I have not wrote a blog post in awhile. I don't really know why, perhaps because I have been happier or maybe I just didn't feel like telling the world how I was doing. I met someone wonderful and amazing who keeps my spirits up (for the most part, but that isn't his fault). I fell in love with him and I feel so safe with him. I have told him things I hadn't even told my ex husband or really anyone for that matter. Matters that only my family really knew. It is nice feeling like someone is there with you and has your back; someone that says I love you back and his words actually sound like they mean it.
However, even though I feel happy I still have this internal struggle. I don't think anyone really gets it unless they are mentally ill, or have had a serious trauma. How could they? I don't know what it is like to be shot because I have never been shot so I cannot expect people to understand my brain or emotions. I have had this thought on my mind about how I had wrote this one blog post denouncing the love I had for my ex husband, it was just to make him angry and once I knew he saw it I erased it. Who does that? I guess that shows how hurt I was that I felt the need to hurt him back. I don't know why I thought about that but I did. Maybe because I still feel hurt. I don't have to be still into him for it to still hurt. I think what hurts more is I keep thinking about the pregnancies I lost. Like to a point where it feels like I am in those moments all over again. And why won't it stop? It doesn't make any sense for me to keep thinking about that for no reason. Maybe I fear I will never have any children and it's because I see my lovely little sister going through her own pregnancy, which is wonderful and I am over the moon that it is going so well for her. Either way it is still stuck in my head. I feel the lump in my throat when I think about it. The seize in my head from the pain it causes me. I don't want to end up that woman without kids even though that's what she wanted since she was a young girl. I am not in any rush. I have a lot of schooling ahead of me and I am in no position to have a child right now anyway, but I'm not ready. However, that nagging feeling is still always back there taunting me. Never leaving me alone and I have no idea how to make it stop. I don't like being so emotional and not wanting to talk about it with anyone. No one can make it better, and nothing but time can tell me if it will ever even be possible. It's such a sickening thought. What I think is even worse is when I think of what would have happened if those pregnancies went to term? Would my ex have kept liking me, would I have even kept liking him? Probably not.
So what do you do? What do you do when something tragic won't leave your brain no matter how much you try and distract yourself? It just gnaws at you. If it's not bad enough already being overly emotional, even on meds, then you have that fighting inside your brain. It's deafening. Not to mention the stress that I feel I am under. I have to ace my finals and I have to ace the GRE which I don't feel ready for but have to take Dec. 30th. Hoping to get into a prestigious part of CSU that is very competitive. How do you get it together? Well I don't think that ever actually happens. You are always in this state where things can go better, or you could be doing something better or you could be blah blah. Is this what life is? Just some constant waiting game that is always ongoing and once one thing is achieved a million other things still need to be. Never feeling ready for a lot of things or maybe just not motivated to. I always tell myself I will get the things most important to me done but that doesn't always happen.
I try to tell myself that I am stronger when I am not. I try to convince myself that the constant nagging in my head will one day stop, even though it probably never will until I'm jumping out of a plane to my death. I guess that's the 'beauty' in life. Never knowing what will happen; never being ready; never understanding fully; never having no cares at all; being afraid of a thousand things. Without it life wouldn't be interesting. Without making mistakes living would be boring. Without loss you may not learn to truly love. Without loss you may not ever find out the things that you may really enjoy. Without trying or letting yourself experience things, huge or tiny, you won't ever know if you truly wanted it or didn't want it. How could you if you never take the steps towards those terrifying things.
Life isn't really bad. What happens can be bad but your life isn't out to get you. Chance is. I will never be able to stop it. I will never understand why awful things happen to me or why wonderful things happen. But being afraid is okay as long as it doesn't stop my life.
Showing posts with label Creativity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creativity. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Get free from Insecurity-Dissolution from neglect
Unfortunately most time when you are breaking up with someone or divorcing someone rumors are spread and usually by the guilty party. I heard my soon to be ex-husband told his friends I cheated, which is the furthest thing from the truth! His friend ran into my eldest sister and said oh I heard she fooled around behind his back, so of course my loving sister set him straight and his friend said that it makes more sense that Nathan would cheat on me! That's his friend saying this so clearly we know my ex has a bad reputation. You know when we first started dating I heard he had a wondering eye and was a player but he had me fooled. I honestly believe that sometimes when you are not medicated you can't see through the BS. Also we got pregnant by accident two months into our relationship and lost the baby so of course we bonded. However, I feel after the second lost pregnancy he changed and became that guy I didn't know. He became more distant and was never on the same page.
