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

Alone in a world full of people

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


Lea

Get free from Insecurity-Dissolution from neglect

Unfortunately most time when you are breaking up with someone or divorcing someone rumors are spread and usually by the guilty party. I heard my soon to be ex-husband told his friends I cheated, which is the furthest thing from the truth! His friend ran into my eldest sister and said oh I heard she fooled around behind his back, so of course my loving sister set him straight and his friend said that it makes more sense that Nathan would cheat on me! That's his friend saying this so clearly we know my ex has a bad reputation. You know when we first started dating I heard he had a wondering eye and was a player but he had me fooled. I honestly believe that sometimes when you are not medicated you can't see through the BS. Also we got pregnant by accident two months into our relationship and lost the baby so of course we bonded. However, I feel after the second lost pregnancy he changed and became that guy I didn't know. He became more distant and was never on the same page.

I know that I never loved him like an in-love wife should after we were married and we lost that pregnancy and he started acting distant. I couldn't. I felt abandoned in a rough situation. You know we always want to seem like an angel in our past relationships but I am not going to lie. I had my break downs as a mentally ill person were I would get really really angry and we would fight. I don't and never will deny that. I really cannot control it like most non mentally ill people think. I cycle rapidly and sometimes my mind goes to distant places and turns on me. Yet he knew I was mentally ill and took vows that he would be there through it all. I had wished that we would have waited to get married after he started being more and more distant. We would have our days where it seemed like he was who I first met but then it would change back to the distancing. It made me very insecure. Before I found out the bad news on May 6th this year we hadn't had sex in two months. Now I know it's because he had found something else (someone else) to play with. I had asked if he was seeing someone else and he lied to me. I don't miss him much to be honest because he felt like a roommate more than a husband. He put a status up blaming me for his weight gain, stress, gray hairs, and high blood pressure. I am not the cause of those things. He sat for hours upon hours playing video games and snacking on bad food and once when I told him that he wasn't eating great he of course wanted to deny it, and then blamed it on me for making meals that made him fat. You know I ate it and didn't gain much weight over the last two years (I gained 5 pounds from being injured and from pregnancies) but I portioned my food I cannot help if he ate badly that is his choice not mine. I didn't make him sit on his ass all day and play video games I actually tried encouraging him to do other things or to take me out to have fun and he was always negative about it.

We would get in arguments because I felt extremely neglected because most of his extra time went to playing video games. Now I know why. He didn't care to have me anymore so instead of being a husband he distanced himself and become what he was. A person that took no responsibility for what was happening to him, clearly since he blasted to the world it was my fault. He also blamed his mom because she would by snacks that weren't healthy. She never forced it down his throat he just ate it. He stopped working out because of bad acid reflux and that is not my fault. If he was stressed it was because HE was unhappy and didn't have the courage to just tell me that he didn't want to be married anymore. I knew the last few months he didn't because of the way he was acting and talking to me. He made me feel like I didn't matter anymore and only his problems were important. I showed I cared when he was not feeling well. I bought things to try to help him feel better, or help him study better for his tests and it seems to have gone unnoticed. As for his gray hair, I didn't make that happen. He was clearly unhappy and didn't take his vows seriously, messed around behind my back, and kept HIMSELF in a relationship he didn't want to commit to plus HE was having trouble in school not me. So any of those things could cause him stress.

Yes we started arguing a lot the last several months of our relationship because it felt like he was not there nor did he care. I am very emotional at points in time and it hurt me to be not worth his time when he was married to me and he made that choice. The only reason I was kind or kept trying to work on things was because I had integrity and had known I had made vows even though I wished I hadn't when I realized our marriage was only because of a short lived bond over a pregnancy. My mom has the theory that my lack of ability to carry pregnancies become unattractive and that is one of the reasons he had no want for me anymore. That's fine. I don't want to be with someone who cannot accept who I am. I did a lot. I did my duties as a roommate and wife. I paid for a lot. We did not go on many dates and sometimes when we did it would just be Dutch (which was a lot).

