The Worst Tragedies In Life Me As A Woman Went Through

Advisory: This post may be a bit long and if you appreciate hearing about the bad things that have occurred to others or you may need to find some support for read on my friends.

Some days are generally just harder than others. You can control yourself and show no outward signs of distress but internally there is a war. You do not always know why this war has erupted or why a certain thing has been triggered.

A lot of the time my trigger is the pregnancies I have lost. Something happens to you when you have gotten pregnant, been happy, so very happy, about it and then lost them. Forever are the memories of the physical pain that you felt when they were dying inside of you and when you almost died with them. The loss of energy, the sharp stabbing throbs from inside the womb letting you know you were literally feeling death inside you. Every time this happens in your brain, and it will over and over and over again, it brings tears to your eyes. 

I can remember my whaling when I knew. I just knew because I could feel it. I could feel my baby die. It is one of the worst things you could go through. I have been through a lot and I think it is why I have the serious triggers I do. I can tell you, but I will not describe it to you, I am still not ready, that I have been raped. I thought that was the worst thing to happen to me. I thought it had destroyed me for the longest time. I still to this day do not go out that much, or at least not alone because I do not trust many people. That affected me so deeply that I do not have many friends due to the circumstances of my abuse. I just simply do not trust many people. You should feel some honor if I have let you into my little circle of life I hold dear to me. I would only plead you don't destroy it. At any rate, losing those pregnancies was worse.

It may sound dumb to some people because they know women lose pregnancies all the time. Yet when you say women lose their babies all the time rather than they lose pregnancies it doesn't seem so cut and dry. It does not seem like oh she is simply 1 in 4 women. I LOST MY BABIES is what we want to cry out. It wasn't just a pregnancy it was our flesh and blood. It was our children we lost. Most of us never got to meet the children we lost. Regardless of your stand of whether life is sacred, if abortion is okay or not, if a fetus should have rights, when it happens to you, when you lose your pregnancy, no matter how far along you are you lost your child. I do not think I have ever written this thorough on the subject but I guess today is the day and I am not even sure why. Maybe because around this time two years in a row I had become pregnant. Maybe because I am sick of seeing women who lost their children, unborn or born babies, infants, toddlers, adult children whatever, as a statistic that stings every time. Or maybe it's a trigger from seeing so many murder and sexual abuse cases about children lately that it has triggered this. Or maybe, and this is definitely possible I see my two sisters with their children and sometimes it pulls those memories back to me.

Either way the triggers are there. Reminding you what you lost. I know there are many of us who lost our marriages or relationships along with those babies/children. Something was lost when that happened. At one point a bond was made for some of us. A tight bond with our lovers we never thought could be untied and then one day it fell to pieces. Losing the relationship is hard. It will never be easy especially if you were married and it takes time to repair yourself and for some of us longer because of circumstances in which it all ended. But you had already lost a part of yourself with those pregnancies and gained something new as well. Something changed internally, at least for me. Things I had thought were so important, so in my face, and so always there became nothing to me. I realized I had a dark tint on my eyes not letting me see the most vital things in life. So while to most I may seem like a very introverted loner, which I am totally, and I may even seem callous sometimes or shy, really things that are outside, like binge drinking or partying all the time or whatever thing I made more important than those things around me are now so futile and silly that I just let myself relax and take time to live. I gained an insight when I lost part of myself that not many people get or they do not accept. There is a way to be comfortable in the world without following everything everyone else does, or doing what you think you should be doing based on what has been spoon fed to you based on your society and culture. I even became more welcoming and satisfied with the way my appearance was. And I can tell you that was never true before. 

I can also tell you before losing those babies I was sometimes a wreck. Being raped can leave you feeling worthless about yourself. You may feel guilty for numerous reasons, disgusting, alone in a world filled with billions, suffering, and so so very blue. This can take over. It will destroy you if you do not get control of it. I would binge my way through life not giving any care for myself besides who I was around. I would drink until I couldn't remember. For the longest time I didn't, well I wouldn't talk about what happened to me or my response to it. I simply did not want anyone to know how vulnerable I was, or how vulnerable I made myself is really how I saw, and sometimes still do. Something clicked in my head though when I lost those pregnancies. Something told me that no matter what you are vulnerable and it is not a perfect thing but there is not much you can do. Your body will deceive you. It will hurt you and it will fail sometimes. Life will always do this to you. Because of this you need to realize what is truly important to you. Is it drinking all the time to rid yourself of your issues, or for some drugs? Is having a million and one friends truly important when you know that only a few are really going to be there always? Is it worth it to not love yourself? NO. It simply isn't. There are so many people who could read this and would be the ones to brush it off and not think twice about what they truly want in life. But I am not going to worry about them. They will either figure it out or simply will not.

I can say this though- having people who show you love, care, kindness, affection, happiness, hilariousness, sincerity, and true friendship (which is definitely also in romantic relationships) is where it is at. We can have great jobs, enough money to eat the greatest foods and wear the best clothes and drive the nicest cares but if you don't have sincerely loving people to enjoy it with it is worth nothing. If you do not simply have sincere and honest people around you who would be there always then your life is missing the crucial piece. We all need to love ourselves thoroughly and it can be so hard, and even harder to realize making BIG mistakes can just be a part of life that makes you better if you are good, but having those around you who are willing to help you realize that, or help pick up those broken pieces, or be the loving humorous friend who is just the person that accepts you for who you are you will feel alone and lost. 

I do not know if life ever gets easier for anyone. I doubt it. Even if you are rich and can pay for your problems to be solved more will arise. Remembering what is truly good for you what is wonderful in life is a gift. The pain I have endured throughout my life has not been easy. It in fact has been extremely challenging and it has negatively affected me in many ways. I still have these days were life seems helpless and I am down from what I have lost, or imagining what my life would be like with the babies I lost, even without my ex husband, and what kind of person I would be without those loses and without the rape. Death has occurred a lot in my life as well and I always wonder what if when it comes to them and it drags me into weird places that can be so depressing it is like having your mind locked in a dark damp disgusting cellar. But then, when all those tragedies build up and make life feel terrible, or like I am terrible, I remember they all made me who I am today.

I am humble to those who have donated to me to get me through rough patches, who have been by my side even when I seemed off my rocker, and simply just accepted me as a flawed, bipolar maniac at times and still loved me. While I would wish those things on no one and I would choose never to have to feel death inside me, or my own death looming, or being sexually abused in such a nasty way, it has made me stronger. It has made me courageous, honest, loving, caring, empathetic, affectionate, intelligent, introverted in just the right way for me, a non-alcoholic, a person wiling to give attention when you call upon me. It has also made me weird. It has made me find it necessary to find humor in small things and be a goof whenever I feel. It has caused some negative things- I sometimes am a hermit and do not want to associate with too many people in one day because for me it can be devastatingly exhausting, it has made me prone to social anxiety and even working anxiety, and has made me scared to ever want to get pregnant again or fall in love so deeply I make myself supremely vulnerable. Those things though are workable. Those things people who know me can understand why I do them. But the good things all people don't have or aren't willing to be. I am someone who experiences manic and mania and can accept the crazy in people and I usually gravitate towards it but others cannot do that or refuse to try and understand how to be there for you when you get that way but I have it because of all those tragedies in my life. So even when you feel lost in this world, alone, depressed, even suicidal think about how those negative awful things have made you somehow better or wiser because they have. Tragedies give us something we didn't have before while taking away a small part of us with them and that's OKAY. 