I know that I never loved him like an in-love wife should after we were married and we lost that pregnancy and he started acting distant. I couldn't. I felt abandoned in a rough situation. You know we always want to seem like an angel in our past relationships but I am not going to lie. I had my break downs as a mentally ill person were I would get really really angry and we would fight. I don't and never will deny that. I really cannot control it like most non mentally ill people think. I cycle rapidly and sometimes my mind goes to distant places and turns on me. Yet he knew I was mentally ill and took vows that he would be there through it all. I had wished that we would have waited to get married after he started being more and more distant. We would have our days where it seemed like he was who I first met but then it would change back to the distancing. It made me very insecure. Before I found out the bad news on May 6th this year we hadn't had sex in two months. Now I know it's because he had found something else (someone else) to play with. I had asked if he was seeing someone else and he lied to me. I don't miss him much to be honest because he felt like a roommate more than a husband. He put a status up blaming me for his weight gain, stress, gray hairs, and high blood pressure. I am not the cause of those things. He sat for hours upon hours playing video games and snacking on bad food and once when I told him that he wasn't eating great he of course wanted to deny it, and then blamed it on me for making meals that made him fat. You know I ate it and didn't gain much weight over the last two years (I gained 5 pounds from being injured and from pregnancies) but I portioned my food I cannot help if he ate badly that is his choice not mine. I didn't make him sit on his ass all day and play video games I actually tried encouraging him to do other things or to take me out to have fun and he was always negative about it.
We would get in arguments because I felt extremely neglected because most of his extra time went to playing video games. Now I know why. He didn't care to have me anymore so instead of being a husband he distanced himself and become what he was. A person that took no responsibility for what was happening to him, clearly since he blasted to the world it was my fault. He also blamed his mom because she would by snacks that weren't healthy. She never forced it down his throat he just ate it. He stopped working out because of bad acid reflux and that is not my fault. If he was stressed it was because HE was unhappy and didn't have the courage to just tell me that he didn't want to be married anymore. I knew the last few months he didn't because of the way he was acting and talking to me. He made me feel like I didn't matter anymore and only his problems were important. I showed I cared when he was not feeling well. I bought things to try to help him feel better, or help him study better for his tests and it seems to have gone unnoticed. As for his gray hair, I didn't make that happen. He was clearly unhappy and didn't take his vows seriously, messed around behind my back, and kept HIMSELF in a relationship he didn't want to commit to plus HE was having trouble in school not me. So any of those things could cause him stress.
Yes we started arguing a lot the last several months of our relationship because it felt like he was not there nor did he care. I am very emotional at points in time and it hurt me to be not worth his time when he was married to me and he made that choice. The only reason I was kind or kept trying to work on things was because I had integrity and had known I had made vows even though I wished I hadn't when I realized our marriage was only because of a short lived bond over a pregnancy. My mom has the theory that my lack of ability to carry pregnancies become unattractive and that is one of the reasons he had no want for me anymore. That's fine. I don't want to be with someone who cannot accept who I am. I did a lot. I did my duties as a roommate and wife. I paid for a lot. We did not go on many dates and sometimes when we did it would just be Dutch (which was a lot).
I guess I am hurt because I feel that while I still tried to be a good person, even if I did have flaws, he didn't care and made that clear and is not airing dirty laundry that is very personal and shouldn't be told to the whole world. If I didn't already get disrespected enough by him being dishonest, and being neglectful during our marriage I now get disrespected by him telling lies. You know how about you just say it didn't work out and we weren't happy if you cannot man up for what you did. I feel insecure because I felt worthless in that relationship. Some blame should be on me for not being completely honest about how unhappy I was and how I really didn't want to keep that marriage because it wasn't healthy nor happy. I guess I felt that if I did that I failed somehow but now I know that it wouldn't have been that. It would have been me standing up for what I wanted and deserved. I don't deserve to stay in a neglectful unhappy marriage where my husband feels like a roommate and has become some self absorbed stranger who cared overtly more about anything having to do with him than with me.
I feel that he is incapable of really taking responsibility for much of his actions. He chose not to ride, workout, be in the marriage, be honest, get off the video games, respect me as a person he at least once kind of loved and as someone who wanted something else. I feel he had manipulated me in the past which started arguments with my mom and sister and I was not medicated and became vulnerable because I would be paranoid or easily made to feel everyone was against me. I truly believe he took advantage of that and knew what he was doing. He would have conversations with me and make me feel like I was always the one that was doing something wrong by being mentally ill, and the things he would say about me not working out were not okay. He wouldn't take the time to understand how serious my hip issue was and kept on about how I needed to workout. I have a feeling he wanted me to be much thinner and that's the only reason he said that kind of stuff. You don't tell people things like that when they are very injured, can't help it, and feel a lot of pain with too much exercise or walking and I have a hard time figuring out how much is too much and what is a trigger for my hip. My back is all sorts of messed up and he has no clue about that either. No one will truly understand what I feel everyday. It is extremely uncomfortable and painful. I found out that my hip has a tear because I was born with dysplasia of the hip- the femoral neck has a rigid and straight neck to the femoral head which causes pain, tenderness, tendonitis, inflamed bursitis, and will cause tears to happen. I also have a shallow socket which explains why my hip easily slides out of socket. Now who would really tell someone in that situation the pain is all in your head, or you need to learn to just deal with it, and you need to workout way more even though I have serious limitations now. It just gets worse (my hip and back). I will need a major surgery that will reshape my bone and fix tears in my hip and clear out debris. Yet he wanted me to be overly concerned about his acid reflux and hiatal hernia which honestly can be taken care of with the right medicine. I cared that he was feeling pain from it, but I get acid reflux from my meds and I don't make a big deal about it. I don't make a big deal about my hip and whine all day and I put up with a lot of not caring and being 'over it' from him. He used to help me up, he used to give me his arm so I could sit up and he stopped doing that awhile ago. Sometimes he would push me up by the butt but that actually hurt my hip but he would have no idea since he didn't understand where my pain was or anything about it.
