Letting your vulnerability get in your way

It seems that every time I turn around someone is making me feel taken advantage of. I feel like I won't be able to trust someone for a long time (relationship wise). We all make mistakes that is true but sometimes when you have made the mistake a couple times you feel kind of stupid. You think someone actually cares, actually loves you, and then you realize that that's not really the reality of the situation. When those kinds of things happen and you feel like you've been duped or stabbed in the back you start to look at yourself. You wonder "What have I really done wrong?" or you wonder "Why do I let these kinds of things keep happening to me?". I feel that whenever I am vulnerable I let someone in and then it's just another mistake, my heart gets torn down and my trust violated. Quite honestly I feel abused. Not in a physical way but more emotionally. People I think I can trust turn out to be dishonest, or not trustworthy. They aren't loyal or genuine. Part of me feels that over the last few months my thinking processes have been fogged because of the bipolar and because of how unstable I was. Being open and sensitive left me vulnerable and I made a big mistake in thinking that the one person I thought would be most genuine wouldn't hurt me but he did. It just sucks. You bring me up but then squash me right back down and frankly I feel very used.

I know I am emotional but I don't ask much of the people I trust and care for. For instance, I ask that you don't betray my trust, stay loyal to our relationship whether it me a filial one, just a friendship, or an intimate relationship. I ask that if I want to chat and your busy to tell me that rather than ignore my call or text because I find that quite rude. I ask that you just respect me and I will respect you and when I am vulnerable or in a manic state or manic depressive state that you be genuine, trustworthy, and kind rather than be a façade of kind and then turn around and hurt me.

I have made these mistakes before where I put my trust in someone I really care for and/or love and I get crapped on. It feels horrible and I am really sick of it. I know I am an emotional person but I also know I am kind, supportive, genuine and trustworthy so when I don't get that in return and just feel I am getting hurt repeatedly over and over again it makes me wonder about myself. It's like I give trust too easily, and while I do think about my decisions it seems I don't always realize I am being manipulated, taken advantage of, or just being told the caring is real and then it seems it isn't at all. I don't appreciate people making assumptions about my past, hold me living my life against me like I wasn't supposed to live, holding my mental illness against me like I can just make it stop, or making me feel like because I have physical/mental issues that that means I am not worthwhile.

I was finally starting to feel good about myself, about my life and how it has turned for the better and then my trust got betrayed yet again. I feel stupid yes, but I also thought I could trust the person and it seems that was wrong. I put myself out there, I am open about who I am and how I feel and I am a very passionate person and that seems to either work wonders for my life or work to make me hurt all over again. It seems as of late I cannot win, I cannot have what I want in life, or I can't just be me and be accepted. But if those people can't accept me, cannot appreciate the person I am, and make up things about me or how I act than I don't want them in my life. I am not really stupid, yes sometimes I make stupid mistakes but I am clearly learning from them. Perhaps slowly but still I am.

You put yourself out there because you care, we all want love and friendship and intimacy, but sometimes those who we think are good for us really aren't. I am pretty stable but I have been swung into a manic episode. Not a full force manic episode but one nonetheless. It makes me want to be alone with my face in a book or simply around my family (which includes my closest friends like my friend Tina). I don't want to make the same mistakes. I don't want to be in a relationship for awhile because I need to work on me. I was just enjoying being happy and then apparently that was too much even though I didn't ask for anything serious. Just like my ex husband who said he couldn't give anymore even though I just asked for love and affection. So I guess before anyone gets too close to me again, in a way that they could easily hurt me, I need to really look at myself and figure out what I truly want. I am in the process of getting over being hurt deeply a few times and it feels like I am grieving for a loss and I am. I don't mind having friends come over, or going out to have a nice time, but I would prefer to have my wall up for awhile and be safely kept to myself.

Relationships aren't easy but sometimes we meet people who just can't be in one. Who can't be an adult or mature in the relationship and it's funny because I know I can overreact sometimes or be overly passionate, or want love so badly from the one I am with, but I as a mature woman respect what a relationship is. It's between two people and its give and take and compromise and understanding but not all people can handle relationships because they are unstable, or aren't emotionally mature, or aren't ready to be committed to being in a relationship that isn't always 50/50, that's not as easy as the movies make it seems, and not ready to deal with the hard things that can happen in life.