If you really read this whole post I thank you for being so generous with your time and hope I educated you, helped you, or at least somehow entertained you for the few minutes you had to read. 

Lea

The Never Understood

Sometimes I just want to scream at the top of my lungs "CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE ME ONE BREAK AND FOR ONE SECOND JUST TRY AND UNDERSTAND". I want to say that to a lot of people that have been or are in my life. It is not a choice to be mentally ill. It is NOT a choice.  At the current moment I am going through a manic-depressive episode. It is not fun for me at all. You get a nagging nagging nagging in your head all day about all sorts of things that may seem minuscule to some or may seem dangerously dark. It's simply what happens when I go through these episodes. I have NO control over it. I can try and calm myself, try and find things to do to keep me from wanting to just die, try and find people that are willing to try and understand, try and get the people or person I want to be there for me to help me but that doesn't mean any of this ever works or that I can ever get anyone to just be there. How do you tell someone "I am trying to reach out to you, and I need you" and actually get them to want to be there. It is no offense to anyone else when I specifically want a certain person or persons but at the same time I cannot make those people be there for me. Some people do not get it or don't want to and I cannot make them.

How do you deal with something you do not understand or do not wish to understand? I do not know that you can. I wish everyone just could. Even if they felt what I felt for one minute then maybe it would give them greater insight. How I wish I could do that for some people. 

When I am manic there are times when I can explode into a frustrated ball of madness, or times where I just get super upset and have a breakdown, and other times where I am just irritable or depressed. I am not always like this so I would hope those who love me could just be there for me when I get like this but again I cannot force anyone to do anything nor can I get them to understand. Sometimes I feel punished for these 'outbursts' and I do not feel that it is okay. I cannot help it. I cannot stop it. There is usually a trigger and that should be paid attention to not ignored and I never said anyone could not be mad that I get this way but a little empathy and compassion would not hurt. I cannot expect anyone to do anything ever. I couldn't even expect my ex-husband to 'deal' with me as he put it. He knew what and who I was and still wasn't willing to take a deeper look at the situation and try and understand. Some people aren't. I do not know that I can blame them for it either because who wants to deal with someone like me. I seem irrational to most people and my emotions can be so overpowering that most people just think 'oh she is overreacting'. But to me I'm not. To me that is how it works. That is how my brain works. I do not constantly question why so called 'normal' people (or people who aren't mentally ill) do not think my way. They just don't. 

I am always feeling judged. I always feel like people, even people I love, look at me and just think sometimes 'she is too much'. But too much what? I will never know how to explain what I go through. How my brain works or why I do or did what I did. It isn't really a possibility. Words are not enough. I can put words in tons of different orders and still I feel people do not understand. I do feel many other mentally ill people or bipolar people can understand but that is because they know what it is like to have a brain that literally works and is formed differently. There is evidence of that and evidence that in our genes and DNA we are different. Our emotional centers take over. If that takes over so much, so powerfully that what we see in reasoning normally is not the same at the time of the emotional override. I am not downgrading emotions here. They are useful resources for us. They help us build are moral values and ethical systems but that does not mean they cannot be destructive too. Our reasoning can be destructive. Over reasoning can be an awful thing. But when an emotional override happens (I am going to use those terms because it is probably the easiest way to explain this even though it doesn't really cover all) it's like a link in the chain has been broken. Something happens. Something detrimental happens. 

From personal experience I know that I can go from feeling great and happy to enraged within seconds. One trigger and then all the sudden everything in the world is on fire in my eyes. Nothing matters except getting the rage out. If I do not get it out it will linger and most likely turn worse or into something worse and more dangerous. How I get this rage out depends on the situation. In my past whoever was closest got hit with it, especially if they were the trigger. Through therapy I have worked to not do that. At least not as much as I used to or as harshly. I have learned to recognize this happening and to try and leave the situation or room. Sometimes I have to throw things (unbreakable things now), scream, rip something up, hit something (I have broken fingers and toes from this but it still helps) or let it gather until I collapse from the exhaustion it causes and cry. It seems weird and terrifying to others. It seems crazy. So try and imagine how I feel.

That is not the only thing that happens though. I can also be triggered into being dangerously upset or sad or depressed. When this happens I will snap and have a breakdown. It may be one that causes me to say hasty hostile things, irrational things, depressing things like "I want to just die" or "I wish no one had to deal with me ever again" etc. These moments are especially hard for me. I have no control. I have none. What can I do. I can walk out of the room or turn my phone off but that doesn't always work or sometimes I cannot push myself to do it. And if it is a depressive mood me being alone is probably not wise. I have sedated myself before. I have never admitted that out loud to anyone except my boyfriend. I couldn't take it. No one was there and I didn't care. I wanted to be gone from the world. I sedated myself and slept for days. I woke up here and there to go to the bathroom or get some water but that was it. When my ex-husband finally came around to asking me what was wrong or if I was feeling well I just said I was sick and he took me at my word. Which is fine. What else could he have done. But during these times I am needy. I need help. I need love. I need empathy. I need unconditional friendship. I need someone to be there without judging me. When I get like this it is harder to explain than the rage. I do not know where to even start!

