing to want me, willing to accept that I want to talk with them on a daily basis when I am interested and who return that feeling, someone that truly looks at me in a light where I am a gem to behold in more ways than outside beauty. I return this when I am interested.

However, this darkness looming above me, through me, has caught me in a struggle. I am lost and scarred. I am frightened by the prospect that no one will give me genuine care, kindness and love that will last beyond a few years. I have been burnt by cheaters who were apparently exclusive who said they loved me. I never want to feel that devastation again because here I sit crying just thinking about how badly the dagger in my back feels. How lonely it is to be lost in your mind wondering where things went wrong or if I have done something wrong. I have a nice life. I have a loving family, and loving friends. I do well at school, and have enjoyment from learning. I am not going hungry, and I have shelter, food, and water. I have help. I have free medical care and meds for my mental and physical ailments. But that doesn't stop my bipolar brain from sinking so low it reaches the center of the earth. I am so alone that sometimes I sleep on the couch to feel as if I have something comforting me because my bed feels so empty. Empty in a way like no one understands but the blame is more on me because I hide my sorrow, grief, anger, loneliness behind fake smiles. I lay all day on a couch reading. I have to thank the authors of my favorite books because they take me into another world. A world where my doom does not exist. My sorrow does not exist in the tales of old times. My manic, mania, manic depression is hidden behind words upon paper while my mind envisions a whole new world where while I create a bond with the characters my depression is not there to find. My world does not seem that wonderful at times because my brain is disposed to making me feel like I am but little to nothing. I wish it was easy to return from these gloomy places or to be able to say I am stronger than my mental illness but being bipolar I cannot always control these episodes. I haven't been sleeping much at night but during the day I feel my eyes growing heavy and my heart crying. I fell the lack of motivation for my life sometimes but I can at least overcome that and force myself to do what I need to do. I feel the sorrow that I have no one to come over and just hold me without any expectation for sex because they just want to make sure I am okay. I miss that. I miss knowing that I have someone to call upon to just come hold me tight without a need to say anything and who doesn't care if I just cry into their chest because I can't shake the dread that is my dark clouds. That is why I love to read. In those tales I can be the character who has that. I can forget for hours that I don't have that companion in my life. Of course my sisters or my mother or even my friend would hold me but it isn't quite the same because sometimes you just want to be held intimately or cuddled up with someone who feels deeply for you and your ache. I am alone in a world full of people. I do not exist beyond my small world to anyone. How could I. I don't know how many people walk by me and don't notice a tear washing down my face, or who don't even acknowledge I am alive. But not all people are like me. I look at the people around me, and when I see some stranger upset I ask how they are or why they are upset with sincere compassion not just to ask.

I don't need a relationship right now. I am not writing this for that purpose. I am writing this because my depression has made me feel that no one would want me because I am this. I am a bit broken, a bit out there, a nerdy mentally ill woman who desires compassion, passion, desire, love, respect, kindness, magnanimity and curiousness. Who will ever understand my curiously of death while not thinking of me as some poor depressed pathetic person. I am someone who is intelligent, creative, dutiful, kind, and so on. Yet I feel that my fake smiles will go on for eternity. I do not want anyone to feel pity for me. I do not want people thinking I am writing this because I feel badly for myself like the whoa is me person. I am writing this for me to even see what my mind and heart are feeling, and to hopefully find out or show someone else that maybe we aren't alone in a world of people.

Whose hand will grasp mine with care? Whose will hold me with genuine affection? Who will comfort me one day when I am low like this? These things I don't know and I am scarred I will never find out. Perhaps I should get used to holding myself tight, wrapped in books and blankets, contemplating why loneliness can hurt as much as a dagger in the back. I may need my fake smiles for eternity until I no longer need to wonder about death because it comes upon me when I am sleeping, or driving, or who knows what. I will not be scared of something I don't know... death... because my curiosity of it tells me it won't matter if there is nothing or something afterwards because either way it has to be better than falling into these episodes of the deepest hurt or the highest high that creates a crazy wild streak that I hate.


Sorry for the novel I am sure most people won't care enough to even read to this point which proves my loneliness in a world of people.


Lea

Terrifying Feelings of Surgery

In about six days and ten hours I will be getting a pretty serious surgery. This is the procedure that is documented to happen on my PT script: Scope/Labral Debridement/ Labral Repair/ Femoral Osteochondroplasty/ Psoas Lengthening/ Capsular Repair/ Capsular Plication / and Microfracture.

What this all means is I will have my labrum in my hip socket repaired and anchored. They will clear out all extra debris. They will suture the ligaments around my femoral neck, while also reshaping my femoral neck. Then Microfracture. This is pretty terrifying as this means they will drill lots of little whole into my bone so that stem cells will reproduce and grow new cartilage in my socket. Now this is kind of scary since I have heard it is quite painful to heal from. All this will be quite painful to heal from. My hip has been hurting me so badly this last year that I am actually excited for this surgery to occur because I can't take the pain anymore. It's awful. Not only was I left not being able to do all the things I wanted, I started having limited range of motion. No not because I didn't work out enough but because my femoral neck grew new bone and so when I try to raise my leg the next bone gets in my way. It's quite awful to be frank. I have been doing what I can to strengthen my leg more so the healing is easier on me. I will be wearing the bionic woman brace which will be so fun! Plus the rebound crutches.

With all the stress from the divorce and moving into my mom's again I started smoking a lot more. So I have actually been utilizing my E Cigs to help me cut down because no one, not even me, is smoking in the house after my surgery because it is such a big procedure that I don't want any chance of infection. Emotionally I have been up and down and I have finally become more stable. My anxiety is still on high alert but I think that for obvious reasons that is not surprising. It's difficult thinking about walking into a court house in 3 days and a wake up to get a divorce and then three days later will be in an operating room. I'm just grateful the divorce is before the surgery.

I believe I was so stressed inside my marriage that I lost some of my hair. I say this because it was noticeably thinner, my skin was duller, and I just was becoming more and more unhappy from lack of a lot of things. Now it's crazy my hair has actually become a bit thicker which was pointed out to me. My skin is finally looking better, and I have lost weight. Well that may be from the extra workouts and the couple attempts at riding before my surgery. I ride flatland and I just haven't been riding because the pain is a lot of times overwhelming so I decided forget it I might as well ride a few times before surgery because full recovery is six months. Then I will have three months of non stop physical therapy and who knows if it will go longer. That depends on my lovely hip which has dysplasia. Wish I had known that a year ago but I cannot say every radiologists does a great job.