Being with me, having time with my family is the best way to keep my episodes to a minimum at this moment. I am taking my meds like I should, venting when I am extremely upset, writing this as a therapy, and realizing who I am and what I want and can't stand. Long term I only know this for when I am ready for a relationship- I want a nerd like me, that knows how a relationship requires attention and love and understanding, who can be a book worm with me, and me on my level intelligence wise and academically (that's not supposed to be an insult to anyone I just want my mind enriched). But until I am actually ready to bring my guard down I am completely okay with making sure I can make myself stable and keeping it that way while I am vulnerable from the loss I have had and the betrayal I have felt.

Never think you need someone else to make you feel whole. If you feel that way than mentally you aren't prepared for a committed relationship or even one that isn't as serious. Don't let yourself be manipulated or taken advantage of while you are feeling vulnerable. Just work on making yourself happy and understanding yourself first.

Thanks for reading my rant.

Lea

It's a Mad World

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lea Silva

How The World Turns Out to Be So Different

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

To Be Continued.....

Lea

Self Medicating; Mental Illness and Defining Who You Are.

There was a time that I had no idea who I was. Obviously I knew I was Lea, I was a decent person, and I was pretty intelligent. However, I didn't know who I was because everything felt like it was crumbling, I felt I needed attention because I thought it helped me cope with what I was going through, and I always was trying to figure out my morals, my goals, my view on life. When I found out I was Bipolar I didn't really know what to think. It made a lot of sense. I would want to be in a relationship because it made me feel more secure but then I would incidentally feel overwhelmed by the relationship, feel that I didn't know how to deal with my boyfriend when we argued, and I always felt that they were judging me because I would get so down or angry or even hyper. I remember having my ex storm out because I became so hyper-focused on a project I was doing I didn't notice him trying to talk to me. I honestly didn't even notice him leave. Granted he was pretty douchey but I didn't know how to deal with that situation. It seemed really stupid to me and immature, but I felt myself losing patience, getting angry, and being disgusted. I flipped out thinking wow how immature can you be, why would I even tolerate with this? Is it really that hard to believe I was so focused I didn't notice you standing behind me like a creep? I cannot help that this happens to me, nor is it that out of the ordinary as far as I know. The anger I felt was out of the ordinary as he really ticked me off by being so not understanding. He didn't understand much about me. He didn't realize why I would get overly upset by remarks made towards me, why I would get offended so deeply by rape "jokes", why I would get so angry at intolerant people, and why I got so offended or upset by jokes that poked at people with mental disorders. I get upset by a lot and I cannot control that. Somethings I get upset at I understand- people making jokes about rape, molestation, mental illness, pokes at people with bipolar disorder so on. I would also get very aggressive when someone I was dating would tell me to just fuck off, or get control of myself, or instigate me so badly I would rage out. It didn't feel very fair that I would get picked on by someone that was supposed to understand me. It felt awful when I would find something they did very disturbing, annoying, or just wrong and they wouldn't understand that me getting upset as I did was not because I wanted to be that upset. It makes you feel like an outsider and question if you have a right to be upset, and this led me to stay in relationships longer than I should have, to the point that it would exacerbate my issues.

When I found out I was bipolar it had made sense because I had issues with spending money (too much spending), I self sabotaged because of my impulses to do what at that exact moment felt correct (which was usually out of anger or depression or lack of caring), and I had a problem dealing with others. I just could not deal with a lot of people because I felt they just didn't understand anything, or that they were just so ignorant I didn't want to be associated with them. Most importantly I didn't like many people because I had alway felt stigmatized without understanding why. Finding out you have bouts of crying often, having a serious boiling point that caused rage, having a significant amount of pent up anger, having the feeling you should do whatever you feel like doing (which can be dangerous), and having the lowest of low depressions that made me lethargic and feel so demotivated I would skip work or quit jobs made me feel "At least I know why. At least I can understand that part of me now, and hopefully I can get it in check."