I guess I am hurt because I feel that while I still tried to be a good person, even if I did have flaws, he didn't care and made that clear and is not airing dirty laundry that is very personal and shouldn't be told to the whole world. If I didn't already get disrespected enough by him being dishonest, and being neglectful during our marriage I now get disrespected by him telling lies. You know how about you just say it didn't work out and we weren't happy if you cannot man up for what you did. I feel insecure because I felt worthless in that relationship. Some blame should be on me for not being completely honest about how unhappy I was and how I really didn't want to keep that marriage because it wasn't healthy nor happy. I guess I felt that if I did that I failed somehow but now I know that it wouldn't have been that. It would have been me standing up for what I wanted and deserved. I don't deserve to stay in a neglectful unhappy marriage where my husband feels like a roommate and has become some self absorbed stranger who cared overtly more about anything having to do with him than with me.

I feel that he is incapable of really taking responsibility for much of his actions. He chose not to ride, workout, be in the marriage, be honest, get off the video games, respect me as a person he at least once kind of loved and as someone who wanted something else. I feel he had manipulated me in the past which started arguments with my mom and sister and I was not medicated and became vulnerable because I would be paranoid or easily made to feel everyone was against me. I truly believe he took advantage of that and knew what he was doing. He would have conversations with me and make me feel like I was always the one that was doing something wrong by being mentally ill, and the things he would say about me not working out were not okay. He wouldn't take the time to understand how serious my hip issue was and kept on about how I needed to workout. I have a feeling he wanted me to be much thinner and that's the only reason he said that kind of stuff. You don't tell people things like that when they are very injured, can't help it, and feel a lot of pain with too much exercise or walking and I have a hard time figuring out how much is too much and what is a trigger for my hip. My back is all sorts of messed up and he has no clue about that either. No one will truly understand what I feel everyday. It is extremely uncomfortable and painful. I found out that my hip has a tear because I was born with dysplasia of the hip- the femoral neck has a rigid and straight neck to the femoral head which causes pain, tenderness, tendonitis, inflamed bursitis, and will cause tears to happen. I also have a shallow socket which explains why my hip easily slides out of socket. Now who would really tell someone in that situation the pain is all in your head, or you need to learn to just deal with it, and you need to workout way more even though I have serious limitations now. It just gets worse (my hip and back). I will need a major surgery that will reshape my bone and fix tears in my hip and clear out debris. Yet he wanted me to be overly concerned about his acid reflux and hiatal hernia which honestly can be taken care of with the right medicine. I cared that he was feeling pain from it, but I get acid reflux from my meds and I don't make a big deal about it. I don't make a big deal about my hip and whine all day and I put up with a lot of not caring and being 'over it' from him. He used to help me up, he used to give me his arm so I could sit up and he stopped doing that awhile ago. Sometimes he would push me up by the butt but that actually hurt my hip but he would have no idea since he didn't understand where my pain was or anything about it.

I guess I need to get this all out because I am aggregated not just at him but at myself. How dare I let myself deal with that BS. I should have stood up and said this is not okay, we are not okay, you are unwilling to work on things, you cannot stand me arguing because I want affection, this is no longer a marriage but a living around each other situation where I feel under appreciated for all I have done. I should have spoke the truth a long time ago about something I have now spoke up about to someone, but I didn't. I don't think right when I am going through episodes and depression, and I can thank Nathan for making me go get help when all I wished for was death, and a want to have died with my baby. But we were not good. He was never the one I should have married. He was never THE ONE. He was never someone I was deeply in love with because he was not and is not the love of my life. He just isn't. He can't be. We did have a bond after that first pregnancy but that shouldn't have led me to marry him but it did. I felt a lot of pain mentally and physically and I don't know if I thought that marriage was a good way to get through it, or that it would all work out but I should have known. When we were coming up to the wedding date I kept feeling if we hadn't gotten pregnant we wouldn't have lasted. I should have been honest with myself and others a long time ago and I am woman-ing up and saying that that was my mistake.