My life is changing in crazy ways and sometimes it all makes sense. Even though some of it is bad it led to me realizing what I want and don't want. Plus I will finally get this hip taken care of and that's a blessing in itself. The pain physically from the hip and the back, and sciatica, mixed with bipolar emotions, anxiety, stress, and then of course the feeling of neglect do not mix well together. It's weird because at one point in my marriage my soon to be ex seemed to care that I was hurting and would help me, and then that stopped. I don't know that he lacked complete care but he even said "I'm going to stop coddling you" which I thought was strange. I don't think it is coddling when I am legitimately hurt and in pain and need help sometimes. Shit I almost fell flat on my face today when my lovely hip gave out on me. That was fun. I guess I don't get why people stop either believing your pain is legitimate or why they think it's good to let you just struggle to do stuff. I suppose it just got tiring for him but my family has not grown tired. My little sister is actually working all nights for a week so she can help me which is awfully nice of her. I have good friends that have been here for me through all the stress and bringing me back up, and I have my wonderful family. My days aren't sad anymore. It's a nice feeling. I don't feel like I have to walk on eggshells because I am a little crazy and some people just can't deal, even when they knew I am who I am.

I know I am all over the place with this blog post. I just guess I have a lot of different feelings at once I want to release. I don't understand the world sometimes but things start falling into place and then everything all the sudden makes sense. All I want is an apology. I know I can be a pain, I know I need to be medicated, I know I need a lot of help physically sometimes or I just get worn out from pain. I know those things about myself. But I also know that I still show care and I still show love, and kindness. I don't just leave that behind me. I don't just give up even if I really want to. I know I wasn't the only one unhappy. Maybe his unhappiness rubbed off on my unhappiness and then it fell apart. But to be quite frank I'm not even mad. I don't actually mind at all because that was not the type of relationship I want to be in or anyone should be in because all was lost. There was nothing. It was a separation within a household. Two people - one fighting for things to be OK because I'm just that way and the other well whatever. Now in a few days it will be over. That part of my life will be gone. It won't feel so weird anymore maybe because it will be legally done.

My life has changed dramatically in the last couple months. I have gone from extremely low, to the point where there were times I contemplated killing myself, to a state of shock, to a place where I felt safe and taken care of, and then finally stability. STABILITY. Something I haven't seen in a long time. I feel confident in myself once more. I feel happy to wake up and not feel pressure to be perfect or not be 'crazy' when all I ever was was me trying to feel happy, trying to feel better. I love waking up in a house where people don't give up on me and help me. Where people tell me they love me with sincere genuine love. Where I get hugged and complimented and told you're a good person, a kind person, a beautiful person. I get helped up again when I can't get up. I get help up stairs or down stairs and I get understanding when I need to be on a couch all day because my entire leg is on fire and my hip feels like it's crumbling beneath me. I haven't felt the way I feel now in a very very long time. I just haven't and there's no point in lying. I haven't been in my room crying for long periods of times or needing to take a shower so no one can hear me cry. No staring at myself and not recognizing myself anymore. I feel alive. I feel well. My issues will always be with me. ALWAYS because I have mental issues and physical issues but I am around people with a very deep understanding of that, of me, and what I go through. My mom said to me today that it doesn't matter if I need a painful procedure because I'm tough as hell. I walk around and get shit done even though I am always feeling pain. I may need a nap because it's exhausting but I get up and do what I need to do. Last year I worked on this hip, and stood for long hours on this back and some nights would leave in tears once I reached my car because the pain was horrible. But I had shit to do and bills to pay and I did what I had to do. I got through it. I get through it. So even if this surgery is painful, even if it does take me several months to have an almost normal hip, I am tough. My mom watches my struggle everyday and she told me today "you're tough as hell you can get through it no problem if you can get through everyday with that pain". That is encouragement at it's finest.

I just want to thank everyone who is there for me. Everyone who is helping me. Who is going to be helping me get through my surgery and recovery. I love all of you so very much. I couldn't be happier right now, and maybe some people think that's fucked up but it's not. He asked for a divorce and it turned my health and life around to a stable, happy, comfortable, encouraging, supportive and loving new leaf. So I will report back after surgery since I will have a lot of time on my hands.

Thanks for reading.

Lea

Divorce of a Bipolar Wife

All I ever did was try and give my love. If it was through encouragement, generosity, at least trying to understand, and giving my love. All I asked for in return was love, affection, understanding of my issues, and an appropriate amount of attention/intimacy. Did me and my husband fight? Of course we did. I feel that is part of the territory of giving a shit. Frankly, for two years we were perfectly good. We lived together alone while yes I did most if not all of the house work usually, and then took care of food and feeding the pets as well. I would get bad manic episodes especially when I was not on my meds but that is something I cannot help. I cannot help that sometimes I feel lost in this big bad world. Or that sometimes I feel in like I am in solitary confinement because those around me will never truly know what it is like to have bipolar. I accept my flaws and am quite up front about them. Here's a small list

1) I can be very high on life during mania and that means I am frisky, I spend money (but never to the point of not keeping enough to pay bills) and I am easily agitated but will calm down after a few moments alone.

2) When I am manic I can be a handful because I am extremely aggregated, and not doing something I find is important makes me very upset. During these times I cry quite a bit, or will be very quiet because I have nothing to say because I am in my own head.

3) I need attention. I don't ask for attention 24/7 but as a sensitive person I need attention from those I love. Perhaps this is not a flaw but some apparently think so. I liked to be hugged, kissed, cuddled, and caressed and I am very upfront about this.

4) When I get angry I don't get normal angry I get raging angry. Everything feels like it is on my shoulders, or I feel too alone, or I feel no one get's it. This is part of my illness that I cannot help.

5) I can become so depressed death is on my mind constantly . To date I have never tried to commit suicide but those thoughts have crossed my mind when I feel I am being attacked for being mentally ill. It makes me feel like I am nothing and like no one will ever understand or just don't want to. These moments are the hardest for me. Especially if they are a mixed episode. I am agitated, irrational, depressed, and I need attention. I just do. I need someone to just hug me and let me cry in their arms. That does the trick. If I am yelling and you yell back it will only make things worse. I you just hold me and tell me it's ok everything is ok, I love you I calm down. My mom used to do it and so did a couple of my ex's and it just did he trick.

These above things are part of me. I cannot in anyway control them on my own. I need medication to help me or I need someone who can be very understanding. If you cannot do that, if you do not take the time to look up and research what it really means to me bipolar then you shouldn't even bother with me because it clearly won't work. I am also a very generous person. I do everything I can for those I love and for strangers (I give to the homeless whenever I possibly can no matter how broke I am). I am very intelligent so I do not like to be treated like an idiot- that will really piss me off and you will get rage mode from me.