However, a big problem with being bipolar is the impulse that can be risky. I would get on meds and be doing so well. I would be able to be calm, stay pretty laid back and only have manic and mania episodes every once in awhile rather than daily, and I could get along with more people (although, I still disliked a lot of people). Yet, once I felt like I was at a good stable point I would get off my meds. For about a month, maybe two, I would still be okay and then there would come a time when it all came crumbling back down. I am not going to lie, there was a point in my younger twenties where I drank too much (around 21-22 maybe 23). I didn't drink daily, and I didn't drink during the day (like that really matters), but at night, because I have always been more of a night owl) I would drink and I would do this a few times a week. No big deal right? Most young twenty something adults drink a few nights a week until they get it out of their systems. My drinking was not like that. I drank to self medicate. I would drink because it usually brought my moods to a neutral, at least that's what I thought. It did not though. Sure sometime I would be what we call "happy drunk" but it actually made me much more hostile. I didn't really notice or I just ignored it. I didn't want to ever become an alcoholic like my dad, and that thought really scared me. But I didn't do drugs. It just wasn't part of my thought process, so I drank thinking it would move me away from the feeling of being "crazy". Being bipolar does NOT mean you are crazy but you certainly may feel that way when it is happening to you.


Eventually I realized that this was not okay. That drinking was making things worse when I was drunk. I am already impulsive at times so add drinking to that and it turns out to be a bad conclusion. Fighting as a grown adult is stupid, especially physical fighting. Getting in arguments with people you are in relationships with becomes a bigger issue than it was, and causing issues for other people. Additionally, I constantly pulled houdinis. This means that I would go out with friends and my sister and at some point I would get either very agitated by someone at the bar, or agitated in general for unknown reasons. When this occurred I would leave. I wouldn't tell anyone I was leaving and I would just disappear. Now this may not seem that bad but when you are downtown at 1 or 2 in the morning it becomes dangerous as there are a lot of creeps out. It also isn't safe to go disappearing when you are so drunk you can't see so well and you are walking around the city not really knowing where you are going to end up. I usually ended up in my bed alone, but there were times where some stranger would pull up and ask if I need a ride. Thinking I was invincible I would take the ride. I indeed ended up at home alone BUT WHO DOES THAT? I could have been in a lot of trouble or done something really stupid and regrettable. I always have to thank my lucky stars that I was lucky and never had anything bad happen to me. There is a story though that really shook me out of the drinking to self medicate.

I got very drunk at a bar and got into an argument with a co-worker who was there. I got a ride to another bar where my now ex was. I was so angry my friend behind the bar gave me the bottle of vodka (bad idea). I ended up being very wasted to the point that I started a fight with my ex. I don't remember any of this, the story I am telling is a story from those that were there. I went outside and started a fight with him, and embarrassingly I tried to hit him, and trip him (which I am not known to be violent at this point anymore towards people in a physical manner). I apparently then start screaming because he is bear hugging me trying to get me to calm down. A car with two girls pull up and I jumped into the passenger's lap and told her I was scared of what he was going to (I was screaming this). He actually did throw something at me and tried to pull me out of the car. This gave them the impression that he was trying to harm me. They drove me by my house, about a block away and I ran out (dropping my migraine meds and my phone in their car and accidentally grabbing the one girls purse.... oops). I passed out on someone lawn and was not responsive to anyone so I was rushed to the ER. I was so angry when I woke up out of this daze that it literally (and you can ask my ex or my mom) took 4 male nurses to hold me down. I had so much rage strength that they asked me if I had taken PCP. I started yelling at them that they were f*cking idiots and to check my blood for PCP. When they drug analysis showed no signs of any drugs they were not very pleasant towards me. I assume it was either because my rage strength was so great that it messed with them mentally because they needed several people to hold me down, and/or it was because I had been that vicious without drugs that it was more offensive that I wasn't on a mind altering drug. I ended up having my mom give the passenger her purse back in exchange for my phone and meds. The girl said she didn't have the meds and I am sure she thought they had some recreational use because they said "for pain", but they were drugs that dilated your blood vessels, so yea have fun with that. In the end, after three days of the worst hangover ever I realized how awful I was when I binged to escape my reality of having a manic mind.

I did date a guy who drank frequently and I would drink more often than usual when I was with him, but I usually did my trick of getting a drink and pretending to take a sip and when I brought my hand down would dump the shot on the floor (sorry bar owners). I did this because of how he reacted if I didn't want to partake in drinking or didn't want to go out. Like I said I ended up staying in bad relationships. Usually I only really drank two maybe three drinks, and only once in awhile did I let loose and drink more. However, this was not a good thing. I could have easily slipped back into that mentality I had had previously. This guy was a piece of work. He was overbearing, controlling, so insecure it was aggravating, nasty towards me, and I believe he intentionally instigated me to become super agro so he could turn the argument around on me. This didn't work because my rage was no thing you want to mess with. In the end I broke it off with him because I couldn't deal with his neediness or his manipulative games (like saying I am gonna leave you if you don't do x or if you do y.. he would do this often and throw shit all around the room and try leaving when he was sauced and I would have to sit in-front of the door for hours until he gave up. It was such a disgusting relationship I couldn't stand one more minute of it and when he said ok well I'm leaving I said okay bye, with the encouragement of someone I thought was a friend but that's another story. I was actually engaged to this guy and had months before asked him to slow it down and he flipped out on me like any alcoholic would. So we broke up a week before we were to be married and I couldn't have been happier. He of course spread the rumor that I cheated on him, which I did NOT but I didn't really care because I was away from him. He made my challenge with bipolar disorder more difficult).