I guess I need to get this all out because I am aggregated not just at him but at myself. How dare I let myself deal with that BS. I should have stood up and said this is not okay, we are not okay, you are unwilling to work on things, you cannot stand me arguing because I want affection, this is no longer a marriage but a living around each other situation where I feel under appreciated for all I have done. I should have spoke the truth a long time ago about something I have now spoke up about to someone, but I didn't. I don't think right when I am going through episodes and depression, and I can thank Nathan for making me go get help when all I wished for was death, and a want to have died with my baby. But we were not good. He was never the one I should have married. He was never THE ONE. He was never someone I was deeply in love with because he was not and is not the love of my life. He just isn't. He can't be. We did have a bond after that first pregnancy but that shouldn't have led me to marry him but it did. I felt a lot of pain mentally and physically and I don't know if I thought that marriage was a good way to get through it, or that it would all work out but I should have known. When we were coming up to the wedding date I kept feeling if we hadn't gotten pregnant we wouldn't have lasted. I should have been honest with myself and others a long time ago and I am woman-ing up and saying that that was my mistake.
Further, I have felt so worthless because of how he didn't want to give me affection, respect, love, or really understanding. I have felt so down about myself because of certain things he had said, things he didn't do, and things he just didn't want to do, making it a chore to touch me, getting irritated and saying he hated that I would bother him to rub my back when he only wanted to caress my back for a minute (who says that?), that now it is taking me some time to feel like myself again. I felt that I was inhibited and didn't act like who I am at the core anymore because I felt so worthless. It felt like him not caring meant that I didn't have any value to him. Him getting so mad over me getting upset at how much time he spent sitting in that dang chair playing those games while I was going through some serious shit showed me what meant more to him- himself and his wants. Now it is easy to say goodbye. It is easy to accept this divorce. It is getting easy to accept love that feels so foreign to me, friends taking me out to feel special, my family showing they have my back and supporting me, and all the appreciation I have for it shows how little I was feeling it for the last year and a half. I shouldn't have dealt with that. It's not all on him I should have been honest and told him I didn't want it anymore but I was too proud because I had made those damn vows and didn't want to feel a loss in integrity. But that's just me. I am that kind of person. I stay true to my word. I am kind. I am beautiful even if I am five pounds heavier, I am extremely intelligent and cannot be fooled by dumb lies and while I had been underappreciated and manipulated now I am becoming empowered again. I feel insecure at times but now thanks to all his neglect and dislike and feeling of me not being worth much I feel like I know what I want and it ain't him. It never was. He made it easy to let go. But I am rebuilding myself one step at a time. I will prosper. And Karma will be in my favor.
Thanks for reading my novel.
Lea
I know that I never loved him like an in-love wife should after we were married and we lost that pregnancy and he started acting distant. I couldn't. I felt abandoned in a rough situation. You know we always want to seem like an angel in our past relationships but I am not going to lie. I had my break downs as a mentally ill person were I would get really really angry and we would fight. I don't and never will deny that. I really cannot control it like most non mentally ill people think. I cycle rapidly and sometimes my mind goes to distant places and turns on me. Yet he knew I was mentally ill and took vows that he would be there through it all. I had wished that we would have waited to get married after he started being more and more distant. We would have our days where it seemed like he was who I first met but then it would change back to the distancing. It made me very insecure. Before I found out the bad news on May 6th this year we hadn't had sex in two months. Now I know it's because he had found something else (someone else) to play with. I had asked if he was seeing someone else and he lied to me. I don't miss him much to be honest because he felt like a roommate more than a husband. He put a status up blaming me for his weight gain, stress, gray hairs, and high blood pressure. I am not the cause of those things. He sat for hours upon hours playing video games and snacking on bad food and once when I told him that he wasn't eating great he of course wanted to deny it, and then blamed it on me for making meals that made him fat. You know I ate it and didn't gain much weight over the last two years (I gained 5 pounds from being injured and from pregnancies) but I portioned my food I cannot help if he ate badly that is his choice not mine. I didn't make him sit on his ass all day and play video games I actually tried encouraging him to do other things or to take me out to have fun and he was always negative about it.