I have physical issues I cannot control. I have degenerative arthritis, arthropothy, a bulging disk, a pinched sciatic nerve, and a tear in my hip. This may mean I need help lifting things, walking at times, getting up (which can at time be very hard for me now). I need and cherish understanding. I know have illnesses is not sexy but I cannot help it. I don't need someone telling me to go workout, to tone up, or whatever. I will do what I please and would never let myself become a weak withering little lady. I am still strong but I just have issues.

My marriage to me was my life for the last year and a half. I never imagined that I would be getting a divorce so shortly after my marriage began. I meant my vows when I made them. I truly did. I did not ever intend to let things get in the way of my relationship. Sadly, the last several months have been awful for both sides I'm sure. The second we moved to his mom's we slept in separate rooms which was a red flag to me. I do not want to sleep without my significant other by my side. The difference between us was I don't care how small the bed is I want to be close to whomever I am with. If that is a flaw so be it. When we moved there it was like he reverted back to when he was younger and living there. We pretty much lived around each other. To be quite honest I did not want to move. I didn't. I love being around my family and I liked that we were around each other a lot more. Him sleeping in a separate room, a separate bed and us saying my room or your room was not okay with me. It made me feel alone. Very very alone. Yes of course I would snap and get angry because the second we moved there we lost all our intimacy all of our relationship had turned into something it hadn't been before. When you lose all intimacy then yes you do get very 'needy' because you are not getting what a normal person would find is an appropriate amount of attention.

I fought for it. I did. I wanted the love back, I wanted the attention and affection back. It was gone. It was lost somewhere. We didn't do anything for our anniversary, he last minute got me a card and rose for valentines and for my birthday I took myself to dinner. That didn't seem fair. So yes I was furious. I won't deny that. I feel I had every right to feel that way. I don't care about the gifts I care if you remember that I hate my birthday and so you make sure to distract me because it's what I would do for you. I would do anything for you if you needed it that is how love is for me. I will help you through horrible times and stick around to help even if your an ass because I can be that way too. I will do to you what I need for myself. But when you start pulling away there is not much a girl can do. Every attempt is turned down, every snuggle fest is forgotten. Cute texts are sent between each other and the second you get home there is nothing. None of those cute texts come true anymore. Kisses don't linger anymore no matter how much one wants it. Hugs become a rare occurrence. You get told "you broke them" like you are some sort of drill sergeant. You feel that the other cannot even get through his/her own thoughts of pride to see why you acted or reacted the way you did.

You see someone sitting there all day in fantasy land playing video games and you start to realize that that game gets more attention than you and what happens then? You get mad. You get hurt. You get upset. I played a lot of video games when we lost our first pregnancy but I was also very loving at the same time. However, when you come home to someone who doesn't barely talk to you because he/she is busy with a game, doesn't realize you are crying upstairs in your room for long periods of time you start to realize the other has no clue what they are doing to you. They cannot possibly realize why you are so upset and enraged. They call you the crazy one. You clean, you cook, you take care of business and there is a lack of appreciation. There is no way to get it in their heads that you are not being inappropriate with reactions, that you are being true to what the marriage you signed up for was. Then you realize that there is no caring left from the other side. He/she thinks you just are super different without realizing they changed and it simply made you upset.

The worst part is when you get so distraught from losing the relationship you had that you end up in a psychosis. You hear things, you see things. Things seem so manipulative. Your brain is no longer really yours. It has become its own entity and you are just a passenger in the your own body. Then when no understanding is to be seen you get told you are exaggerating your illness so you can act crazy. No. NO. I would love to not be feeling so crazy. I would love for someone to be there holding my hand throughout the ordeal not the controller. It is not fun to see yourself as someone else during a psychosis. The person in the mirror is not you. This doesn't always last a long time. Mine was maybe a couple weeks and then I got on meds asap. If your significant other goes through this it is because something in their life made them snap. You should look at your significant other, the relationship, and look inward to see if you had something to do wit hit. Pride is hard to get past but in a relationship you need to know that realizing you may have caused an issue or been neglectful then just realize it. It won't be a problem if you can realize it and work with your significant other to become stronger because of it. Do not just give them an ultimatum - deal with the game play or leave. That's not fair. I know marriages are never ever 50/50, sometimes you put more in than the other and sometimes they need to put more in than you but you never leave them hanging. You don't make them feel you are a chore. I listen. I care. I am kind. I am sick and I need affection. That's that and I have always been honest about it. I don't care what others think. People always take their families side or their friend's side and that's okay. I am grown up enough to know that. But during a time when you are going through a dissolution and being told you 'broke' them, when really neglect broke you is hard to deal with. How can you explain to someone that won't hear you that a psychosis comes due to strenuous difficulties that make you snap and that that cause is something that could have been fixed with affection. They don't get. They never probably will if they are too dense to get that you are the same you just had a bad episode. I didn't cause grey hairs all you had to do was love me. I didn't fight like crazy with him everyday. I was actually doing quite well the last few weeks now on my meds. It's funny because you get on your meds, you start stabilizing, and then all the sudden you are too much because you have proof of infidelity. It doesn't matter then though because that truth doesn't come out. A childish game of whose wrong and whose right happens. You cannot admit when you were bad and they can't either. Yet I can. I know I argued for the love I deserved. I know I was unhappy in that living situation because I was nowhere near my husband even when I sat right next to him. I know that bothered me beyond belief and I know I would yell when I would come to a snapping point. Sometimes others have a hard time seeing what they did, how they treated you, or how selfish they could be. I know that I asked for attention and it was not just because I wanted love it was because I wanted to feel cared for or feel like I meant something more than just 'this tucking crazy cunt". I am sorry if my arguments when shit was awful where 'crazy' but to me they weren't they felt appropriate. Maybe I flew off the handle because of my illness but that is only because when you mix a feeling of neglect with a feeling of manic you get the shit hitting the fan. But even when I apologize things need to start being worked on and if they are stagnant they go nowhere. It was stagnant. I did everything I could to get better and not fly off the handle- I got on my meds by my own free will, I started this very blog for therapeutic reasons, and I started drawing and writing to take my illness out on the paper. I gave understanding and even dealt with noting having much attention but that wasn't enough. Apparently being fine for weeks was not enough. Well so be it. I cried my tears. I have moved my stuff. I have yelled and I have talked and I have signed the papers. What can I say? When it is time to end a marriage you would have fought for under different circumstances, which you did fight for anyway, and when the other gives up when things get shaky the only answer is yes we can get a divorce.