Now I of course have done a lot of impulsive things like getting into relationships without thinking about it, breaking up with people very quickly and coldly, and deciding I need to do x right now, or I need to go buy x this second. I had not so much control over what I wanted, or what I thought I wanted.

I dealt with this kind of stuff for a long time. I would go into severe depressions that led to a corrupt state of mind. I would get so depressed I couldn't eat, sleep, think straight. It would cause me to be very aggressive, and in my much younger years I was violent but as I got older and learned to cope at least a little bit that kind of behavior subsided. I couldn't imagine myself doing that kind of harm unless I was defending myself.

At anyrate, when I got away from that relationship I slowly was able to get away from the bar scene. Yes I had a couple nights of getting drunk because I was trying to deal with the craziness of the situation, but I did stop drinking except for a glass of wine with dinner every once in awhile. I am to the point now that I don't drink nearly ever and to the extent that a half of a drink will get me a little tipsy.  My point is a lot of bipolar people and anxiety ridden people will self medicate and submit to awful relationships. When this happens you have to get out of the relationship because it will affect how well you deal with your disorder, and because it will cause you to self medicate more, and this can lead to dependency.

I had to come to the point in my life that I felt I was smothered, I didn't know who I was, and I didn't have the ability to cope to realize what I was doing to myself was wrong. I had neglected my intelligence and went back to college, I would stop a relationship that didn't make me happy or matter to me and I found the love of my life. Finding someone that can help you cope and can support you through your episodes is someone you want to be with. If being in a relationship is not something you want, which I did feel that way around 20 and 21, then that is fine too but you have to learn to deal with yourself. Actually even when you are in a relationship you have to learn to deal with yourself, support yourself, and instead of making yourself feel helpless or lost you need to find ways to make you feel better and encouraged.

Finding ways to deal with mental illness can be very tricky because there are times where it gets so out of hand you have no idea who you are. That usually means you are off your meds lol. Usually when I am on my meds I know when I am going overboard, or I can recognize something that has started to make me angry shouldn't be. Not everyone needs meds, some are very capable at dealing with their mental illness but for severe cases like mine it is damn near impossible. I cannot ever control the panic attacks or when they come, and I have a very difficult time bringing myself down to earth when I have surpassed the rage mode or manic depression level. The anxiety will stress you the hell out and can affect your entire day which is why I usually suggest some sort of medicine whether it be a modern medicine or an herbal supplement like valerian root (which smells like farts and you usually need two at least to combat a panic attack), these will calm you so that you don't lose focus all day. I know that when I start to panic all I focus on all day is how I was panicking, what if the panic attack comes back, and so forth. I have accepted this as part of my being and embarrassed it by letting people know that I get these attacks and sometimes I need support because they overwhelm me. Communication goes a long way. So don't be scared to admit your issues, and don't be scared to ask for help, tell your professor I need an extention I am having some issues mentally (they usually do make exceptions for you), and tell your family so that they can understand and help. This also allows them to realize why sometimes you may act out or seem overboard but by knowing what's going on they will realize you aren't trying to burn bridges.

I have come to realize who I am. I am a beautiful young woman (I used to see myself as a complete wreck of a person), I am an intelligent being (I had times were I thought I was just so dumb because I couldn't control myself and didn't know why), I have a very amazing mind that does have a compulsion but one that makes me want to learn things fully and thoroughly and if I don't read all the information I want I feel like I can't focus, I am stronger than I think (I always felt weak because of my mental illness but really it is just a part of me that I can make use of rather than look at it negatively), I love wisdom, ethics, helping the needy (which helps with my deep depressions), giving love to others because it makes all parties feel nice, I am very empathetic towards animals to the point where I will cry if I see one being harmed, I am a person that loves music as a form of therapy, I am a person that is so passionate that I get very involved in my projects, and I am not a push over. Now maybe this all sounds narcissistic but it is a coping mechanism to see the positives in yourself, and describing who you are. I know I want to help others, I want to defend those that are left behind, and those that are stigmatized (mentally ill, certain races so on). These things give me perspective on what I want to do. By having this perspective I can the courage to not just impulsively stop because things get overwhelming, which I used to do frequently. You have to come to realize that you are smart, and amazing, and special. That your mind is different but that doesn't mean it has hindered you. By having encouraging goals and thought about who YOU are teaches you ways to deal with life while being mentally ill. And here you can find support from me and maybe some good advice.