We would get in arguments because I felt extremely neglected because most of his extra time went to playing video games. Now I know why. He didn't care to have me anymore so instead of being a husband he distanced himself and become what he was. A person that took no responsibility for what was happening to him, clearly since he blasted to the world it was my fault. He also blamed his mom because she would by snacks that weren't healthy. She never forced it down his throat he just ate it. He stopped working out because of bad acid reflux and that is not my fault. If he was stressed it was because HE was unhappy and didn't have the courage to just tell me that he didn't want to be married anymore. I knew the last few months he didn't because of the way he was acting and talking to me. He made me feel like I didn't matter anymore and only his problems were important. I showed I cared when he was not feeling well. I bought things to try to help him feel better, or help him study better for his tests and it seems to have gone unnoticed. As for his gray hair, I didn't make that happen. He was clearly unhappy and didn't take his vows seriously, messed around behind my back, and kept HIMSELF in a relationship he didn't want to commit to plus HE was having trouble in school not me. So any of those things could cause him stress.
Yes we started arguing a lot the last several months of our relationship because it felt like he was not there nor did he care. I am very emotional at points in time and it hurt me to be not worth his time when he was married to me and he made that choice. The only reason I was kind or kept trying to work on things was because I had integrity and had known I had made vows even though I wished I hadn't when I realized our marriage was only because of a short lived bond over a pregnancy. My mom has the theory that my lack of ability to carry pregnancies become unattractive and that is one of the reasons he had no want for me anymore. That's fine. I don't want to be with someone who cannot accept who I am. I did a lot. I did my duties as a roommate and wife. I paid for a lot. We did not go on many dates and sometimes when we did it would just be Dutch (which was a lot).
I guess I am hurt because I feel that while I still tried to be a good person, even if I did have flaws, he didn't care and made that clear and is not airing dirty laundry that is very personal and shouldn't be told to the whole world. If I didn't already get disrespected enough by him being dishonest, and being neglectful during our marriage I now get disrespected by him telling lies. You know how about you just say it didn't work out and we weren't happy if you cannot man up for what you did. I feel insecure because I felt worthless in that relationship. Some blame should be on me for not being completely honest about how unhappy I was and how I really didn't want to keep that marriage because it wasn't healthy nor happy. I guess I felt that if I did that I failed somehow but now I know that it wouldn't have been that. It would have been me standing up for what I wanted and deserved. I don't deserve to stay in a neglectful unhappy marriage where my husband feels like a roommate and has become some self absorbed stranger who cared overtly more about anything having to do with him than with me.
I feel that he is incapable of really taking responsibility for much of his actions. He chose not to ride, workout, be in the marriage, be honest, get off the video games, respect me as a person he at least once kind of loved and as someone who wanted something else. I feel he had manipulated me in the past which started arguments with my mom and sister and I was not medicated and became vulnerable because I would be paranoid or easily made to feel everyone was against me. I truly believe he took advantage of that and knew what he was doing. He would have conversations with me and make me feel like I was always the one that was doing something wrong by being mentally ill, and the things he would say about me not working out were not okay. He wouldn't take the time to understand how serious my hip issue was and kept on about how I needed to workout. I have a feeling he wanted me to be much thinner and that's the only reason he said that kind of stuff. You don't tell people things like that when they are very injured, can't help it, and feel a lot of pain with too much exercise or walking and I have a hard time figuring out how much is too much and what is a trigger for my hip. My back is all sorts of messed up and he has no clue about that either. No one will truly understand what I feel everyday. It is extremely uncomfortable and painful. I found out that my hip has a tear because I was born with dysplasia of the hip- the femoral neck has a rigid and straight neck to the femoral head which causes pain, tenderness, tendonitis, inflamed bursitis, and will cause tears to happen. I also have a shallow socket which explains why my hip easily slides out of socket. Now who would really tell someone in that situation the pain is all in your head, or you need to learn to just deal with it, and you need to workout way more even though I have serious limitations now. It just gets worse (my hip and back). I will need a major surgery that will reshape my bone and fix tears in my hip and clear out debris. Yet he wanted me to be overly concerned about his acid reflux and hiatal hernia which honestly can be taken care of with the right medicine. I cared that he was feeling pain from it, but I get acid reflux from my meds and I don't make a big deal about it. I don't make a big deal about my hip and whine all day and I put up with a lot of not caring and being 'over it' from him. He used to help me up, he used to give me his arm so I could sit up and he stopped doing that awhile ago. Sometimes he would push me up by the butt but that actually hurt my hip but he would have no idea since he didn't understand where my pain was or anything about it.