Something happens maybe, or maybe I am just in a bad episode. Either way I start to feel this dread come over me. This violation of my happiness occurs. The darkness starts to roll in and fog all the good out of my mind so all I see is the sadness, or the bad, or the worthlessness of myself. It is horrifying to experience. I cannot speak for other mentally ill people but I know that a lot of time this makes me hate myself. I dwell on all those little things I have ever done, or all the bad things happening and cannot understand why I am even here. Why anyone wants to deal with me or be my friend. Why I even want to be here. That is how awful it feels. And I do not want some pity party. This is not a woe is me. This is just part of me that I am trying to explain. Sometimes I push during these times. Sometimes I push people away from me because I do not know why they even want to be around me or be my friend or love me because I think I am awful in those moments. There are also moments were I push because I consider killing myself. If I am going to I do not want anyone liking me because then they would be upset. Yes, I know this sounds crazy to a lot of you but it is just how it works for my brain sometimes. Of course I know I can push all I want but the people who really love me will still be there. When the darkness falls in my mind and all is consumed all I can see is the black. The detrimental black. I see things or notice things that most others probably would not or get bothered by things most people wouldn't get bothered by. When this happens a lot can set me off. A stressful moment, some bad news that probably isn't that bad, having something not go my way when I really wanted it to, having a feeling that someone I love is being distant (this may not really be the case but I see it that way which only aggravates the depression and makes me think "See I am not worth anything"), or I could feel that things are just crumbling around me when really they may not be. But if I get hit by something like that then I will have a break down of some sort. It may be that I just collapse crying, roll up in a fetal position and cry, stare at things that could kill me, freak out beyond recognition to where someone will have to forcefully embrace me to calm me, or I could fight with you. Not physically but vocally. I may start a fight over something that seems really dumb or over something out of our control but it just happens. I have no idea why. I will never be able to tell any of you why this is happening. The only thing I can do is apologize if I hurt your feelings because I said something nasty or something I didn't mean, or for making you feel like I am just a bundle of dread. I hate that. I am always worried I will be left behind because most reflect back on those bad moments where it is just bad. Where the mental illness is just dark and depressing. But that isn't all me. So when these things happen I just need understanding. That doesn't mean anyone has to actually totally understand what I go through it means I need that person to take a minute to realize that what is happening to me is not controllable and that I need to just calm down and whatever I say needs to be taken with a grain of salt. I don't mean most of it when I am fighting. Somethings I do because there are things that upset me and I will say them but other things are just me blowing out the steam. I always apologize or try and make up for it though. Always. 

There are some people who will tell me I have no reason to apologize for things I cannot control but I feel like I do. I shouldn't say those things and while I feel there isn't much control beyond where I have come to now in my life that I have hurt someone and need to make it right. If I am crying all day I do not apologize for that. Sometimes that needs to happen. If I am stuck in bed all day I do not apologize for being gloomy just as I would not expect a depressed person to apologize for being depressed. However, I do when I know I have overreacted in a way that hurt someone or upset them. Forgiveness is needed though and that is the understanding I am looking for in those moments. Trust me I punish myself quiet a bit for having those moments. I already feel awful about myself and when I cannot control my ridiculous temper or emotions it makes it even harder for me. So please, to all my friends and family, give me some slack sometimes (most of you do). When I ask for help please just help. When I need to just bitch and I raise my voice know I am not yelling at you but the world. When I say I want to be left alone it is not personal which is why I understand when others tell me they need to be alone. Usually though I do not want to be alone for long because I know it is not that healthy for me. It can make me worse so sometimes I need to be forced to be put into an environment with another person. Even if it's just watching movies with mom or Shawn or my little sister or calling my older sister. I just can't be left to my own devices for too long. Or it get's worse.

Getting help is sometimes hard too. I may want to see a therapist at this moment but actually getting to talk to one takes a long time. You need an intake interview and then eventually, after weeks, you may finally get to see someone who will actually listen and be someone you feel comfortable with. I have despised most of the therapists I have had accept one. However, she still didn't seem to take some of the things I said into consideration or was very unresponsive to the help I needed. So sometimes I just need a loved one there instead. Please never give up on me.

I need to bring up also that I have other episodes. I have mania sometimes. These modes can be hard to deal with too because I get wired and high on neurotransmitters and hormones. I am UP UP UP. I am through the roof with energy and I can stay up all night for days in a row. I want to just do stuff and can be aggressive, and sometimes hostile but I just need to GO. For many this can be quiet annoying. I sing a lot and I goof around too much and I have a hard time being serious. And if this high get's ruined I get agitated.  This kind of episode is harder to explain and hard to control. I have no real way of coming down. I have meds but as I said in the last post I stopped taking them because I was worse on them than off. I need to find activities during these times. Tons. Or I need to be socializing or working. But have faith that these episodes for me last a lot less longer than the manic-depressive ones.

And then for most of the time you get me. I am still different. I am still very sensitive and emotional. I am still needy and I know no one in the world could possibly give me all I want because I want everything. But I do not know that is always a flaw. I feel when I love you in any form my neediness comes in hand. I am more generous than most because I want to be there for you. I want to be around people I love. Sometimes it is only a specific few or maybe just one person but that means I am there always for you for whatever. I may be sensitive but for me this gives me an edge most don't have. I can pick up on things most can't. I can find the small details that matter but are hard to find. I can see logic where some can't and I can find solutions where others may not see one. My emotional state is usually high but that makes me empathetic to others. I am humble and very generous. I will be there for you whenever you need me because I, emotionally, can understand what it is like to need help, or a shoulder to cry on, or a hug, or whatever. So being bipolar is not always bad. It makes me a perceptive, interesting, and loving person. If you can handle my episodes than you also get a kind friend on the more normal basis. I have made mistakes and will make more but that doesn't mean I won't make up for them. I am never going to be perfect or ideal. I will be that woman most think is just off her rocker but that is ok. I have accepted that this is me and I would only hope those who love me or are friends with me would be accepting too!

Now my last point. I need to get this off my chest. Someone young I know, and I am not naming them here because that is not my place, is not doing well mentally. She is having issues that are deep. I know those feelings and the hardship it causes on one's self esteem. I know that it hurts so badly that you will do anything to try and make it stop. Considering suicide is usually one of the key answers to this type of pain. I am fortunate enough to have convinced myself of ways to not do it or to talk myself out of it. I imagine my mother's face finding me dead. I cry every time I imagine it. I am literally tearing up right now. I know what it would do to her and I can't handle it. I know she is strong but that would devastate her. I have never been to the point, obviously, where my internal pain overrides this caring for my mother's devastation and I hope I never get there. I know my whole family would be upset but what always does it is seeing mom's face. This young lady I am talking about though, I do not think she has that. She does not have that thing yet to tell her NO this will do something you do not want to happen. I see the pain in her and I empathize so deeply. She has been committed now for fear she would kill herself or try. She has been doing self harm and doing inappropriate things. I honestly believe she is trying to say something without saying it but I do not know what exactly yet. Of course she wants to call for help but won't directly do it. It took me a long time to actually admit when I needed it. But I think there is something else. She is clearly feeling insecure which is shown by her actions and she is acting out of control for a reason. What she needs is understanding which she has by most-maybe not her peers but by her loved ones. However, without the correct hope she is going to push it too far one day. One day it could severely harm her. One day if she does not cooperate she could lose a lot of the things and people she has. So I feel since I can empathize deeply I need to find a way for her to reach to me. I do not know exactly how but I will find a way. This is affecting me deeply. I am already going through an episode but with this on top of it and my grandma's (who is no longer here) birthday being yesterday I feel dark. I feel lost. I feel alone. I am worried and stressed and I need to release it somehow. I need someone, someone specific. But I cannot control that that someone be there. I just wish I could take all her pain away so she could just enjoy her beautiful life. I wish I knew how to get her to realize that the feeling of self-loathing isn't always there and sometimes you get a break and realize you are worth it. If you can find the good in you, the things that make you special then you can get through your harder moments of believing you are not worth anything. I will find a way to show her this. I will. I cannot find her dead one day. I cannot get that call. I have to find a way.