I know this was another long one so if you made it down to this point thank you. I hope this helped you in viewing life through a different perspective. Please feel free to leave comments or ask for advice or whatever.

Thanks

Lea Silva

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

The Insider's Perspective Manic Depression After A Loss

I often find it difficult to convey to those who are not bipolar exactly what happens, what the thought process is, and what it means. Forgive me if I repeat some things from other posts but I wanted to write clearly the inside perspective, at least in part. This may take more than one post.

I cannot tell you how many times I have gone through different cycles of manic, mania, depression, overtly happy, hyper-focused, etc. I do not know how many times I have fought irrationally, or even started rational and became irrational. It's one of the hardest things to deal with. Imagine feeling like you cannot control what you say, how you are feeling, or even who you are sometimes.

To give a good idea of what it is like I am going to refer to the hardest time of my life because it spiraled me into the worst manic depression I have ever known. Some back story is necessary. I have endometriosis, a disease of the uterus that causes womb tissue to grow outside the womb, causes scar tissue to form, and causes cyst growth. I had had two surgeries to remove this tissue growth and went through a time where my menses was way off. My doctor informed me that I was not dropping eggs on a regular basis which was causing serious issues with my endometriosis. At the time I was dating my now husband Nathan. Not long after we started dating I got pregnant. I knew me and Nathan would be together no matter what so I was ecstatic to find out I had actually gotten pregnant. We were both crying tears of happiness and just so excited.

A few days later I felt a pain ripping through my groin like I had never experienced. Now I have some pretty bad back issues that cause me severe sciatic pain so my first thought was that the growing of my womb was somehow causing bad sciatic pain. I called the Dr and he told me to go to the ER immediately. Obviously I knew I had tried to talk myself out of knowing the truth. I went to a hospital that did not treat me very well, and sent me home saying they weren't sure. The next day, during my finals, the pain erupted from my abdomen. It was so bad I walked out of the class room and when I just about fainted I knew I was losing the baby. I went rushing to my professor, crying my eyes out, and told her what was happening. (she let me do the final at home). I rushed to a different hospital, Metro, and the immediately got me in a room, injected me with diluated (sp?), and prepped me for an ultrasound. Sure enough the fetus was in the fallopian tube, the size of a golf ball and I was bleeding inward, which explained why I did not bleed out which made things a bit confusing. I ended up in emergency surgery bc we couldn't wait or the pregnancy would have ruptured and caused sepsis. I lost my baby and my left fallopian tube.

The fact that I was just told I wasn't dropping eggs regularly and that it may take a long time to get pregnant, if I could, this hit hard. By hard I mean like I was ran over by every single semi in Ohio. I was absolutely devastated. My tube was so scared from endometriosis that the egg was not able to get to the womb. My husband was devastated. It was the first time I saw him cry. I'm crying right now just picturing that moment in the ER when we looked at each other and I started to wail. Now one can imagine how hard this is in general, and then you add on bipolar disorder and it becomes a whole other thing

The couch became my sanctuary where I just laid for hours. Yea I would go ride my bike but I didn't care about it. I didn't care about anything (besides caring about my families well-being of course). I did NOT care about myself. I felt tricked. I felt cheated. I felt anger, rage, sorrow, such deep deep sorrow. I couldn't see a life in my future. I could not imagine how anyone could deal with this or deal with that kind of depression. Now I fall into manic depressive states when other very important loved ones have died, but for whatever reason this one brought me to my knees. I believe it is because I felt my baby dying inside me. I felt my body dying. I felt the world coming in on me. I had the scars to look at. I had the knowledge that now I would have even less chances of pregnancy because I was now more prone to ectopic pregnancies (which it happened again almost exactly a year after this one but my tube was salvaged), and I was missing a tube.