I guess I need to get this all out because I am aggregated not just at him but at myself. How dare I let myself deal with that BS. I should have stood up and said this is not okay, we are not okay, you are unwilling to work on things, you cannot stand me arguing because I want affection, this is no longer a marriage but a living around each other situation where I feel under appreciated for all I have done. I should have spoke the truth a long time ago about something I have now spoke up about to someone, but I didn't. I don't think right when I am going through episodes and depression, and I can thank Nathan for making me go get help when all I wished for was death, and a want to have died with my baby. But we were not good. He was never the one I should have married. He was never THE ONE. He was never someone I was deeply in love with because he was not and is not the love of my life. He just isn't. He can't be. We did have a bond after that first pregnancy but that shouldn't have led me to marry him but it did. I felt a lot of pain mentally and physically and I don't know if I thought that marriage was a good way to get through it, or that it would all work out but I should have known. When we were coming up to the wedding date I kept feeling if we hadn't gotten pregnant we wouldn't have lasted. I should have been honest with myself and others a long time ago and I am woman-ing up and saying that that was my mistake.
Further, I have felt so worthless because of how he didn't want to give me affection, respect, love, or really understanding. I have felt so down about myself because of certain things he had said, things he didn't do, and things he just didn't want to do, making it a chore to touch me, getting irritated and saying he hated that I would bother him to rub my back when he only wanted to caress my back for a minute (who says that?), that now it is taking me some time to feel like myself again. I felt that I was inhibited and didn't act like who I am at the core anymore because I felt so worthless. It felt like him not caring meant that I didn't have any value to him. Him getting so mad over me getting upset at how much time he spent sitting in that dang chair playing those games while I was going through some serious shit showed me what meant more to him- himself and his wants. Now it is easy to say goodbye. It is easy to accept this divorce. It is getting easy to accept love that feels so foreign to me, friends taking me out to feel special, my family showing they have my back and supporting me, and all the appreciation I have for it shows how little I was feeling it for the last year and a half. I shouldn't have dealt with that. It's not all on him I should have been honest and told him I didn't want it anymore but I was too proud because I had made those damn vows and didn't want to feel a loss in integrity. But that's just me. I am that kind of person. I stay true to my word. I am kind. I am beautiful even if I am five pounds heavier, I am extremely intelligent and cannot be fooled by dumb lies and while I had been underappreciated and manipulated now I am becoming empowered again. I feel insecure at times but now thanks to all his neglect and dislike and feeling of me not being worth much I feel like I know what I want and it ain't him. It never was. He made it easy to let go. But I am rebuilding myself one step at a time. I will prosper. And Karma will be in my favor.
Thanks for reading my novel.
Lea
Friday, May 2, 2014
An Unknown Psychosis
Sorry I have not written in awhile, I have just been so disturbed by my thoughts lately, and atop that I have been busy studying for finals. I did finally see my psychiatric Nurse Practitioner who decided to up my Klonopin (for which I am eternally grateful for because I was having a bad time with anxiety), she put me back on Lamictal, and now I am to take 600mg of Seroquel a day. I hate that I have to use medicines to help me get back on track but what's a girl to do when she cannot control her mood disorder? I am mentally ill and I needed help getting back to a neutral state.
There is this lady on my Facebook that has been bothering me a bit. She keeps posting that Bipolar meds are addicting and that I should just pray to Jesus. Then I posted a picture, which I will upload here, that I drew and she told me I needed Jesus. Now look, I have no problem if anyone believes in the Abrahamic religious traditions. I find they give many people hope that they would not be able to get without a notion of God but with that said do NOT push your values on me. I believe in a different type of creation story than you. I do not believe Jesus was the 'son' of God. I believe he was a man that was probably mentally ill, that really thought he was a prophet, and who despite the mental illness was probably a fairly nice guy and wanted to help all those who were suffering, make a kinder world. I don't say that to offend anyone it is just my view. I have studied the Abrahamic traditions for a few years now, I know which letters in the New Testament are forgeries of Paul, while also knowing all the other letters except for one are also anonymous letters ascribed apostolic names. It is not hard to date these gospels and letters as many of them use symbolic rhetoric to discuss the happenings of those times. Like Revelation is about the temple fall. I am detouring here. My point is this, there is a gospel that even says Jesus' mom and sisters said he must have lost his mind, so is it that hard to believe he was one of us. One of those people who heard things because of psychosis, which was unknown then, and had developed some sort of mental illness. I do not think so. He still applied morals to his life and others so who cares. It's up to you to believe in God if you want, and Jesus, but for me I do not need that. Bipolar medications are not addicting as a recreational drug is accept for Klonopin. I am a creative person who plays instruments, draws, and writes- sometimes very disturbing things, but that is not a reason to tell me to 'seek Jesus as he will save you'.
No one is saving me! I am saving me. I am saving me by taking my meds. I have a bipolar psychotic break and guess what - there was no Jesus there helping. I was hearing things, seeing weird shadows, hearing people screaming, and I needed my meds. I used to be ashamed of talking about it because who wants to tell people - "Yeah I hear voices and shit" um no one. Well I have come to realize the more open I am the more support I get from my family and friends, and online friends. My courage to speak out may help others to find support within their networks.