Please pass awareness out about mentally ill people. Be understanding and try, even when it is hard, to empathize and give them a chance. It can be hard to tolerate. It can be difficult to deal with someone going through these things but never give up. That in itself can make that person fall from where they finally got to back to a worse time. I know it is hard and sometimes walking away from me or anyone like me seems like a better and easier bet but remember that those people are hurting. They have an internal pain that is hard to understand and is pretty uncontrollable. Of course there are ways to get better at dealing with it and we try, I believe most of us try really hard to cope and deal with it. I know I have worked extremely hard and always will. But bringing awareness to the problem is something everyone can do. Helping people get educated on what these mental illnesses do to people can bring the mentally ill more ease of access to help or at least to more helping friends and family. You can be aggravated at them, mad at them, upset with them, but just remember that they are not like you and never will be. They cannot control a lot of their feelings and it affects them deeply. Just spread some love.



Lea

The BIPOLAR bear is misunderstood. Can I say ANYTHING? I need help

Once in awhile, in the middle of the night, I wake up and do not know where I am. I simply think I have been awakened from some coma of life and now, just like that, everything changed just by opening my eyes. That is terrifying sometimes. Maybe it's because I do not know who I am so I do not know where I am in my own life. Can you imagine? Of course, well probably, because I assume that a lot of people feel this way. 

Is it hard being honest with yourself? I think so, at least sometimes. Maybe even most times. Look at the sky and the universe. How is my little existence even important. Especially when my species ruins everything, and I mean everything. Our emotions can be so out of control that we destroy things within a few measly words. How insane is that! So why does that happen? I don't get it. What difference does it even make? Why then should we say anything? If I say why I am upset to someone since I no longer am willing to keep my feelings inside and hide in some mask that says "I swear I am normal", why does that automatically mean that the person will be defensive? Now of course we are all that way, well most of us. It is our human nature. I get upset like that too. We are mad we hurt someone. So we find a way to make that person feel hurt because they just hurt us by their honesty and this is called the defense. 

Why can we not simply handle the fact that we upset someone? I mean even if they are upset and it seems so silly to us or not worth it, why do we get so upset? Because if the tables were turned we would be aggravated that they were getting upset with us for being defensive. So why do we even do it. Yeah human nature and all but don't we have a mind that we can use to calm ourselves and think rationally for one moment without assuming that person is trying to change us, or annoy us, or only get what they want, or the always "why can't they just get me" defense?

I would like to think so since I have met so many people that are so much calmer than me and not too much seems to get them defensive. Now do not get me wrong, there are times when someone is upset because they do not understand and so it does seem silly to us, or they are upset over something that seems ludicrous- like "Oh I went out with my friends and now your upset at me?" or "I didn't do this task exactly as you do it so now your mad and think i am an idiot?". That happens. But if we dig deeper do we see maybe why a person feels that way? 

Not communicating can be a trigger of course. That is usually always mine. I HATE IT when a person refuses to tell me anything. It drives me mad. If that person could say why they can't tell me at that moment i.e. "I am angry and I do NOT want to discuss this. I promise I will talk when the time is right", that would be okay. Not everyone is like me so other people have their triggers for the so called ludicrous upsets above. I always wonder what is in that person's past or what is going on a little deeper that they feel that way. I cannot say I am a saint and ask that question in the middle of one of those kinds of arguments, nor can I say I even ask myself "why do I REALLY feel this way" because I am just upset at that moment. 

We all have those moments right? But what do you do?

I have held so much stuff in in the past that I simply refuse to not be honest. I do not care how crazy it sounds, how annoying it may be, or whatever, because me getting it out is the only way my brain can then function on a 'normal' level. I also think that when someone states "I never complain about you, I just like who YOU are" they are just not being honest. There is always SOMETHING that is annoying to that person. Me being honest and outright is usually the case because I am not always elegant in the way I word things or how I present them or my timing. Especially my timing. I just say it. I say it. I do not need to think about it because if I do then I will probably end up just holding it in instead. That is NOT okay.

However, what sucks is that people want honesty, or at least they say so, or they say they care, but when you say what is hurting you, making you angry, sad, happy even then somehow it turns on you. What you just said can now hurt them. You are upset and now because of that they are now hurt in return. Like I said above this happens. I believe this reaction is due to not wanting to hurt someone you care about but you are then upset you upset them and that person made you know you upset them that it is time to flip it. This is the usual line of action here "Well if you don't like who I am why are you with me?" or "I am not you so I cannot be you" but that isn't what we are ever asking is it? Well maybe for some people I would think that is exactly what they are asking but most I think are not. I am not when I talk. I ask to work on things sure but that does not mean any of those responses. But it's hard. You do things, you say things, you act certain ways and sometimes others do not get it so you get defensive because to you it is like why the hell don't they just leave it be or accept it or get over it. It's not really that simple.

As I said above when the tables turn the one who was frustrated and defensive, who is now upset, is sitting there asking the defensive one "why can't you accept my feelings?" "why can't you try and understand me now?" but did you try to get them when it was reversed?

So is there anything anyone can EVER really say? When someone is upset because of something someone else did or did not do does that mean that they aren't considering the other person, or is it that they both need to consider each other. Stop saying you are trying to do this or you don't realize I am here too and I matter too because that can turn into a reverse where the upset one doesn't matter now because you don't want to hear it. 

So it seems like there is NEVER anything you can say unless that understanding that I just stated is there. But can it ever be? I don't know. All I know is I need communication. That's what I think a lot of people simply want. To know what is happening, why someone did this or that, why someone said this or that, why someone blah blah, you get it. I don't think that takes a lot to do but it seems pretty hard to do at the same time right? 

Forever I hid myself from people. I wouldn't communicate what aggravated me or what was going on in my brain and one day I would get dangerously close to wanting to leave this world. I would find a way to convince myself otherwise because I have people I love. I have things I love. Sometimes even then though it was hard to turn around. To just keep going. I do not know that anyone will ever truly understand how that felt for me. Or what that felt like specifically for me is what I should say. And I don't know that I could ever truly explain it either. Would it matter anyway? Would that suddenly give an epiphany to those who don't get to where, when I speak, they just understand? No. Probably not. 

Now it's truth time for me.

When I say how upset I am or why, or both, I feel constantly that whoever I am talking to, be it my closest family and friends, or distant friends, that I am being judged. CONSTANTLY. My emotional scale varies and I am different thanks to being bipolar. When I feel I FEEL. When I get upset it may not seem right to anyone else how upset I am so I am being judged. I know that I can be looked at like I am CRAZY but I don't believe that is fair. I cannot help the way I feel nor will I hide it anymore. I am this. I simply want to be able to say "this is what is happening inside me, will you communicate with me please so we can get through this so this stops tearing me up inside?" It can be so hard for me to talk in the first place because of this feeling of judgement. I don't know that the people I talk to actually are doing that but I have been judged so harshly and told so many nasty things for trying to be honest that it is ingrained in me. 