Then you turn inward. You find yourself again. You find those friends who were the forbidden before who will help you. You remember what it is like to feel loved because you have friends and family surrounding you with care. You eventually will move past the pain, the hurt, and feeling of betrayal. You learn from your mistakes and may make new ones, but you keep going. He is not my life force. He hasn't been for a long time now as he hasn't been with me with me, just around me. I am not his life force. I don't think I ever really was. I knew what marriage was and I don't think he did. He is younger so that makes senses. The settings of our life changed and he reverted into some stranger. Funny he says he doesn't recognize me, but maybe that is because he has changed and the person he has become doesn't know me anymore only knows himself. That's okay. It's all okay. I can move on. I can now find someone who will take the time to understand what I go through, what I have went through, when I need support and will appreciate all my love, kindness, and generosity even if I am a little crazy. They will learn to just embrace that fact and love me for me. Won't blame me for them being overweight and stressed because really you cause yourself to be that way. No one makes you feel anything. You make yourself feel it. If you can't love who you are, you can't love someone else and that makes YOU feel something because of YOURSELF at that tine. He needs time to grow and mature. I need someone who is already there.

That is my peace. Thank you for reading my novel of a post.

Lea

The Untamed Brain

Where to begin this post. Geez my mind is everywhere this morning which I guess is a good thing to document because so many people don't get how our brains work compared to those so called 'normal' people. I have said that I would love to have a day to know what 'normal' feels like because I know my mind works much differently than most peoples'. Yet, I feel I cannot really say there is a 'normal' mind, maybe an average mind.

I have wanted to feel normal mentally and physically for years. I guess I do though right because I am used to the way that I feel. I am used to the pain, the agony, the ups and downs. I know many know about my physical ailments but I want to share them with those that don't know. I have degenerative arthritis in my lumbar spine, accompanied with arthropothy (or however that is spelt), a bulging disk, a nicely pinched sciatic nerve, muscle spasms that are so bad they give me what I call a 'neck boned', and lastly, I have an abnormality in my right hip bone and a focal tear (which thanks to Medicaid should be fixed soon). So pile all of that on top of mental illness and you have me- one bat shit crazy lady that is sometimes neutral, most times manic, and often depressed severely. My husband and a bunch of other folks believe that I need more exercise and I FULLY AGREE. However, I just did an hour workout-dancing like a mad woman around the house as I have heard it burns more calories than most dull workout videos I cannot stand. I took time to stretch everything out nicely, then I went and showered. Well you know how it is usually the next day you are sore well today for me it was right after the shower. I literally fell down a couple stairs as my right hip and leg gave out. FUN! I have also started walking and by the time I get back to the house that hip is on fire. It's very hard to get motivated to do workouts when it ends up in not just the normal workout pains but some heavy serious pain because of your broken-ness. This never helps my mental state. I usually become lethargic and sedentary which is horrible for me

I like dancing around when no one is home, I love taking walks, I love feeling fit when I am, but wow how easy it is to become unmotivated. Mental illness then takes it's toll. You may not want to eat at all or you may want to eat everything in site. I kind of slide between the two. So I lose some weight and am cool with that and then I gain several extra pounds back and I am kind of mortified. Now I am a pretty confident person for the most part. I know I am not ugly, and I am by no means fat at 5'6'' and 142 pounds but my mind does not like working with me. I am a woman who believes that media is fucking stupid and makes beautiful women and men feel inferior and fat and I firmly believe that there is beauty in all bodies. What I hate is that when you are bipolar you can become extremely self conscious and that can be a tricky and dangerous situation because you may end up starving yourself or vomiting up your food.

So here is a TRUTH story;
When I was younger between 18-21 I would buy ipecac and hide them in my room. I would usually skip dinner, and my lunch would be minimal. If I ate a lot of food, guess what I drank some ipecac and would throw it all up minutes later. I know most stick fingers down their thoughts but ipecac was an easier solution and this is at a time when you could just pick it up in the first aid aisle. I don't believe you can anymore. I would workout non-stop (hours a day at home or the gym and at lease 5 days a week not to mention I was in the Army for two years so I thoroughly enjoyed PT because that meant I would get thinner. I even got caught making myself throw up in the unit building by a sergeant but she let it go and didn't bring it up but made me promise to not do it there again. It was surely embarrassing. I made weight, I was always find but I would just get these bouts of feeling so disgusting that that's exactly what I would do. Eventually I realized that this kind of action is making me worse. It's causing me to be sick and I was at a point where bowel movements without all the fiber pills and laxatives was damn near impossible. That still haunts me to this day. Days on end where nothing moves through my body. Which also makes it look like I gained weight when I am really just carrying pounds of food in my stomach because my intestines aren't working right.

The point: don't ever let someone you love who is suffering from Bipolar ever feel like you think she/he is fat, or sagging, or whatever. Just Accept the beauty they have. Sometimes we may blow up for a bit because of our meds but that doesn't mean we are not still good looking or sexy. We may slim down so drastically it's amazingly shocking but that doesn't mean we need to be told nasty things about that either. Who cares as long as they are healthy, alive, and there.

I guess I am in the mood to discuss this because of how I have been feeling. When I am really down I usually daily find something to fixate on- be it weight, manic episodes and why they are what they are, books, so on. I had to put our 20 some year old Cockatiel down and it is devastating. It sucked because I thought he couldn't feel any pain or at least not much because he had paralysis in his feet. We all thought it. But we learned at the vet that he was feeling it all. Just because they had no function didn't mean they were pain free. The little guy was literally trying to chew his one toe off. I held him in the vet's office watching how happy he was to be held, off his feet and pet. He had a way of smiling and I cannot get that out of my head that last few moments with him where he seemed healthy and I just wanted to run away with him. But it hit me; When I get old, or I get very ill I do not want to be kept alive for longer than I have to be-I do not want to endure the pain of dying- I do not want to spend my last days sedated by drugs just to have a few more weeks that I won't even cognitively be there fore. I realized I cannot hold Michael all day long to help his pain. I cannot put him through the torture of being forced into taking meds that will pretty much sedate him just so he can live a few extra weeks, or more like days. His feathers were changing colors, he was starting to smell very poorly, and something was not okay. He most likely had a tumor on his spinal cord (hence him not being able to move his feet), and to get around the cage he had to drag himself across the bottom with his beak. Then he would manage to get up on the little platforms I made him so he could just sit without tipping over. I wish I had known he was in pain. I wish I could have fixed him but it was either do a bunch of test to tell us he was dying or let him go. So we let him go. He deserved peace for once. He deserved to now have to endure all that pain and all sadness I think he felt.