My world filled with darkness. While I got a new perspective on what was important, and what maturity really meant, I was falling down a very demented rabbit hole. I could barely sleep. I stayed up until 6 am many nights playing video games where I could kill monsters because I was so full of anger and sadness that I needed an outlet that took me to a new reality. Me and my husband became closer though. Very very close. He dealt with everything I went through. My non-stop crying days, my silent days, my aggressive days, and etc.

In my mind I felt worthless and like the life I had was nothing anymore. I lost my dad two weeks after losing the baby. Talk about a horrible month. When he died I thought I couldn't grieve for him. Well I did but it was delayed. I had to grieve over that pregnancy first.  I tried to control my emotions, and I didn't do well because I took it out on others by yelling, or by quitting my job, by throwing my manic fits of rage. Finally when it really hit me that I would never get the chance to build a real relationship with my dad I drowned.

Imagine yourself in a dark ocean bottom. So dark you cannot see anything. Lonely and frightening you sit. It starts to feel like things are around you prodding you, hurting you, tearing you apart slowly. Your brain feels like it is just melting, that is the best way to describe it. Just mush. Your thoughts seem to be continuous streams of negative dark thoughts. Then out of nowhere change to self defeating thoughts ( like what if's and imagining what your baby would have been like, how beautiful it would have been, how you and your dad could bond over the baby, how I will never hear my father again, and I will always still be sitting wishing I would hear him on my birthday). You get the point. And then you start thinking- is anything worth it? I am going through so much misery and pain and everyone else is able to keep going and living , so does my existence even matter? Would my lover be better off with someone without problems, who could have a healthy pregnancy, who won't be medicated for their whole life because they are depressed, because I feel so differently day to day or even hour to hour? Would it matter if I disappeared? Would my family really feel my missing presence? Would it have been better to die with the pregnancy? And then it emerged into this

I wish I had died with the pregnancy. How many times do I have to feel so down that it feels like it be better to not exist at all? My body and my mind are against me and here I sit self loathing and pitying and that makes me pathetic. My lover deserves better than me. I am truly nothing ( I did not mean this I the philosophical sense, bc I do believe that in the philosophical sense which isn't as dark as the sense that this was in).

I did not care if I got hit by a car and died, or if I was murdered, or if I simply died from a broken mind. I felt crazy. I felt like I was falling so deep into a hole that I would never get out.

This is what mental illness does. But still more than this. It goes beyond what I have written just now. It is much more complex. To say a few last important things:

Eventually I got into a horrible fight (verbal) with my now husband. I just yelled and yelled and never got what I truly wanted to say across (hang on I will tell you what it was in a minute). I would then break and start sobbing and fall to my knees or lay in the fetal position and he would just suck it all up for me and hug me. He knew. Then I went rage out a couple days later, and I spurred out "I wish I had died" and that's when it all poured out. Every thought I had either knowingly held in or every thought I didn't even know was causing all my manic problems, came gushing out of me. My mind felt like it was on fire. Searing with pain and suffering. If I hadn't had my husband I don't even want to say what I think would have happened to me. He let me get it all out. He dealt with it all. He took me to a doctor who gave me anti-depressants. Big mistake because I flew into a whole other whirlwind so we went back. I literally broke down in her office. I told her all of my dark feelings, and how my anxiety was very severe. She drug tested me!!!!! Can you believe that. Here I am finally being honest and she drug tests me to make sure I am not lying trying to score drugs. REALLY! I passed by the way. (She checked for crack, meth, heroin, PCP, cocaine, and marijuana! Really do I look like I take hardcore drugs or something. I came to you because I needed to be medicated not because I was self medicating). I have been diagnosed since I was like 19 or so. Anyway she put me on my meds and it was a miracle.

I had never been given Seroquel, even though I had asked to try it several times as I heard it combated severe bipolar and anxiety well.

While I still feared that everyone was going to die, or got scared I would somehow lose Nathan to something horrible happening, the medicine smoothed me out within a couple weeks. I was put up to 500 mg total, which I am currently at today, and my perspective on life came back slowly. While I still do go through manic depressive episodes and have anxiety still, the Seroquel helped a great deal. Then klonopin was added thanks to the NP at psych, who didn't feel a need to drug test me. Rolls eyes. Then also lamictal. However, after several months I stopped taking my meds thinking I was fine and normal, and didn't need meds to keep control. Typical bipolar person! Seriously I have never met a truly bipolar person who hasn't done that. This is after I got married to Nathan, and got accepted into the upper division Honors program at school. Guess what? J got pregnant and again it was ectopic. So the story goes on, but not now, you have to wait until later.