Every time I want to say "look this hurt me" I constantly remember how certain someones have looked at me, spoken to me, treated me, when I needed to talk, to be calmed, to be loved, and what I got in return was non-acceptance. I constantly am aware of my flaws. I am NOT perfect. I am NOT close. I am AWFUL sometimes. I can fly off the handle. I can become so angry I break things, and not just typical I have a reason to be angry angry but more like this small thing just happened. It set me off. Now I am raging for barely anything and I have no idea how to stop it. However, I have worked very hard, and I mean very hard, to deal with this. I have had help to train myself to leave the room when this happens. To go let it out with tears or by throwing unbreakable things, or paint, or write. But I have not learned yet to cope with the fact that I get judged sometimes when I speak the truth. This happens with a lot of people. I can be in a class and someone says something so outrageous and ignorant (to me at least) that I argue (argue in the non-fighting way like a philosopher should) but I can get very weird looks because I get so passionate. I'm being judged. Right there. In a class where I am SUPPOSED to argue. 

When you have dealt with people who you thought loved you on some level who have made you feel that you shutting up and being hidden is better and you overcome that, telling how you feel is difficult. Anyone who feels judged ever can, I am sure, attest to that. 

I do not think I have ever truly kept myself open to my own self. When I got divorced I said "I will move past this and it will be okay". I even thought quickly I was okay. I wasn't. And I think this is the first time I have said that to anyone. I am STILL mad. I do not love him. I do not want to have anything to do with him. So much so that I keep getting a hold of his mom to pick the rest of my stuff up and then I never show. I do not want any reminder because I was so hurt. This affects me still. I still have trust issues. I trust many people but that does not mean it is easy. He was not the only one to break my trust. My father broke my trust and I will never forget it. He is dead now. We actually got to talk before he died but I won't ever forget the dagger to my back. I have also abused my trust from others. I cannot deny that. I hurt my sister very badly once and I won't ever forget that moronic move in my life. That still affects me. That still makes me feel guilty. But what is disgusting to me is there are people who are not like me. Who don't feel that kind of remorse for doing something so distrustful and distasteful. They do not care. They cannot even admit it sometimes that they mislead you or betrayed you. Now that sucks a lot. I need honesty. I need communication. I literally need it because otherwise the trust I am trying to recover won't ever be built if I do not have that. And it is not the people's around me fault. It's not. However, I believe that when you love and care that you can do those things for people to help them. To get through things. To help them deal with things that are hard to move past.

I did not want to love the person I am with that is how scared I am of trusting someone. I did not. I avoided him and I tried to not like him and it was impossible for me. Now I cannot imagine him being gone. And maybe, maybe not, he will always be here, or maybe he won't like dealing with me and he simply won't. I don't know.  But I know I let myself trust him. And it wasn't him it was me who had to let myself do that. Now no one has to understand that and some may interpret it like "well if you can't then blah blah" but that is on ME. It is on me to allow the trust to be built. I went through a lot and I need to learn to build trust. I need help though and I cannot deny that. I need always to be honest. And I am. Sometimes probably too frankly but that is how I am. I am socially inept sometimes and I do not know the right way to do it. But I am working on it. And I will always need it in return. I need it with him, my mom, my sisters, my aunt, my friends, etc. I will never lie down and let myself drown again. FOR ANYONE. NEVER. I know though that those people won't let me. I also am not delusional and know if they don't want to deal with it, or deal with me, they don't have to. They can ignore me. Or just leave me be. But I would hope, and feel I know them to the point they wouldn't. 

But I need to tell them something. It's important. And I do not need you judging me.
I am NOT on my meds. I have not been on them in months. They made me foggy, forgetful, unmotivated, and felt like they were hurting me more than helping. I have to take so much stuff to keep my body in check already that those meds made it too much. I wanted to learn to deal with myself. I wanted to learn to always be honest. To deal with me overreacting sometimes. To being overly depressed sometimes. I wanted to feel again. I just did. Those meds were good when I went through what I did last year. I was scared to go off of them because everyone will tell you not to and you always need them. But I want to feel. Those meds stopped me. I didn't need to be honest, I didn't need to hide, because those meds took all of it away. ALL OF IT and not in a good way. Things started to seem so pointless to me. They seemed awful, boring, and dull. I was getting angry because of this. They did a reverse on me. But I withdrew from them and all the sudden there was life, not a dull background mundane non-existence. I am sorry if this makes me more emotional and perhaps harder to deal with but I need to feel things. I need to see things in my perspective not some drugs perspective. I need to be able to read and remember. Learn and enjoy. Love and feel it. 

If you don't want to handle me being emotional I never asked you to do it against your will. If you don't want to listen to me I never asked you to do it against your will.
If you don't want to hang in there with me while I go through whatever I am going through you do not have to. But just let me know that.

I am bipolar. I am a carousel of emotions. I am up and down and down and up. I see things differently than a lot of people. I feel things in a different way that seems crazy to others. I think it is why sometimes I can be so intelligent and diligent. Or why I can see details others don't. Why I can see plot holes, or holes in lies. I think it is why I can be so honest about how I am feeling. Because I need to. I think it is why I can be artistic in different ways or see the beauty in things that others don't see. Why I can see several perspectives at once. Why I can be understanding because of seeing those perspectives and then flip and get upset the next second. I also do not need it to be an excuse. I simply am what I am. I have worked on many things about myself that I did not like, that others did not like, that were ruining my life and I am always okay with that. I need work. Who doesn't? But I am willing, I just need help.

I am very upset with some people to this day even though it is in the past. It is not easy to deal with certain things in the capacity that I did. There have been things that I think that most people would think I am crazy for. What they did, without consideration for anyone else, or maybe they did but glazed over it, was not okay. What they did changed me. Changed my perspective. Changed how I cope. It was that hard for me. Knowing what I went through with certain people and how viciously they turned on me burnt my core. And now I have to deal with the repercussions of those actions and the people around me do to because of its affect on me.  

How do you not let those things affect you? I don't think you can. I don't. No one knows everything about me. Not one single person in the world knows everything about me. No one knows everything that has ever happened to me good or bad (especially bad). NO ONE. I would hope NO ONE would ask me to tell them all. I would hope, however, through their love and understanding they would help me as I would for them.  That they would not need to ask why but would say okay. They have done this when I needed it. They never asked me questions twice if I did not want to answer. I am alone sometimes though. I am so very alone. I think I hate most when I want one specific person to be there and they can't or won't. It could be anyone that I feel I need but then they aren't there. Or they don't know what to do or they don't want to be there. I am too much for some people I suppose. Or maybe my honesty or my past hurts are too much, I am not sure. I would like to think I am generous and kind, and I am always here, but I can be weird. I can station myself in my room for days, or weeks, only wanting contact with certain people. But I am there even in those moments when someone needs me. I am good with people usually except when I am upset. That's when things get so flustered and then people get defensive, unresponsive, confused, or are simply there and help. 