I'm depressed because of that while being maniacally depressed. It's not fun. It hurts. I wish it could all just go away and I could wake up and feel good. I felt okay this morning after I worked out. But then I felt miserable again. I think my doctor will have a field day with me on Friday. There are so many symptoms to Bipolar Disorder you could write a book describing each one. Racing thoughts, immense guilt, anxiety, appetite changes, increased or decreased energy, increased or decreased sexual behaviors that could be dangerous, Drug abuse, worthlessness, making awful decision, being suicidal or simply thinking about death too often, etc. These symptoms are no joke and I feel the longer they go unnoticed or denied the worse they get which is why I am desperately clinging to the hope that my doctor will listen when I say I need an increase in mg for my meds. Nothing is helping really or I am double dosing to take me down closer to the neutral line on the really bad days. That's not okay. And even though I feel that a mania state is about to happen that is not good either because I feel a crap ton of anxiety through mania. I am feeling empty, like a passenger in my own body. I don't think I am even keeping my thoughts straight enough to make the point clear. Or I try and say the why and deviate to some random thought. This is almost exhausting and what am I supposed to do? I just want to scream at the world. I want to fall down and cry almost every hour and I just want to feel okay. For my sake and my family's sake. I feel I am losing it slowly and the bipolar is progressively getting worse with my age. I wonder if anyone else feels that way. I am sure there is but I have to get off here because I will rant on all day and never finish the post. Thanks for reading feel free to comment or ask for support/advice.

Lea Silva

Brain is Dysfuntional with No Repreve

I went through a really rough week, well two weeks and it was terrifying, I was hearing things when no one said anything, and I was feeling absolutely crazy. I had a couple mental breakdowns and honestly if I hadn't had class to attend I would have forced myself to go into a psych ward so I didn't burden my family. It was insane how I was feeling.

I had a nice conversation with my husband one morning talking about how we should communicate better and came to an understanding about how to deal with each others' issues and make it less stressful. Well that feeling of calmness and security vanished within NO TIME. I went from accepting the nice conversation and the seeming breakthrough we had with each other to "he insulted me, he doesn't care, I feel manipulated, so on". Now honestly I don't think he really did any of those things but the manic side, the depressed side (and I mean severely depressed side) sulked all day. Ranting in my head stupid irrational things like the above statements. I just grew more and more furious. There was no real reason to feel the way I was because we had a nice decent conversation.

Well we can all guess what happened later that night. I was so passed I sat scrunched in a ball at the end of the couch unwilling to talk or be touched. (mind you I had told him I wanted more attention and here I sit unwilling to accept anything). Well as I always do when I am manic I had what I call bipolar turrets and while he was walking to bed said you don't even care about me. And an argument ensued. Now it is has be hard to understand from an outsider's perspective why this happens, and why a bipolar person turns something good into something negative. We have very little control over these situations. Like I said it's like being a passenger in your own brain. You cannot control the little demon inside you making everything turn into negativity. It was really awful.

My husband said he didn't really know how much he could take of this because the argument was so ridiculous. I obviously understand he was overwhelmed but him saying that made me go into a different kind of panic mode and a weird depressive hyper alert state (mind you I was on 500mg of Seroquel and still acting like this). From an outsider's perspective I am the crazy one who needs to 'control' the outbursts but it just doesn't work that way. I am mentally ill so there isn't much controlling. I can demand to myself to go for a walk, leave the room, go throw something to feel better, but this argument this one was bad. I literally believe I was in a psychosis. There was no control over this demon spawn inside me. One moment it would repent the next it would scream. What I need in those moments is kind of hard to understand. When I get that way the person on the receiving end needs to just accept it and say Okay. Try to help me calm down and feel comforted. I know this is a very hard task because I am being ridiculous and saying okay is giving into my irrational demands. However, this will move me past that stage and usually into one of guilt that leads to be coming back to reality and apologizing.

My mom used to have to put up with this when I was a teen. I would flip out over little things. I literally broke my wrist punching a wall over a stupid flat tire. I mean who does that? I would scream or get hostile or agitated and flip out in a nasty way. My mom would take so much  and then slap me in the face after I went too far. Usually this would snap me back to reality, sometimes it made it worse. But as I got older and my brain knew what that slap would do I would grab her wrists so she couldn't. I remember this one time, I didn't know my strength (which the mentally ill can become extremely strong when they become hostile, stronger than they normally are). I will never forget the face she made when I grabbed her wrists probably with a look in my face of some girl with a demon inside me. She looked at me terrified that I had actually done this and the amount of strength I used to hold her. She said the words "you're hurting me" with a tinge of sadness and with glossed eyes and I immediately realized what I was doing and let go. It sunk me into suck immense guilt that I felt enraged- I know that weird to think about but it happens.

I have been dealing with this from most of my life and I panic, I go a bit nuts, I become someone else, and I can become very vicious. All I want is for someone to say okay fine and hold me. My mom used to do that. I would be in a very hostile and volatile mood and she would put her arms around me and rock me. It would work. But a mom caring is different that for a husband who has only dealt with this for a few years. He doesn't know the tricks yet and he let's it burden him. I completely understand why and I know that it would be difficult to handle someone with a mental illness you never had to deal with before and this is someone who deeply loves you and is all the sudden acting like a different person. Comprehending what is actually happening in my brain is not easy. Sure you can read up on bipolar, what it does to people, how it affects their train of thoughts but you will never get how difficult it is for the person with the illness. Some people just say "you need to find a way to control it" and that's just not really an option. Sure we can control our next move- either freak the hell out or try and find a solitary room and go crazy by yourself, or throw things to get the anger out or whatever helps. However, that doesn't always register. Sometimes you are in such a fit of rage that you forget that you can leave the situation, you can stop talking/yelling/screaming and just walk to a place where you can do whatever it is you need to do to calm down. Write a nasty message on a piece of paper, beat up your pillows I don't know but something. I forget this a lot. I have a very difficult time controlling what my body should be doing when I am in that kind of stage in my illness. It makes me sick when people think it is just so easy to control it, or that there are easy exercises that make it seem 90% better or whatever. Even on the best medications you still go through episodes, just not as badly, but as a severely mentally ill person you can go into a psychosis and have no clue who you are and have zero control. You are paranoid, insecure, feeling manipulated, suffocated, like everything is against you. Yea you can go do something to be distracted but it just boils in your mind all damn day. Never easing up on you just becoming worse. At least for me. Then the blow up happens.