Further, I have felt so worthless because of how he didn't want to give me affection, respect, love, or really understanding. I have felt so down about myself because of certain things he had said, things he didn't do, and things he just didn't want to do, making it a chore to touch me, getting irritated and saying he hated that I would bother him to rub my back when he only wanted to caress my back for a minute (who says that?), that now it is taking me some time to feel like myself again. I felt that I was inhibited and didn't act like who I am at the core anymore because I felt so worthless. It felt like him not caring meant that I didn't have any value to him. Him getting so mad over me getting upset at how much time he spent sitting in that dang chair playing those games while I was going through some serious shit showed me what meant more to him- himself and his wants. Now it is easy to say goodbye. It is easy to accept this divorce. It is getting easy to accept love that feels so foreign to me, friends taking me out to feel special, my family showing they have my back and supporting me, and all the appreciation I have for it shows how little I was feeling it for the last year and a half. I shouldn't have dealt with that. It's not all on him I should have been honest and told him I didn't want it anymore but I was too proud because I had made those damn vows and didn't want to feel a loss in integrity. But that's just me. I am that kind of person. I stay true to my word. I am kind. I am beautiful even if I am five pounds heavier, I am extremely intelligent and cannot be fooled by dumb lies and while I had been underappreciated and manipulated now I am becoming empowered again. I feel insecure at times but now thanks to all his neglect and dislike and feeling of me not being worth much I feel like I know what I want and it ain't him. It never was. He made it easy to let go. But I am rebuilding myself one step at a time. I will prosper. And Karma will be in my favor.

Thanks for reading my novel.

Lea

Divorce of a Bipolar Wife

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lea

The Untamed Brain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lea Silva

Split of the Mind, Death of the Day

Yes my title here is gloomy. That's because I am gloomy. While I am very capable of letting this NOT show, inside it makes it worse. At least I think so. I think a big problem may be that I am only on Seroquel to combat my illness ATM and do not see the psychiatrist until next Friday-which feels like eternity! Oh how long the days will pass while I sit here freaking out and feeling awful while she sits guiding patients not knowing how bad the ones who have to wait feel. I do not think this is her fault it is the systems fault. I may just try and find a local mental health facility to get in somewhere sooner and tell them I am NOT okay in the slightest bit.


I have no clue what this is inside me. It's like my soul devoured itself-well I use the word soul here because I think it best describes the 'inner me'. I saw my older sister today and probably rapidly spoke because I just wanted to be focused on all other things happening than what is happening inside me. I know I rapidly spoke because my mouth became dry and you know you just can't stop the ramble. Sometimes I think people probably assume I am on some speedy drug because I speak so fast sometimes but ask any bipolar person and they will tell you that manic time is ramble time. Thoughts and thoughts and thoughts and thoughts come rolling through and then sometimes you get stuck not remembering a word which makes it all the worse because your mind is still rambling but the words are not coming.

This post I am sure will be all over the place but I don't really care because I just need to let my brain speak. So many neurons and receptors and chemicals are haywire and it is not pleasant for me. It feels like I am some bystander looking down at myself thinking I have zero control over that person today. My thoughts go deep and dark and into spaces they probably should not wonder to. Thinking like I am alone, and indeed today I feel like I am in solitary confinement even around another human. Why? Well for starters because that person is not in my mind getting what is rushing through me, second I have to type to a computer to feel I am interacting properly. At least here I can monitor what I am saying, and third my poor husband has so many exams this week that he is wrapped up in his studies as he should be. But this leaves me standing still in a corner like I am punishing myself. NO I am not mad at my husband, or my family, or anyone else close just because they are busy. This is my mental illness and this is just another episode of 'Mrs. Manic Lea'- what else is new. It's a constant game with myself to control my thoughts and my actions.
My anxiety is no joke today. It feels that my GABA is down and anxiety is sky rocketing but again what else is new. I have class today and no I do not want to go because I feel so fucking miserable. My computer here is pissing me off by 'correcting' my words when really it is 'incorrect-ing' them. Ah sorry displaced thought. Any way- I am sitting here wondering what it means to be dead and what is it that is so scary about death