Going through a psychosis is not fun, it is not easy, and it is not controllable no matter how much you pray. Usually you don't know what is happening. But I kept drawing pictures of myself with my head cracked down the middle like an egg with stuff flying out from it. I looked at my written journal, my handwriting was different, what I was writing was out there, and I was using pictures to help me tell myself I was losing my own mind. At least that's what it felt like. I didn't feel like me I felt like some other person and I was just trapped there in my brain handcuffed to a chair unable to control the steering wheel. It caused fights with my husband, who also didn't know what was happening to me, it caused me to think about death ( I know I have said this before but I want to describe everything), not just 'what if I kill myself' but curious thoughts on what would happen if I took too many pills and died, what would that be like, what would it be like to start dying and what would happen to me when I did take my last breath? It was hard coping with everything and I felt completely overwhelmed. It didn't matter if I had anyone to talk to because my brain would switch into a different direction and all the sudden the nice talk I just had seemed to be a manipulative talk trying to get me to bend to a person's will. I was getting angry and then angrier, and then rage. I couldn't handle it. That's why I was so impatient about when I got to see my doctor because I was screaming in my own head "HELP ME, I'M LOST" but no one could hear me. How could they. The irrational side was full force. Then I lost the bird which was so saddening to me bc I loved him so much. Then finally something switched, like a trigger. All the sudden things seemed to be in focus but I was in and still kind of am a deep deep depression. I feel like I am finally coming up for air but I still am a bit lost.
I felt extremely uncomfortable talking to the NP about my hearing things and seeing things because my dear uncle (who passed away when I was 10 or 11) was schizophrenic and had an alter ego named ping pong. Ping pong was mean and did not give a crap. I would change the change and I would get yelled at even though he was 'sleeping' (Cleary he was faking sleeping probably spying thinking we were against him at some points). He used alcohol as self medication, and I would be called to coax him into taking his meds (which probably where ineffective due to his alcohol use). So I was worried I got the schizophrenic gene when I started to hear things. It's very unsettling. I am not saying that anyone with schizophrenia is bad, but I didn't want the downward spiral my uncle had. His schizophrenic break was fast and rapidly made him lose his senses. I was feeling that was going to be me. However, while reluctant to tell the NP I did. She informed me that all sorts of mental illness have their own psychotic breaks that cause psychosis. This means a bipolar person can go into a psychosis and have symptoms that are common to schizophrenics, and psychopaths and sociopaths can have breaks where they go on a harmful violent spree, or start hearing things or seeing things, or start becoming more moody quickly and so forth. That news didn't make me that relieved because I feel as I get older it is harder to manage the bipolar disorder and I get weirder, scarier symptoms. How terrifying is it to hear screams!!!! But I am feeling better so that is an upside. I guess I have to come to terms with the fact that I have a severe form of bipolar and I may have psychotic breaks (thankfully not violent ones) and I will have to hope my family and friends can understand what that does to me and how it will affect them but that they need to let it roll off and take those moments of psychosis with a grain of salt. It's not me really. I mean it is but it's my mind turning into almost a different mind. I am not in there controlling it really. I will have my moments of control but I will also more than likely say horrible or disturbing things, or feel awful and extremely agitated or easily upset. It's almost like helping a baby lol. I need a support system to help me through those times. A system of love and compassion that can deal with it even if they are too having a hard time. Perhaps both working together to get through each others issues.
I say all this because I want people out there to know there is someone like you. Someone who was scared of what those voices meant, what it meant to live with some seriously disturbing thoughts and to become irrational very quickly and have no way to even tell the person in front of you "THIS IS NOT ME, I AM NOT LIKE THIS MIND THAT HAS TAKEN OVER!!!!"
There is an upside though!! From my own experiences with my mental health/illness, and other bipolar folks, and from some research I have done bipolar persons are much more creative and have a way of being able to connect events and dots quicker than the average Joe. A lot of very amazing people were bipolar and on that brink of death and curiosity, and psychotic breaks who gave us wonderful pieces of art, wonderful scientific knowledge, wonderful books, new ways to accomplish logical algorithms, new ways of thinking philosophically, and beautiful wonderful music that makes life more mysterious and intriguing. I wish that everyone for a day could experience what we feel on our worst days and then experience how vivid things become for us when we hit mania, how easy it is to connect the dots to make a more rational conception of happenings, and a brain that can create the most wonderful of things. Being mentally ill does not have to be a bad thing. It doesn't have be stigmatized and it doesn't have to mean someone is crazy or stupid. In fact it usually means the exact opposite, that they are very intelligent, perhaps yes a bit crazy but that can be used for beautiful things. Not all mentally ill people abuse substances to self medicate, and even if they do it's not because they want to be out of this world it is because they truly believe it will help them, even if it is making things worse. So when you look in the mirror and don't recognize yourself because of the illness remember that you will come back, and resurface. You are still you. Your mind is still in there it's just locked up a bit. Some neuron is firing wrong but eventually things will go back to your 'normal' (your usual mental health/illness state that you are more accustomed to and mower accustomed to handling). You are all beautiful and great in some way. You all have good in you and no matter how hostile you may become, or 'crazy', or paranoid or whatever- you are still a sentient person with values, and good. You can help others, you can tell your story, you can make your art and you can have all the same abilities as others but maybe in a different way sometimes. Embrace who you are!