My husband feels he was on his last leg when this occurred. I panicked and laid I the fetal position praying this wasn't real. He came into the room laid next to me and held me and talked to me and guess what, the mood passed. It wasn't just a scare that he would leave me, it was him coming in, accepting things were not good, and still laying down and holding me. Now I do not want to make him feel burdened by it all. I don't. I don't want him feeling this will be the train wreck that will happen all the time. But he does need to understand it will happen here and there. My Brian works in mysterious ways. I need him to know that when I get like that he shouldn't let it weigh him down and that just accepting it and letting it pass and holding me, because at some point I will collapse from exhaustion, will save the situation. No I am not putting any blame on him I am just saying this so maybe other spouses can understand what it is like for us and how I think one could help the situation. There is really no wrong and right when being the one trying to deal with a mentally ill, as long as you are not abusing them, because we cannot accept you to understand the whole of the disorder like we do. But there are ways your bipolar lover can be tamed or calmed down. Brought back to reality. Because let's face it I go to a whole different world.

That's why I understand when I hear someone killed themselves because they could figure out what was real and what wasn't anymore. That's how I feel sometimes. For instance, did my husband really say this or did he really manipulate me- in one world, the one of the rational Lea, I say no of course not, but in the irrational world of my bipolar alter ego I say yes and start a war in my head. I actually had a war with myself about taking all the meds I had and laying myself down to sleep. Somehow I, the rational Lea, won that battle. It took days for me to realize that there is no point to kill myself because this will all pass, me and my husband can always work things out and the world is not really crumbling around me. But it was hard. It's hard for everyone who is bipolar. It's like no one gets it unless they are bipolar and yet, even then some bipolar people say stuff like those meds won't do nothing for you except make you a dull person, or it's bullshit to say you can't fight it. I feel like some of them are either in denial, or have a misdiagnosis because I have seen that many people are being diagnosed with bipolar just because of anger issues and I don't think that is right or good for the patient because they are being put on meds they don't need and that can harm them because they aren't bipolar.

My main point here (which I have to state because I have been rambling) it that the awareness needs to be spread on how to help your loved one cope with his/her illness without letting it weigh you down or make you feel that you have to give too much of yourself to the point of feeling exhausted. We all have something that brings us around to reality or grounds us and I don't know that we always communicate that to our lovers. So I want this blog to reach those that don't understand, or want to understand, or need to know how to cope with their bipolar spouse. Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment with any further advice or questions!

Lea Silva

It's a Mad World

Today I am not that okay. I am so not okay I deliberately threw a glass so that I could get some of my rage out. It was stupid of course but I could not keep it contained and I didn't feel like yelling. Normally I would have thrown something unbreakable but today I wanted to see something shatter. Maybe that says something about my subconscious feelings at the time. Maybe I feel shattered or felt shattered at that moment so I wanted to shatter something else. A weird kind of misery loves company song right.

Sometimes I just feel totally fine and the next thing I know I am in shambles or on the rocks looking down at the plummet, feeling angry, morose, dehumanized almost. It's a weird kind of feeling to feel dehumanized. Is it brain connections that do that sort of thing? Make you feel as if 'this cannot possibly be real, I am not real, nothing around me is connected anymore'. It feels terrifying to think that way and there is nothing I can do about it. I can pinch myself like in the olden movies where they say 'I had to pinch myself to make sure it was real' but it never does help. It's an uncared for feeling that plummets you down the depths of endless lost caves and frightening sounds of your life feeling like it is crumbling around you. Like you're in a movie and you're the only one who doesn't know it. How strange a concept that is and yet that is my perspective sometimes. If I died would I just wake up again in some other world I didn't realize I was actually in? That's how it feels.

Dehumanized- why would someone feel that way in their own human skin? I am not so positive of the answer on that one. Perhaps because I feel all the cares I have are nothing and it's not worth it to care for or because it seems no one else cares about them. Maybe it is my brain saying something to me I don't understand in Morse code and I just don't get it, and because of that I don't feel human I feel OTHER. I do. I don't know how to explain how one feels other in a way that isn't like 'the other race or gender or whatever'. It's an Other like a different human that's not human. I am loved by people but it surely feel like no love sometimes. And it isn't them it's me I know that.

It's just difficult to cope and comprehend when your brain is blending you a nice dish of 'you're fucked up' and there is no end in the foreseeable future that this cycle will ever end. Even on meds that tranquilize you, or are supposed to stabilize your moods you feel the cycling like your on some bicycle marathon for life. I am on 500mg of Seroquel and look how down and mad I am. Mad in the sense of the Mad Hatter. Nothing seems to be grounding me like I wish it would. Last night I was so panicked and angry and annoyed that I took 400mg of Seroquel at 8pm just so I wouldn't have to be awake for the rest of the night. Down fall- I woke up early and that means a longer day of dealing with myself, and others.

I don't know who I am today because at the moment I feel lost in the memoirs of my brain switching stories and memories quickly and yes there was a trigger. I would say a big trigger. But I am going to leave that alone because I don't want to touch that smoking gun. What more shall I do to coax my life in the right direction. Yesterday I couldn't muster up the energy, courage, or whatever to get me to get in the car and go to class. I couldn't. I wanted to be on this couch all day. The one remarkable thing is I had a talk with my mother-in-law and she decided a walk would be best and it did help for a bit but of course my brain said "um no that's not going to happen, you are not going to be any type of cheery, so fuck off'. And I did. I panicked and melted away and then tranquilized myself to sleep. I don't know if I ate anything yesterday but I don't feel any kind of hunger and I am sure it's because of the down turned mood of the week.

My one professor told me he completely understood as his wife has Bipolar. Funny I never know too much about professors, even the ones that I deem my favorite, and this man told me something very personal. It makes the professor more real right. You never really feel like there persons like you and me they are just teachers. And then it become a reality that while you have to do all this work for them that they have to grade all their classes work and deal with the same issues as you and it all the sudden sinks in that we all share a common thread.

Nonetheless the thread can be thicker on one end than on the other depending on the month, the day (if there is bad news that's even worse), even at an event. It all makes a difference in the mind of a mentally ill person. What am I doing? Where am I? Why? Why is a big one for me. I always ask why do I fall into traps, why do I seemingly have to deal with so many struggles (and yes I know there are other people dealing with much worse struggles but that shouldn't make you feel that yours aren't important), and why is it never ending? This world is filled with suffering and hurting, and lost minds, and loss of care, and loss of caring health facilities as the world turns to greed and the lowly are left behind. Our problem are turned to dust to so many and we are left trying to take care of ourselves when we can't even get it together to get in the car and drive without a panic attack.