How am I to do this? How am I to figure out all of this, all of my tiny life, all of my happiness and failures? What am I supposed to do? If I cannot be upset or ask for help or ask for someone to talk to, and if I am accused of not accepting someone because I am upset then doesn't that mean they can't accept me as I am because I do get upset and am honest? I am not all just that. I am also happy plenty of the time. I like to believe I try and have fun and have interesting arguments and conversations with whomever wants to talk philosophically or otherwise. I feel I am loving, very much so. I would sell everything I ever owned if it would help my family if they needed it. I would be there broke helping out whoever if they needed me to take care of them. I will listen and love and care. Maybe too much. Maybe that is part of what I am and maybe that comes with being bipolar. Lots of things come with being bipolar. One thing it doesn't come with though is a handbook for those around you to learn to understand you. Or a handbook on why I may react a certain way. I mean there are those damn medical books that make you think they know all this stuff. Have you ever read one? I feel most of them are full of SHIT. I feel that most of them make it seem like most of us bipolar bears need super medication forever because without it we are out of control!!!!! Or because a doctor thinks he knows a mind so well that he can be an authority on yours specifically even though he has talked to you once. The trying to be simple over complicated deductions about what bipolar is, how to react when we get upset, how to do this and that, what to expect. Perhaps, because stereotypes are there for a reason right? But I would say perhaps not because none of us are alike. Not that alike anyway. I have one book about it that I am slightly okay with and loaned out. But I don't think you can ever explain it. I don't know that you can ever say to someone I think or feel differently in a capacity where they won't look at you like "duh everyone does". When I say I see and feel differently I mean it. Not just as an individual but as something else. 

I am sure people with other mental illnesses can attest to is. We can say all we want we understand what PTSD is, or read a book that says 'what to expect', 'how to deal', 'what to do with a loved one when they have an attack', but I, a person without PTSD, will never know what it is like regardless of how many books or times I try and get it. I won't. Because they see and feel and remember differently than me. They work differently. And to them I work differently. 

I feel it is time to conclude my long novel here. I am not done. But who wants to read this much these days? Barely anyone. I do. But no one is me. So I guess I want to ask for you to help me understand and help me cope, please. 

Lea

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.

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

How The World Turns Out to Be So Different

Let me just say that this post may end up just being me venting about the manic days of my week. Who knows if anyone will find it interesting or at all educational (maybe in the sense that it will show my manic/depressive/hyper nature and how my mind thinks during that time).

I feel so strange. Stranger than I have felt in awhile. The Seroquel is helping; I know because I am not flipping every hour like I am in a psychosis. However, I do not know if my Bipolar has worsened, if that is even possible, or if something is aggravating it. At any rate I am definitely feeling other worldly if that is even comprehensible to you out there.

A few days ago I got that darker side of manic and felt so overwhelmed by sadness that indeed it turned to a depression. Crying watching a movie that is not even sad, thinking back to my earlier days which some I do regret. I get into those bouts where instead of being compulsive about some sort of information I really want to know I compulsively think about my past or what actions I have done that haunt me so on. Some of these actions I know can't be as bad as they play out in my head. For instance, I keep thinking about this dog my ex had given me- a Chihuahua and pug mix I named Hops. She was so rambunctious I had a hard time dealing with her. I never hit her or anything but I would just get so annoyed by the poor little thing. She would go hysterical when I would leave for work, so much so when I came home she somehow managed to get poop on the walls, deep into the carpet and on the furniture. It was like some sort of revenge for leaving to be able to pay bills and buy her damn food. She ended up having worms, and then she started becoming even more needy. I ended up deciding that the best thing to do was to take her to the APL and tell them I found her and that she needs to be put up for adoption. I must confess I did not want a dog at the time and it was my exes last ditch effort to somehow make me forgive him for being an asshole. They took Hops and she turned around and started crying as they walked her back to the vet. That very moment will probably haunt me for life. She had no idea what was going on and why I would abandon her. I just didn't have time to care for her and give her the attention she really wanted and I felt someone else would surely adopt her in no time and hopefully someone with kids that would constantly play with her. I know I did the right thing as I was like 19 and was dealing with mental illness not yet diagnosed. So I have no clue why it haunts me. Of course I feel bad for handing her off, as I had to do with another dog the same ex ended up buying- and he too haunts me- but he would destroy the house while I was gone - I mean like I would go to the store for 5 minutes come home and he would be chewing through the carpet. I had to give him up. You must be noticing that my ex never took the dogs though right. Just left them on the 19 year olds lap to handle. I wasn't ready for commitment like that. I guess I feel bad because I was attached to those dogs but I just couldn't take care of them the way they wanted- by that I mean 24/7 attention. I had to work, I had to go out to the stores, and I had to have some kind of life. But these are things I fixate on sometimes. Or other actions like taking dangerous risks not caring what the outcome might be- like doing disappearing acts while out with friends- hello that was not okay. But beyond that. I mean I would defend my one friend no matter what and she had gotten beat up in this dudes house by some girl and her boyfriend and when she got in my car so distraught of course the rage meter elevated (this is before I knew I was bipolar btw). I was so infuriated I ran up to that house and started kicking the door as hard as possible. I must have had the look of death in my eyes because the second the girl saw me she started crying and freaking out that I was 'going to kill her'- no but I did want to beat her to a pulp. A friend grabbed me from behind and I grabbed the railing kicked him as hard as I could in the shin and as I pulled the railing literally came up out of the cement. So like any typical rage monster that can't get into a house I threw it through the window. Right then I saw the red and blue and knew I had to get it together and get out of there. That girl was lucky that happened.

I told my friend to straighten her hair out and everyone pretend we were at grandmas. The cops (all five unit cars) stopped us and surrounded us. They asked us to get out and had a K-9 unit check my car- which was clean. They tell us there is a disturbance call at a known drug house- this was kind of a surprise to me I don't know that I would have gone so far if I had known it was a 'known drug house'. My friend stood there crying because she was so nervous and my other friend stood there like he was used to it (which I am actually sure he was because as a black American he probably got profiled all the time). I explained I was at my grandmother's house down the street delivering some I don't remember what and said I had no idea what they were talking about. Now this is the thing with bipolar- one minute you are raging out, to the point where you would do anything to get that rage out (me personally not ANYTHING, like I wouldn't kill someone or some crap like that) and the second you need to be not raged out because something is happening BOOM you are absolutely charming and manic so you have this thing about you, like you are narcissistic and think you are the best thing on earth- which is charming to some. The cop was not giving me a hard time at all but he then asked for my ID. I handed him my military ID explaining I didn't have my license on me - not true I did- he looked at it and called all the police off me and let us go. Which is why I lied I knew the second he saw the military ID we would be free to go (this was what a year into the war on terror).