I think people fear it because they cling to their lives even if it is super horrible because they are too scared to know what happens when you die. You are frightened by a concept that there is absolutely NOTHING when you die. That you have no actual soul and so you are just put into a sleep that is everlasting and without dreams. No chance to wake back up. Is that so discerning to validate a clinging to life or making physician assisted suicide for the terminally ill illegal. I do not think so. Think of all the stupid, awful, un-beautiful things that happen daily, and then enjoy the wonderful things and then realize that those things have still happened regardless of if you died. What if there is no God- would it really be that far fetched to think there is no God? I doubt it. A all powerful, all merciful, all knowing so on being who is so perfect yet needs you to worship him (um hello needy much) and requires you not to sin (well since we are made as pleasure animals why even bother we are totally going to sin, especially if you have certain mental illness). I am not bashing anyone that believes in a God, I personally believe in some type of creator just not the standard Abrahamic kind. But think- if God were to be real, and he were to be all-knowing then he would know if you were going to kill yourself, get physician assisted suicide, wait until nature takes its course, or whatever, and you would have no power to decide your destiny anyway. So if you do believe in a God than death should not be such an awful thing and people should be allowed to control it. Look I just wrote a paper on Physician assisted Suicide and there are always the 'sanctity of human life' arguments that are automatically thrown out the window because there is no proof of that that is just your own thought that makes you feel special, and there is always the slippery slope argument that if you allow a doctor to help a patient who is terminally ill (and who will lose function and soil themselves and be in no way capable of taking care of themselves) that it will turn into some all out party for doctors to kill the "unwanted" which in essence by the opposition means the mentally handicapped, the elderly that are 'burdensome' and those with mental illnesses like severe bipolar or schizophrenia or whatever. Now this seems to me that the opposition is making some very judgmental claims on who would be the 'unwanted'. For me none of the above listed would be desirable to get rid of except the asshole who said all those people were undesirable. Dick. Anyway I digress. My point was to say that people want to control others' deaths because they are scared of what death actually means. Well I'm sorry but just because you have some fear does not give you some right to control everyone else's choices who are more scared of dying as a crippled vegetable that cannot think or take care of themselves. I'm sorry I would prefer death to that also.

I get like this where I think about all circumstances surrounding death. Do I want anyone to commit suicide? No. I do not want anyone to feel that low, that alone, that helpless as to want to end it all. I know that things can be very difficult. I know what it feels like to feel alone in a situation where you are going haywire and nothing quite makes sense anymore. Nothing. And on top of that you feel so miserable because you are going up and down like a roller coaster on steroids and no one seems to get it. You try and reach out and get someone to realize your are in immense pain and no one notices what you are trying to warn them about-your suicide or your thoughts of suicide. In Today's world people are so engulfed in their own 'issues' they do not realize they are completely ignoring their families or their friends' 'issues'. It sometimes feels like a competition doesn't it? You finally reach out for help and tell someone I am feeling so f**king depressed that I don't care if I die, and they then say 'OMG I have been feeling really crappy too because like my boss is being a total jerk 'ETC. and you know exactly what I am referring to don't you? Like they need to one up your issue with some mundane BS that does not matter. Or there is always that person who tries to one up your illness. "I feel manic and I am becoming so depressed all I see is darkness" other person competitively says "Yea well I have been sitting in that darkness for a year" or "I have a family of 3 I take care of and I am super stressed from working three jobs, and I am a single mom/dad and you don't even know how hard that is so just think you have it easy compared to me". I hate that one the worst because yes raising kids is hard, yes working numerous jobs at once is hard, and I GET IT OKAY but I would like to say someone without a severe mental illness cannot comprehend that it is not something we need to 'suck up and get over', and it is not something that should be competed with or thought of as 'just in their heads'. These people just want you to feel bad for them and martyr them and guess what it ain't happening. You chose your life of kids, maybe not being a single mom/dad but you knew what was gonna happen if you had unprotected sex and etc. Those of us with severe mental illness had NO FUCKING CHOICE. It's not like we were young and in love and made the mistake of having a baby at 19 or something, or were married and had five kids and then found out our husband wanted to leave us. We were simply born with a mental issue. A biochemical / neurochemical problem that led us to a degree of - anger, hostility, hallucinations, panic and anxiety, darkness not many beyond the mentally ill experience, paranoia, severe mood swings that exhaust you and the brain, depression that is not unipolar but bipolar and is horrendous, RAGE that is so uncontrollable, the strangest actions for some unknown irrational reason, and the list grows longer. If you experience all those things that come with mental illness and then put on top of that physical illness, overwhelming scenarios be it work or family, deaths of those close to you, or just bad happenings it makes life feel 109374982749837298472398473 times more difficult. It isn't a joke. It isn't something you can hope or wish away. Shit even medicine can't always help us. Sometimes we just spiral down the 'death slide'. Imagine you have your family of irk 4, and yes you are the bread winner, you have now had a mental illness break -one that is there for a life time- and you still have to find the energy to deal with the family who for some unknown reason can now easily make you hostile, irritated, or Raged out, and you go to your job(s) and all the sudden the work becomes 10 times harder because you just do NOT care at all for some reason and start hating it, even if you loved it at first, and then start getting dark devilish thoughts that won't leave you. How easy is that for you, don't you wish life was back to normal. So unless you want me to point out that if we are going to compete how disgustingly disturbing your life could be if you had severe mental illness, listen to me. Listen to your family members when they try and reach out. Listen to them when they tell you they are not in a good spot mentally because if you don't or if you brush it off like "Well just think it could be worse" that you may never get to talk to them again because they decide well no one cares even when I finally reach out, no one gives a shot about me, and I have no where to turn and my brain is killing me slowly- and then they slice their wrist or hang themselves or whatever.