Whose left us here? Why are there so many suffering people when we could easily care for them? An example I like to use is this; in America a lot of our agriculture is sent off for profit. We have so much agriculture that is 'extra' that we could give to the starving young and families here in the US. The US has a few billion dollar budget for military expenses and what-nots and if we just took even half a billion, even less, we could feed all those starving people here and in other places. It's kind of hard to believe that in a world were fake worth (money) runs the world people can't just come together for those who are starving, or sick, or severely mentally ill, or physically not well and take care of them pro bono. Is everyone that concerned about a green piece of paper? Obviously. I met a person once who thought is was dumb and obnoxious to think that the homeless and those struggling deserve help. Let me tell you we are not friends. But it goes to show that people are losing some compassion. I think they see the green in their accounts and think 'I am not giving any of this to anyone who is apparently struggling because if I earned so can they'. Um in Ethiopia that is far from the truth asshole. I honestly believe some people are so ignorant about what actually is happening to people around the world that they think the world revolves around the US and Capitalism. Idiots.

Let me now get to the point of the above. It's not just hunger that is a struggle, it is also mental illness. Mental illness institutions used to be everywhere. They used to be a place for those who even did criminal acts (but did so in accord with their mental illness), there used to be centers that helped people like me and you with severe bipolar disorder and would give you sessions with someone to talk to, give you meds and help you. Now that is not a thing. Some places do exist to help the mentally ill but it isn't many. So what happened? We have sent them to jails-which have been privatized and that means the owners are making a pretty penny off criminalizing the mentally ill, and those who are so underprivileged they don't have much choice but to steal to feed their family or steal to get their mom her heart meds. We have psych wards that are supposed to help but I sometimes think can make people feel worse and more ostracized. The second someone hears you were in a psych ward they look at you like you have shot all over your face. I was just reading "Brain on Fire" and even the doctors in the book made a threat to this girls parents that if she cannot get controlled "she will be put somewhere worse"- which was a threat of going to the psych ward!!!! What the hell is that! So we are left waiting sometimes months to see a shrink or a counselor to talk to unless you have wonderful insurance (I am referring to here in the US). Waiting and Waiting. And here many doctors are scared to give you therapeutic levels of medicines that can be abused because so many NON mentally ill, or physically ill people smuggle their way into the system and get drugs they don't need leaving the rest of us suffering. But that is also on the doctors. If you know I am ill then don't under-medicate me so I become a crazed bipolar maniac lol. Don't let me suffer constant panic attacks because some other doctor didn't realize he was handing out scripts to druggies. Wake up!

My mind is clearly wondering and rambling because of the mixed state I am in so forgive me please. But I had to release it from my mind. Thank you for reading and please pass on to give others an understanding of what it is to be in the mind of a bipolar person.

Lea Silva

Dark Cloud Days

It does not really matter whether you are on meds or not some days are just gloomy. Gloomy like you have sat under a dark cloud by accident and every time you try and walk away it just follows you. The worst part about these days is sometimes that dark cloud rains down on you, sweeping you off your feet, and sliding down the sharp gravel road.

For some reason I just cried last night, thinking of the life I have had, the suffering other people have, and how I truly believe this world is so morally corrupt it be a shocker to see it be anything but. The sadness that sits on street curbs and store fronts, as they passively ask for just 50 cents, watching most people pass them by. Those people have it worse; some of them have mental illnesses that trump anything I have seen first hand. Then there's those sitting in their rooms closed off from what is supposed to be their support group i.e. their family, being stigmatized all the way to their commitment to die.

So what of me? I am not the only one suffering and I do not have it as bad as I could but that does not dismiss the fact that I feel a smothering darkness atop me. It just feels so exhausting sometimes dealing with the highs and lows. My meds do get at stabilizing me for the most part but not completely, never completely. That would be some sort of miracle. I saw a guy in an interview once say all it took was his meds to turn him around and feel 'normal'. What does that mean? And what was this guy taking because I have never felt 'normal' on any med?! I still have cycles of moods on meds, even if they are strong.

There I sit, delving into things that seem impossible, not so much a judgment of that man as an investigation into how he does it. Perhaps it is a lie and he never feels 'normal' he just does not want anyone thinking differently. Why? Because crazy isn't attractive, but I don't know that anyone with bipolar disorder should really be called crazy. Yes we have some strange going-ons that happen to us, some people see hallucinations, and others just cycle so quickly you might think they are two people. Sometimes I feel that way of myself. Me I am assertive on what I believe, I am super weird in general, but me swinging through manic, mania, and depression well that part of me loses patience, feels egotistical (it's a strange high that bipolar people get that makes them feel almost invincible and anyone that gets in our way better watch out), anger and rage become a serious issue, becoming easily annoyed or irritated, becoming hostile or volatile, and for me I can go from doing amazing, just on top of the world, to engulfed in a sobering unimaginable depression. Once that cloud hits I'm not feeling quite like myself. I tell me husband ahead of time (ahead of any kind of snap attitude) that today I am feeling like death and do not want to be teased or played with (you know the loving kind of way a couple plays around with each other like a pinch on the butt or a teasing silly remark-well those things for turn to be a horrible thing and I snap like a homeless dog).
I don't think any of this truly equates to crazy but some may think so. I think it's just a different way for a brain to function. Some days it is on par with what should be "normal" functioning, and other days it has special attributes that most wouldn't be willing to deal with- except maybe that part where you get an extreme high and everything looks amazing to you, you look amazing to you, all the trees and animals and the sky are just vivid and a sign of happiness. I say to myself sometimes 'wow you are crazy' because of the things I think and the ways I feel.

To be perfectly honest I have no idea if I have had hallucinations ever. That is a question for my brain to process because there are times where I am completely disconnected and it just feels like I am sitting in my brain unable to control anything and my body is just doing whatever- and at these moments I do panic because reality does not feel real. I can say this, there have been times where I spook myself because of obsessively pondering over something like the idea of ghosts, what happened when you die, what would a demon really be, and crap out of horror flicks most people don't' sit and compulsively ponder over for hours. When that happens I can tell you, and I have never said this out loud to anyone, I walk around the house extremely paranoid and will see 'shadows' is what I may call it, or I may fall asleep and wake up in sleep paralysis and see 'what would be demons' and I don't know if that counts as true hallucinations because when I read about sleep paralysis many people think they see demons, but I do believe in some kind of theory about ghosts. I am convinced that I have seen them and I was not always alone when they seemed to have appeared and whoever was with me did the same kind of scream-OMG what the F**** so either I hallucinated and that person was just playing along, or I and that person really saw something.
However, I do sit there and again compulsively think I am going to see something come up behind me or around the corner and my BP goes up, I start to panic and I probably do see shadows that aren't actually there but I have convinced my brain through obsessively thinking about it that something will show up. You will see me run out of the house and go anywhere but back home for a couple hours. I am surely digressing perhaps because this part of me is part of the dark cloud.