Those aren't the only things I have done that were dumb. I have done plenty risky things. Whether it be speeding, too personal to share here, or starting arguments with people-which I was pretty good at and really should have been more careful. I fixate on all of it. I wonder why I would do those things, put myself in those positions, allow myself to be so careless. It is just something I think that comes with the territory of being Bipolar. No way around it sometimes. I would get paranoid people were staring at me, or talking about me, (in the context it wasn't that unlikely but I was still paranoid) and I would just freak out. I don't think I can explain it in words. But let's get to my last few days .

Yesterday I was just blah. Just like a piece of Jell-O that is warming and becoming weird. I was irritated beyond belief and had a panic attack over not finding a parking space _ really Lea! I got to class and just didn't really care. I was so engulfed in my irritability that I just zoned out for what seemed like several days. Time moved so slow. I got home and was just agitated and frustrated and wanted to be alone. I started reading a book I was excited about and got annoyed it wasn't what I thought it would be. Who know if I will finish it. I then got very upset because someone who will not be named took my blanket from when I was a child (which I compulsively sleep with) and put it in a nasty hamper so I was unable to sleep with it. You should have seen my reaction. I was super pissed I hate HATE when people touch certain things and then put it in a hamper and then don't clean it- well that is ridiculous to me because it is clearly something that is my sleep aide since it is everywhere I sleep at. It feels like a betrayal or like a cruel prank. DON"T TOUCH MY STUFF is what I kept saying to my husband, who was not the culprit. I am very meticulous about this kind of stuff. I was infuriated over a bonified baby blanket smelling like dirty socks because someone decided they needed to wash it and then didn't wash it. That was rude to me and an intrusion of my personal space. I don't care if I live in the same house as someone don't touch my things like that. Fine we do each others laundry -clothes and what notes- but don't touch that stuff on my bed. Don't touch things I put in specific places or I will be super heated, don't ignore something that needs attention bc that will anger me, and so many other things. No matter how many times I try to explain these things it seems some people don't hear me. I have friends that definitely don't. I have a mental illness, and I have compulsions and obsessions, and I have serious anxiety. If you consistently mess with my stuff  I will freak the fuck out like I did last night. I'm sure my husband was like oh geez here we go but to me it is an invasion on my personal way of living. I don't like it. 

I just don't think some people get what a mental illness entails and how easily I can be set off into a new mood. I put something in a specific area for a reason, you move it, I flip out alone and move it back, you move it again, I move it back--- why do you not see that I want it where I want it as it is my stuff so stop it. This has happened so many times and I get more angry each new time this occurs. JUST STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF> I don't touch yours .

Maybe I am being crazy to you but it's part of me.


Next day. I wake up today and I am in pain from the back, hip, and nerve issues and I feel even more untested because I did not have that silly blanket. The only reason I slept without it at all was because of my meds. If I hadn't had them I would have been awake all night and would have waited for the dryer to be done.  Any way, I procrastinate going to school because to be honest I feel too exhausted to want to go because of my hyper and anger episodes and today I just feel uppity and exhausted all at once. I have no rose colored glasses today, everything is very vivid and disturbingly detailed and I hate it. I am annoyed. I am angry. I am hyper, I am sad, and I am AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. That's what it feels like. My anxiety is through the roof so much so that while driving I had to take another Klonopin. And that annoyed me because the doctor only gave me 30 .5mg and guess what that doesn't really help when some panic attacks are worse than others and I need more than 1 .5mg pill. So 30 a month won't cut it at the rate this anxiety storm is at. It's either give me a higher dose so I can deal with the panic, or give me 60. I don't think some doctors realize that some people really do have panic attacks or bouts of bad anxiety daily that makes them want to puke everywhere or just die. Sorry it doesn't make sense to you but you can follow me around for a few days if you don't believe me. And then they say 'use it sparingly and only when needed' like yeah use it sparingly because you are under-treating me. HELP ME don't make me annoyed and scroll into a super manic mode because the anxiety triggers it.

Then today driving to school nothing looks real- or maybe nothing looks as it should or how I am used to and it isn't just the layer of snow that just fell. I am noticing things and details that I did NOT notice any other time- so for months these things have been unseen to me and now all the sudden boom here they are making things feel so unfamiliar. Guess what happens then? Oh yes I feel completely disoriented, like I am not a part of reality and I panic. What else is new. Sorry got to go to class.

To Be Continued.....

Lea

The Stigma

Often times those who have mental illnesses are stigmatized. Even those with physical disabilities are often stigmatized. It is not fair, it does not feel good, and it certainly is not right. With mental illness people cannot physically see what is wrong so it becomes almost a joke to some people because if they cannot see it it just is not real to them. I have said this in previous posts that people will ask if bipolar disorder or anxiety disorder is even a real thing. To those that suffer from those issues it is more real than a lot of things. Everything can become broken in seconds for you. The oppression from anxiety is so overwhelming that sometimes during a panic attack the thought of death seems more satisfying. When you are going through a panic attack you are overtaken by irrational ideas/ thoughts that at a better moment you know are not reasonable. When you have compulsions people do not understand why; they simply think you are some weirdo. There is a lot of stigma behind OCD because most of the time people think of persons who are germ-o--phoebes or clean freaks, and other times they think you have some irrational idea behind your compulsions (I admit I thought that for the longest time until I was told I had compulsions). I have a compulsion that drives me to constantly look over websites on certain information I hear about, or read twenty different articles about one topic because I feel the need to know it, actually know it and that means looking at things repeatedly.
Bipolar disorder has been so mislabeled by some movies that there is just a huge stereotype on what being bipolar actually means. I once watched that ridiculous movie "running with scissors" (I believe that was the name of it), and it was quite wrong. It was almost insulting. I am sure there are people out there that were represented by that movie, but speaking as someone who has severe bipolar disorder with rapid cycling episodes I can tell you that that movie did not do what I go through justice. Shoot I sometimes have a hard time explaining what I go through.

I bring all this up because today in my book club we discussed the book "Metamorphosis" and most people felt that Gregor turning into a 'vermin' was an analogy for mental illness. Indeed the author did deal with insomnia and his father abusing him so this was obviously a source for his book. This book never explains why Gregor turned into an insect, nor what it was really supposed to represent. There was only one person in the class that associated the change as just how life goes, you change day to day. It made me realize that depending on life circumstances you may view this book differently. As someone dealing with mental illness and having felt the stigma I genuinely believe the metamorphosis represented that. It did not need to tell me why he just morphed into a new creature, I already knew. When I first started becoming angry, and then angrier, and then depressed and then more depressed, I could recognize I was changing in behavior and mental thoughts, but I did not full out come out and say 'Oh god I am becoming some raging monster' and when my panic attacks started I realized that something was off but I didn't know really what. Again I did not come out going 'Oh my god I am becoming hysterical for no reason'. I just dealt with it and went on living how I lived but adjustments due to my changing mind were made quietly and I did not have any need to stop and really analyze it until I became older and it affected me more. But it still wasn't a dead stop in the road revelation about me being mentally ill. In the book Gregory recognizes he has transformed but doesn't care he just wants to go to work. He doesn't think him taking shape as a 'vermin' will impede him in anyway, he can go on being a traveling salesman. That's how most of us feel I am sure. We just feel OK I am different or I have some issues but I am just going to keep on keeping on.