When it comes to mental illness people just don't always get it and that can be damaging. This is why I write this blog because I want people to know. They need to know. Mental illness is not a joke. As I read about Unipolar depression (the common variety depression the average Joe gets without any other mental illnesses) and then I really research bipolar manic depression it becomes clear that there are a lot of people who think it is the same thing and an easy fix is an anti-depressant. Here's a NEW FLASH- Those with sever Bipolar Disorder who take a anti-depressant usually used for unipolar depression can become worse off! I have dealt with this first hand several times. Even knowing I was Bipolar there have been doctors that started an anti-depressant because I was feeling like I didn't care if I died and those meds spiraled me into a whole new gloomy horrifying place where I snapped at every instances, cried with rage each day and was literally on the edge of the cliff. Severe mental illness is not something to be taken lightly, to be put aside or to be considered anywhere near the 'average' life, or even a somewhat difficult life. Why? Because our brains work in the wrong way- in the sense that instead of keeping us stable, rational, calm, and collected managing our stressors and dealing with things that aren't always pleasant, we instead grow restless, HOSTILE, dangerous, Deeply and severely depressed, and don't care like we should.

Now while our brains work in ways that it probably shouldn't I can say this- Bipolar Disorder has a way of making people beautifully creative. Wonderfully observant of the small things that normally go unnoticed, and can become extremely passionate. The downfall for me has been I quit jobs with no real reason other than I just don't like it anymore, or I can't work there because I am sick of it so on, and I walk out or do no call no shows. I have had a lot of jobs in my short life. I have also been extremely into going to do this or that and then never do it. I have done stupid things that other Bipolar persons know what I am talking about, I have done damage to myself by acting so ridiculously reckless when I was younger, and I have really just done things that the average un-impulsive person wouldn't do. I work on impulses a lot of the time. It is the wonderful world of spontaneity- no it is the awful world of impulse domination were my impulses to do whatever I well please, or whatever I want to buy, or whatever I want to ignore or whatever, and it is a staggering wall in my life. It is so stupid to just let yourself do that and there is no off switch you just do it. Then your feel immense guilt beyond what any other person would feel (just like my ridiculous amount of guilt from my post yesterday about taking a dog to the pound). IT'S AWFUL.

Worse then is that you fixate. Become Depressed. Start thinking bad thoughts. Delve deep into the question of death. And that is NOT a good place to be. I know. You think well I really wonder what it could possibly be. Like it's some sort of distorted surprise we all just want to know about. That's dangerous thinking. You start to wonder if your energy goes elsewhere and if you will be 'conscious' for it, and whether it would be better. Then you wonder if it is just a stop to everything and nothing. Is it bliss or is it nothing. Either way it does not seem that bad. These thoughts need to be handled carefully. If there is no one there the person may just OD on their meds, or take their life in other ways. That is why I wish there were actual emergency psychiatrists or something. Not those sick prison like psych wards that make you feel even crazier. Those are NOT good. Those don't help. Those just sedate you and leave you thinking geez even the system doesn't give a crap about me because if my insurance hadn't covered this I wouldn't even be here or these people pump you with meds and leave you to stagger around the ward wondering if this is better than death. So what do we do then? I just tranquilize myself sometimes, or I start typing and don't stop for a long time. Like I am doing right now. No I am not for the 'sanctity of life' bs but I do feel that everyone has a right to their life, and a right to that life being at least interesting and at least somewhat stable. The mentally ill still deserve a chance to enjoy what they can when they can instead of letting it defeat them and off they go. I want all people's to feel that something special is inside them and that even if almost every lingering day you feel lost among the darkness you may still see or experience something beautiful that made it worth it. Love is something that helps me hold on. The fact that I can see things in a different perspective makes me happy I have a life. And while yes I have my moments where I refuse to get off the couch and do something because I just want to die, I live through it in hopes that I will get to keep loving and seeing things that are just wonderful. I don't know where this is really going so I think I will end it here. I hope I did some good with this. Share it and pass it on and make people aware of what is happening. PLEASE.