Lea Silva
Of course there is Neurons included. I don't know that I will have to explain this to most bipolar people and mentally ill. I explained it to my husband and I will do my best to describe it here. There is a face in the picture with a very distorted nose and a disproportioned eyes, nose, and mouth. That's how I feel often when my mind feels like it is not my own. I have a face in another area (this smaller one to the right) which represents my struggle with myself, and the fact that for me then t=0 (time equals zero). I feel I have lost in in many respects and the lower portion is a synapses eating my rationality. There is a shield which represents the psychosis because it was not allowing a proper ability to think straight. The chest with a broken key, and there are some words that represent the things I heard during my psychosis like "lea wake up" "lea hurry up" things of that nature. That's all I am gonna say because I feel it's an abstract and the rest you can try and interpret for yourself to see if you get anything out of it. It's purpose is to be a mess and crazy.
There is this lady on my Facebook that has been bothering me a bit. She keeps posting that Bipolar meds are addicting and that I should just pray to Jesus. Then I posted a picture, which I will upload here, that I drew and she told me I needed Jesus. Now look, I have no problem if anyone believes in the Abrahamic religious traditions. I find they give many people hope that they would not be able to get without a notion of God but with that said do NOT push your values on me. I believe in a different type of creation story than you. I do not believe Jesus was the 'son' of God. I believe he was a man that was probably mentally ill, that really thought he was a prophet, and who despite the mental illness was probably a fairly nice guy and wanted to help all those who were suffering, make a kinder world. I don't say that to offend anyone it is just my view. I have studied the Abrahamic traditions for a few years now, I know which letters in the New Testament are forgeries of Paul, while also knowing all the other letters except for one are also anonymous letters ascribed apostolic names. It is not hard to date these gospels and letters as many of them use symbolic rhetoric to discuss the happenings of those times. Like Revelation is about the temple fall. I am detouring here. My point is this, there is a gospel that even says Jesus' mom and sisters said he must have lost his mind, so is it that hard to believe he was one of us. One of those people who heard things because of psychosis, which was unknown then, and had developed some sort of mental illness. I do not think so. He still applied morals to his life and others so who cares. It's up to you to believe in God if you want, and Jesus, but for me I do not need that. Bipolar medications are not addicting as a recreational drug is accept for Klonopin. I am a creative person who plays instruments, draws, and writes- sometimes very disturbing things, but that is not a reason to tell me to 'seek Jesus as he will save you'.
No one is saving me! I am saving me. I am saving me by taking my meds. I have a bipolar psychotic break and guess what - there was no Jesus there helping. I was hearing things, seeing weird shadows, hearing people screaming, and I needed my meds. I used to be ashamed of talking about it because who wants to tell people - "Yeah I hear voices and shit" um no one. Well I have come to realize the more open I am the more support I get from my family and friends, and online friends. My courage to speak out may help others to find support within their networks.
Going through a psychosis is not fun, it is not easy, and it is not controllable no matter how much you pray. Usually you don't know what is happening. But I kept drawing pictures of myself with my head cracked down the middle like an egg with stuff flying out from it. I looked at my written journal, my handwriting was different, what I was writing was out there, and I was using pictures to help me tell myself I was losing my own mind. At least that's what it felt like. I didn't feel like me I felt like some other person and I was just trapped there in my brain handcuffed to a chair unable to control the steering wheel. It caused fights with my husband, who also didn't know what was happening to me, it caused me to think about death ( I know I have said this before but I want to describe everything), not just 'what if I kill myself' but curious thoughts on what would happen if I took too many pills and died, what would that be like, what would it be like to start dying and what would happen to me when I did take my last breath? It was hard coping with everything and I felt completely overwhelmed. It didn't matter if I had anyone to talk to because my brain would switch into a different direction and all the sudden the nice talk I just had seemed to be a manipulative talk trying to get me to bend to a person's will. I was getting angry and then angrier, and then rage. I couldn't handle it. That's why I was so impatient about when I got to see my doctor because I was screaming in my own head "HELP ME, I'M LOST" but no one could hear me. How could they. The irrational side was full force. Then I lost the bird which was so saddening to me bc I loved him so much. Then finally something switched, like a trigger. All the sudden things seemed to be in focus but I was in and still kind of am a deep deep depression. I feel like I am finally coming up for air but I still am a bit lost.