However, as the book progresses you realize that his sister, who could not even look at him even when she was trying to take care of him in his new form, started to feel he was just a burden, and so did his parents. Before he was treated well but before he was also the bread winner. Now they had to do all the work--- Gee Gregor what were you thinking! His father even throws apples at him and impales his back so badly that it causes him some paralysis. No one ever took the apple out of his back and this apple stayed there for months. Hmmm metaphor for stabbing a person in the back? Perhaps. In the end his sister and parents say  that they just cannot take him anymore, he is just a burden, and they have to get rid of him. They had wished he would just understand that and leave on his own accord.

I am not saying all families are like this or even that most are I am just trying to point out that those with issues, especially issues that affect one's daily like and prevent them from doing what they'd like or what they need to do (work, go to school etch.), make people look at you differently. I had a conversation with a girl once, no names given for this, and she believed that most of the people on disability and welfare and food stamps were just lazy people. This is a stigma that runs hot in the United States. There is a HUGE debate on whether our welfare systems are good, or if they just let the 'lazy be lazy'. Now this absolutely disgusts me when people say this kind of stuff. I would like to say that many of those people probably have a mental illness or physical disability that makes them unable to work or to live a normal life. Yes there are always people who abuse the system, that is not a new concept, and yes many people who use welfare systems are not disabled but strictly need help in a time of need. But to just outright denounce all of the people on a welfare system meant to help people establish themselves in a country that is super capitalistic is just ignorant and distasteful.

Most of our homeless here in the US are mentally ill, and they cannot get proper health care so they do self medicate. Or they get the meds that are so sedating they no longer feel anything and so they of course go out and find a way to feel something. Now a lot of these people could be severely mentally ill and no one who think those people are lazy would notice the daily struggle of those people. I hate the arguments like "well I did it all on my own, got a loan and blah blah" or 'well I worked three jobs and managed just barely to stay afloat without using any government help". Okay well that's good for you but that's not how life works for other people. Before I was treated and diagnosed I had a very bad habit of quitting jobs. I couldn't take them or they would bother me or make me depressed and I would just quit. See ya later. Even with school sometimes I need to take a day off of classes because I am having a hard time dealing that day. That doesn't make me lazy, nor does it make me a person that uses others. It makes me someone that is mentally ill and struggling. If you were poor and able to keep afloat working minimum wage jobs without the use of government help well good for you, but it's okay to ask for help, that is why those systems were built. I think pride is one of the reasons many actually don't take advantage of systems that help you get assistance, or free health coverage, or whatever. But all those kinds of sayings put a stigma on the homeless man sitting in front of the gas station who does not know what is really happening, or does but doesn't know how to fix it because his mind works differently. It puts a stigma on people like me, someone who is pretty productive but has serious lapses in her mental well-being, and that yes will use assistance and free health benefits because I literally cannot work three jobs mentally or physically, nor can I deal with not having medical treatment.

When people hear me speak so adamantly about mental illness some get sick of it, or don't care, or think it is ridiculous, and others actually take something away from it. I speak allowed because I am sick of being treated like I am less than. Doctors have been known to speak in a way that makes me think they believe I am incompetent or have the intelligence of a 15 year old. No not any doctor I see now but there was one in particular and I ended up cussing him out and storming out. People have heard I am mentally ill, or even very close people has used it to try and attack me. Being looked at like you are 'dumb' because you deal with something so exhausting and daunting is quite frustrating. And more people need to learn how to cope themselves with having a child that is mentally ill, a wife or husband that is mentally ill (or has a break and becomes severely mentally ill), and general people need to have more awareness about what we go through. Our day is not like your day- we think differently, react differently, analyze differently, become affected by words and acts differently. My view on life is much different than those I know who are not dealing with mental disorders. My outlook can be very dark sometimes but other times it is more like an obstacle course that I am planning. I get overwhelmed easily but I use it to teach me. I can become very frustrated and agitated but it's not something I intentionally do. I become stricken with panic and start flipping out but I don't need anyone pointing or staring or making fun of me, I need someone to comfort me and tell me it's okay. A simple hug that gives a person security during a panic attack goes a long way. I am not less than just because my brain is different than yours. My intelligence may even be much higher than yours so that stigma is just a sad way to say I don't know anything about mental illness so instead of asking what that means I make fun of you or get scared by it, or sickened by it because 'you're different'.

I am bringing this all up because it hurts. Today I felt a ping of it and it felt that me even saying I deal with bipolar disorder made some people feel uncomfortable. Is it that big of a deal? You don't have to deal with me being bipolar, and you certainly don't need to feel uncomfortable that I am open about my issues. I am a person just like you. I am a very open person that feels hiding behind a mask will no longer suffice and introducing myself to the world as I really am is much more appropriate and freeing. For the longest time only a few people knew I had panic attacks, and even fewer knew I was bipolar, unless someone else told other people. I don't know that I was embarrassed but I know at one point I did not want to believe it. I saw my uncle struggle with mental illness and I didn't want to become that way. Not knowing what was real, and feeling disoriented. I eventually came to realize that my mental illness is different than his and while I may still endure some things that he did, my experience will be different. I do in fact deal with bouts of feeling disconnected and disoriented from the world. But rather than letting it scare me like I was I have come to find a way to cope. I let it happen and take everything in as a dream, or as an observer watching myself. It can still be frightening and it is due to my extreme anxiety but it is part of who I am. I am no longer scared of how this will turn out as I age. If I start to become paranoid, or hear things or see things that aren't there well I will just deal with it. I will go on living just as Gregor did. Even if the closes treat me like a burden (which I cannot believe they ever would) I would just keep going, doing what I could and making it matter to me. I have come to the conclusion that there are some things you just can't change and those things make you who you are; they can either make you into a spectacular, unique, mindful, and creatively articulate person, or can leave you in a state of mind that is not particularly nice, that makes you feel like you are drowning beneath your mind, and no matter what your abilities are becoming oppressed. By accepting yourself you can use the different way your mind works for new purposes. Creatively writing about your experiences, blogging, using it to make beautiful art, to write wonderful philosophy, to capture photos of things most don't spot, or simply becoming a very compassionate and kind person. Do not let anything stigmatize you. A person who discriminates or tries to make you feel uncomfortable for who you are, or stigmatizes mental illness is a person who lacks understanding, and knowledge.

Thank you for reading my vent of the day. Another novel I know. Please feel free to comment and add your stories.

Lea Silva