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

Insider's Perspective Part Two

I left off my conversation in the last post on how I had to endure a second ectopic pregnancy, and how two months prior I took myself of my meds. The second pregnancy was not as far along as the first, and I had high hopes for this pregnancy. Although I had been spotting but I didn't think much of it. When I went to the ob/gyn I found out my numbers were really low, my hcg was at 90.Because I am high risk they checked my levels every other day because they should double. Well they never did double, they just stayed at 90. We though I may be miscarrying because of the bleeding (remember the first time I had bled internally) but the day my next appointment was to see the doctor I started to feel very ill, faint, started to feel very bad cramping, and the memory of the first pregnancy was haunting me. I waited for the appointment rather than going to the ER which worked out well because my doctor did an ultrasound and found the pregnancy right at the end of my tube by the ovary. He told me to go to the ER right away and he would be there shortly to do the surgery. This time my tube was salvageable. He made sure to clear out any scare tissue and a few months later he pushed dye through the tube and since it passed through it means I still have at least some possibility to get pregnant.

Losing this pregnancy sent me into another deep manic episode. This time it wasn't nearly as bad, probably because I had endured this loss before but it made me feel helpless like I will never be able to have kids on my own without some scientific technology to help, or without adoption.

Now many people would recommend a surrogate who could carry my egg fertilized by my husband's sperm but I absolutely refuse to do that. This is probably my bipolar, and ocd side coming out. If I even think about another woman being able to carry my baby to full term it ignites an anger and sadness in me that I don't normally encounter. Just typing it is making me agitated. So why is that, what is going through my mind? Well I feel that a strong amount of jealousy would wash over me because this person can actually carry pregnancies and feel MY baby growing and moving. I would feel deep resentment towards that person because they got to feel the baby, feel it hiccup, kick, roll, and so forth and I would sit on the side lines wishing I knew what it felt like to have my baby inside me, not her. Maybe that seems selfish or ridiculous because it is a very good option for those who cannot get pregnant but to me I know I would be whirling down the dark staircase.  I would despise the world, and my body and not find any enjoyment because of it. That is simply the way my brain works. Plus I would be even more angered if I got the crazy person that believed since they carried MY EGG and my husbands sperm that it is somehow still also her child. You know why people feel that way even though it isn't there biological child? Because they bonded with the baby through the pregnancy, and thus is why I cannot bear to think about it. I wouldn't get that bond someone else would. Weirdly adoption I would encourage more because while it may not be my biological child it is a child I want and I want to love, a child who was abandoned or given up because the mother knew it be better off. Yes someone still got to feel the pregnancy but I didn't have to sit by and watch it, and it wasn't my egg and sperm that I couldn't carry, it would be a baby that needed a loving home that was already created. There are so many babies that need homes that adopting, rather than using a surrogate, seems much more harmonious with how I deal with things mentally.

Back to the main point- Last summer is when I lost the second pregnancy, and this time video games were not really there to help. I certainly read a lot, and wrote a lot in journals scattered here and there, but I mostly laid on the couch not wanting to do a damn thing. I was so depressed again and I didn't want to have to talk to people about it, or really acknowledge or deal with it. I would snap at little things, small comments made that were meant to be jokes I took deadly serious. It was awful. Sometimes I would just sit and cry, and while it was partly due to losing the pregnancy it was also partly due to the fear of others dying because of all the people I had lost over the last couple years, and then partly because I didn't know how to cope with my mental illness but wasn't willing to admit it. That same year, on January 3,2013 my uncle Ron, who was like a dad to me and had always been there, had died in front of our house, in his car, due to a heart attack. So over the summer I obsessed a bit over the concept of death and what life actually meant.

It made me so curious about what death actually is and how much someone, even my fetuses, felt pain when they died. Did they realize what was happening, at least instinctually? Does their energy just disburse or is it more than that? I know scientifically matter just re-disburses so we could have some of President Washington's atoms inside us, but I think the question of whether something happens to you at death or not is always on a person's mind when someone close dies, even if they say they are atheist I am sure they still sometimes wonder if they are wrong, or if science just hasn't realized what takes place.