I felt extremely uncomfortable talking to the NP about my hearing things and seeing things because my dear uncle (who passed away when I was 10 or 11) was schizophrenic and had an alter ego named ping pong. Ping pong was mean and did not give a crap. I would change the change and I would get yelled at even though he was 'sleeping' (Cleary he was faking sleeping probably spying thinking we were against him at some points). He used alcohol as self medication, and I would be called to coax him into taking his meds (which probably where ineffective due to his alcohol use). So I was worried I got the schizophrenic gene when I started to hear things. It's very unsettling. I am not saying that anyone with schizophrenia is bad, but I didn't want the downward spiral my uncle had. His schizophrenic break was fast and rapidly made him lose his senses. I was feeling that was going to be me. However, while reluctant to tell the NP I did. She informed me that all sorts of mental illness have their own psychotic breaks that cause psychosis. This means a bipolar person can go into a psychosis and have symptoms that are common to schizophrenics, and psychopaths and sociopaths can have breaks where they go on a harmful violent spree, or start hearing things or seeing things, or start becoming more moody quickly and so forth. That news didn't make me that relieved because I feel as I get older it is harder to manage the bipolar disorder and I get weirder, scarier symptoms. How terrifying is it to hear screams!!!! But I am feeling better so that is an upside. I guess I have to come to terms with the fact that I have a severe form of bipolar and I may have psychotic breaks (thankfully not violent ones) and I will have to hope my family and friends can understand what that does to me and how it will affect them but that they need to let it roll off and take those moments of psychosis with a grain of salt. It's not me really. I mean it is but it's my mind turning into almost a different mind. I am not in there controlling it really. I will have my moments of control but I will also more than likely say horrible or disturbing things, or feel awful and extremely agitated or easily upset. It's almost like helping a baby lol. I need a support system to help me through those times. A system of love and compassion that can deal with it even if they are too having a hard time. Perhaps both working together to get through each others issues.
I say all this because I want people out there to know there is someone like you. Someone who was scared of what those voices meant, what it meant to live with some seriously disturbing thoughts and to become irrational very quickly and have no way to even tell the person in front of you "THIS IS NOT ME, I AM NOT LIKE THIS MIND THAT HAS TAKEN OVER!!!!"
There is an upside though!! From my own experiences with my mental health/illness, and other bipolar folks, and from some research I have done bipolar persons are much more creative and have a way of being able to connect events and dots quicker than the average Joe. A lot of very amazing people were bipolar and on that brink of death and curiosity, and psychotic breaks who gave us wonderful pieces of art, wonderful scientific knowledge, wonderful books, new ways to accomplish logical algorithms, new ways of thinking philosophically, and beautiful wonderful music that makes life more mysterious and intriguing. I wish that everyone for a day could experience what we feel on our worst days and then experience how vivid things become for us when we hit mania, how easy it is to connect the dots to make a more rational conception of happenings, and a brain that can create the most wonderful of things. Being mentally ill does not have to be a bad thing. It doesn't have be stigmatized and it doesn't have to mean someone is crazy or stupid. In fact it usually means the exact opposite, that they are very intelligent, perhaps yes a bit crazy but that can be used for beautiful things. Not all mentally ill people abuse substances to self medicate, and even if they do it's not because they want to be out of this world it is because they truly believe it will help them, even if it is making things worse. So when you look in the mirror and don't recognize yourself because of the illness remember that you will come back, and resurface. You are still you. Your mind is still in there it's just locked up a bit. Some neuron is firing wrong but eventually things will go back to your 'normal' (your usual mental health/illness state that you are more accustomed to and mower accustomed to handling). You are all beautiful and great in some way. You all have good in you and no matter how hostile you may become, or 'crazy', or paranoid or whatever- you are still a sentient person with values, and good. You can help others, you can tell your story, you can make your art and you can have all the same abilities as others but maybe in a different way sometimes. Embrace who you are!
Lea Silva
Of course there is Neurons included. I don't know that I will have to explain this to most bipolar people and mentally ill. I explained it to my husband and I will do my best to describe it here. There is a face in the picture with a very distorted nose and a disproportioned eyes, nose, and mouth. That's how I feel often when my mind feels like it is not my own. I have a face in another area (this smaller one to the right) which represents my struggle with myself, and the fact that for me then t=0 (time equals zero). I feel I have lost in in many respects and the lower portion is a synapses eating my rationality. There is a shield which represents the psychosis because it was not allowing a proper ability to think straight. The chest with a broken key, and there are some words that represent the things I heard during my psychosis like "lea wake up" "lea hurry up" things of that nature. That's all I am gonna say because I feel it's an abstract and the rest you can try and interpret for yourself to see if you get anything out of it. It's purpose is to be a mess and crazy.
Friday, April 18, 2014
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
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
Sunday, April 13, 2014
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
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
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