I remember not that long ago having a very gloomy bad day and I was at school. I did not want to be there and I would have given just about anything to have the choice to stay home without penalty-which I think I should since I PAY for my classes- but anyway, I was in a dark deep think smog. It was awful. I was sitting there trying to mind my own business reading a piece by Plato - Timaeus, which is a Creation story- and normally I wouldn't mind a friendly debate on the topic, but my friend and peer Josh, as usual, picked a bit of a debate about how these kinds of stories are irrational, while he knows I believe otherwise even though I don't know that I believe one myself. At any rate, I was so focused on staying calm and reading this piece that it just passed me off that he was interrupting me. At first I just replied with an attitude and went back to trying to read the piece, and as usually he has a rebuttal which is only normal during the course of an argumentative conversation, and I just flipped out. I was nasty and told him to 'fuck off and for once just leave it be so on' and he made another remark and I hit rage point and very embarrassingly I raised my voice got hostile and cussed too loudly. He left it alone after that like any sane person would clearly being able to see something was off that day. After a day or so, because I had to come down from the manic and mania, and I told him I was sorry and that day was just not a good day for me. Of course he understood and we moved past it, but I think that is the only time, maybe passively in another class, that I had ever got super angry, and the only thing I can say is I am happy that I only got to about an eighth of where I normally land on the rage meter.

I am always regretting those moments of getting so uppity that I get into serious anger mode. It may not even truly bother me what the other person says or does but I am so irritable and aggressive those days that I just hate just about everything but those persons whom I love. Even then though I have taken it out on them. They know the wrath of Lea. Me and my husband actually nicknamed that side of me Lequisha (only because it was the first name that popped up in my head that started with an L and was so different from lea). Those days are tough. There is this awful feeling when you have to put on your 'normal' face when deep down in the darkens you feel so miserable, exhausted, upset, depressed, angered so forth. I put a smile on all the time, or at least I try to when I am down. I think only a couple people can see past that bull shot façade- my husband, my mom, and only once did a stranger say something to me. I don't remember who this gentleman was and he was a friend on Facebook and he emailed me a message that took me aback. He said he knew by looking at my eyes (in pictures of me) that there was a hidden sadness that looks to be unrelenting. That I looked as if I was going down a deep spiral to a place he said he didn't want to see me go because I would end up dead, and that talking to anyone was better than bidding what I knew was in my soul and mind. I of course lied and said I have no idea what you are talking about because at the time I hid that I was bipolar publicly. I mean my mom knew, and other members knew but didn't see much of it because I hid it from others besides my mom and I didn't want this guy knowing anything about it. He probably dealt with it himself and that was how he knew but for some reason it bothered me that he knew.

I have become open about it in the last couple years because I realized hiding your pain, be it mental or physical, only leads to more pain. Suffering under the veil of obscurity helps no one. I am not fooling anyone, they know I go through episodes and I'm sure even my teachers may notice that on some days I am so caught up in my drowning in sorrow that I get aggressive during debates in class, or am aggressive against others comments in a way I normally am not- they know something is up, they have to.

These days I try and stay home because it is no use having me in class as I won't be paying attention I will be sitting there compulsively thinking about dark stuff. In my notebook there is some drawings in the margins of a person with their skull cut open and all these weird symbols falling out, there are pictures of dead flowers, dead faces whatever- and if anyone where to ask for my notes on that day I would definitely lie and say I didn't take any because I wouldn't want them seeing the f***ed up doodles.

Just like today I am so depressed and tired that I don't even know what I want to do. I want to write the blog post to help me cope with the day, see what I am really thinking, and then what- I always feel so antsy on these days- I smoke more cigarettes because I don't know what to do with my self, I will end up reading a few chapters not in just one book but several because I just don't know what I want, and I won't know what to do with my body, or say I want to eat for dinner, or know anything. Homework would be impossible today unless I somehow start floating up past the dark cloud.

I just feel like sometimes I am just not worth it. I am just so off and so weird and can be so aggressive that I am amazed I have my husband. He is wonderful in dealing with me and not many people can tolerate it. I get hurt when people say 'I don't know how much more I can take of this' because it's like hello how do you think I feel! I deal with what is actually happening in my brain you just get a small taste of it. Plus it hurts because I can't help my swings and I don't know that it should always be held against me. Yes sometimes I am just a real twat but I take responsibility for those days, but other days it really just isn't controllable. Now many say being on meds causing a person to lose creativity and fogs their minds but I feel it opens mine. I can explore more because my mind is not preoccupied like it is without meds. I can think of wonderful things to put into words, I can see the beauty stilt that lies outside, and I can certainly still doodle some pretty creative, but not so aesthetically pleasing due to dark content, figures, and I am a better reader and critical writer and editor on my meds because I don't feel as overwhelmed.
However, I do not feel motivated at all today as the dark sands of doom come swirling in around me, warping my thoughts and my visions of wonderful outcomes, I am left in despair over what I ought to be doing. I have been sitting here crying and not really delving into why I am so sad- because I don't really know- but on these days watch out for those horrifying thoughts about what death really is because it can lead you deeper down the dark stairwell that no one wants to be put down. I do that sometimes and those days I am so enveloped in the darkness I lay in the couch feeling sick, wishing reality for me was different and that I could process things more correctly. I sit there and my husband looks worried because he knows when my moods are changing. He tries to cheer me up and it's like I don't even like those things he is suggesting ATM because I am so engulfed in terrifying and magnificently deep fearful thinking. These  days are the days I need to reach out which is why I wrote my post today. I am in that mood, my thoughts are scattered and I am obsessing over particular thoughts and I need to climb the ladder back to the surface where I can see the warm glow of the sunshine. Right now I am in the dark damp pit of sewage waiting to have the courage and strength to pull myself up, or perhaps I am waiting for the helping hand. At least I know that eventually these things will pass and I will become immersed in sunshine at least for a little bit. -On the 25th I will have to tell my doctor that I need something else because I am still cycling and my anxiety is rising- and I may need a higher dosage on that since even at home I am having moments of despair that cause me to quietly panic so no one comes over and cuddles me because that doesn't help. I go sit outside so no one notices. Caught up in a world of doom and gloom and wishing for an escape. Living an ordinary life is not quite as adventurous as living with a bipolar mind, You don't need to see new countries to see and experience new things.

I guess I will have to write another post later because this is getting too long, and I will write about procrastination, moving a lot, being impulsive, and such. Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment and tell me how you're feeling on these kinds of gloomy days.

Lea Silva