These kinds of thoughts running through your mind all the time drag you down into a lethargic, haunting place. It really is quite hard to get back up the ladder, and even harder to deal with little annoyances. I do not know how many times I was super snippy and short during telephone calls or regular conversations. I just didn't want to talk to very many people. I felt left alone by everyone except my husband Nathan. Yea my best friend would try and get me to hangout but I felt like everyone forgot that I was still trying to cope with life. It's like this- If something bad happens to you, and let's assume you are NOT mentally ill, it takes some time to cope but you move one. If something bad happens to me it drowns my brain in depression, anger, grief, annoyance, and very little happiness or enjoyment. Then think of those around you- sure they recognize something bad has happened to you and may even realize that you have a hard time coping due to mental illness but after a couple days, maybe a week or two, they don't think about it much, if at all, anymore. They coped faster because it didn't happen to them, or did not affect them like it does for the mentally ill. This is very aggregating because they forget that you may still be fragile about certain subjects, or make jokes that aren't very funny to you because somehow they remind you of how awful things have been, the dark cloud around you, or the bad event(s) that have happened. Worse still they may also make you feel guilt or bad because you are more distant or don't want to talk for long periods of time, or because you can be very irritable, but guess what? That's just how it is with bipolar people sometimes. You may think well she looks happy and active today, (maybe for a few days), but you don't realize that we cycle through episode so one week, month, maybe just even one day we are manic, and the next day, week, month we are going through mania (hyper, sometimes aggressive, shopping a lot or doing things that aren't that safe or that rational), and then all the sudden we may stabilize for a period of time.
 
Panicking all the time is embarrassing too. The losses in my life have caused me to panic about losing others when I think about how x will die someday, or I panic driving because if I lose control someone could die, or in social places because I fear being around these people and them judging me or getting on my nerves, or prying too much etch. It can be humiliating when you start to shake with anxiety, or start sweating, or even crying and there isn't much you can do besides find a bathroom to be alone in, go home, wait it out, or take an anti-anxiety med if you can. When I lose someone close I tend to have more panic attacks, and when I lost the pregnancies sometime I would panic seeing small babies because I would start thinking how I may never have kids, and what if Nathan would leave over that (he wouldn't but that doesn't stop the panicking).

So it can be difficult and frustrating because others don't understand why you are so inverted, irritable, crying for 'no reason', or just not able to be social or diplomatic. When traumas happen we tend to fold inward and our brains just don't want to deal with other people's stuff because it is having a hard enough time coping with it's own stuff. Being patient may be off the table too. It becomes overwhelming especially when people expect you to do certain things, or act certain ways, or 'get over it already'. I tend to not have very many friends because of this. It can be extremely taxing to have to leave the house and be 'friendly' when you are exhausted from being maniacally depressed and agro.

For all of you out there with bipolar disorder and panic disorder all I can recommend is to try and stay on your meds, be honest when you are feeling manic or mania, and I tend to put things around rooms that are unbreakable so if I get too upset or too angry I can throw them and they won't shatter. For panicking I suggest keeping a rubber band on your gear shift in your car, and one in your purse, wallet or on your wrist. When I start to panic snapping the rubber band against something or my skin can sometimes help bring me back to reality, or at least make the panic attack have slower onset. I have come to realize I don't have control over my moods or my anxiety and I have to accept me for me. I have to be honest with people that it affects and I have to talk about it or I become too overwhelmed. I need meds to control it but I also know I have a tendency to think "I'm fine, I don't need these" or "these meds don't do anything". I realize how wrong I am once I get off them and the cycles starts again about a couple weeks to a month later. I should know better because even on my meds I still go through episodes and panic attacks, just not as bad.
For those who don't have this mental illness, or one at all, take these words seriously. My blog is not a joke and it may seem scattered but that's just the way it comes out. Support is needed when a person is being tried by his/her disorders. Joking, or insinuating that they can just stop feeling that way or acting that way is hurtful and harmful. Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean it cannot be real. I know it may seem hard to accept these things because they aren't seen, you cannot just take an x-ray of the mind and say oh they are bipolar. It's mental and I think a lot of people equate that to meaning "it's all in your head and not real so just find a way to stop". It's just not that easy and a lot of neuronreceptors are in play. But I should stop here because this has turned into a book. I suppose it makes up for not writing a post yesterday! Thanks for reading, please pass it on for mental illness awareness.

Lea Silva