To be continued....

Lea

Diagnosis, and the 'Episodes'

There are millions of people out there suffering from some sort of mental illness be it depression, some sort of anxiety, OCD, schizophrenia, sociopath, psychopathy, PTSD, ADHD, Bipolar disorder, and so forth. Do you ever wonder what those people must be feeling? I certainly do. Are they feeling like I felt in my teens when I had no idea why I acted the way I did. I was told by friends and some family members that it was because my dad wasn't there, or because my father had had a temper but I knew that could not be it. I felt lost in a big world with a brain I didn't understand. When bad things came my way, no matter how big or small, it changed the way I felt instantly. I thought I was broken, something was wrong with me. I broke phones, glasses, pans, windows, my wrist, toes (from kicking things), hurt others with my vicious words, and struggled. I still struggle daily but at least now I know why and that makes it a little easier. I have learned to cope with having mental illness, and I have learned to be humble and apologize. I will never be able to stop myself from fixating on one thing that hurt me, or feel so hurt I fall deep down, and I won't be the typical average 'non-mentally ill' person (whatever that may mean). I will always struggle to hold my tongue, focus my mind on not raging or getting angry, and my greatest fear is I will never learn to cope with dealing with work everyday. I have a hard time coping with school 4 days a week, so I fear not being able to do what I want in life (unless I find a way to do it at home). I am going to present here a tale from my life that affected me forever. An event that affected me and caused my 'episodes' to start. While I am positive bipolar disorder is just in my genetic code because I have done therapy for this specific part of my life several times, I do believe this set me off earlier than if this hadn't happened. I am opening up on something I HATE talking about so please no harsh commenting, and at the end of this post you will understand why I telling you this. So here goes it.

As a young girl I was raped. I was 12 and he was 24. My friends and me went to a friend of a friends house and I had my first 40 (big mistake kids to think you are ready for that when you are not). In the end I was left passed out in some strangers bedroom. I awoke to a man, who was much bigger and stronger than me, maybe 6 Ft or so, on top of me. I looked around panicking, not knowing what I should do. Do I yell? If I yell he might hit me. Do I try and run? No he will probably hit me. And that's the answer I just kept coming to. My 12 year old body was drunk, and was so trapped and afraid of what was about to happen. Trying with all my might to get up from under him and I just felt paralyzed. Holding my one wrist he ended up getting the clothes off below the waist and here I am frozen in terror. I felt so horrified. I remember tears coming down the side of my face silently. I could muster up only the courage to say this "I'm a virgin please don't hurt me". The sick bastard smiled at that. I won't ever forget that look. EVER. My wrist was released but I had no power. My tiny short body was stuck under this disgusting piece of s**t. I wanted to die. I tried pushing him off me but realized the more I fight the more he will fight and I just waited. I waited to be set free. When I was I b lined my way out of that house. Dazed and not really knowing what just happened, what I should do, and where exactly I was I just started walking.

The worst part was I didn't want to say anything because I felt humiliated. I felt like nothing. I felt that what was special about me wasn't special anymore. I didn't know what to tell my friends, and I definitely did not know what to tell my mom. I simply said I lost my virginity to friends and mindlessly answered questions and the whole time I was doing this the image of me dying was in my mind. The image of me, at 12, dying was all I saw. I was so mortified I feared telling my friends the truth. I don't really know why but that's how I felt. My mom figured it out. I asked 'Do tampons break your hymen?" She immediately knew something was wrong. She asked me "Did you have sex?" I swallowed my vomit and said 'kind of'. She was starting to get the point. When I told her he was 24, told her my friends got me drunk, told her 'no I don't know if he wore a condom because I was not awake when he got atop me', she flipped like any mom would and took me to the police station.

I tell this story because this is what I thought caused all my issues. I'm sure it caused a lot, and I am sure it slowly formed my panic disorder, and my rage that usually is worse with men  but I do not believe it is what caused me to be bipolar, it only made my episodes worse. I look at my younger sister who is 12 and think about how tiny she is. She is strong, but she is tiny. She is a child. She is so innocent. Her skin has not met time yet and her body has not even taken shape yet. I am 28 and I look at her and see a baby. How any 'man' could look at a young child like that and watch them get drunk and then rape them is far past my ability to understand.

When I first saw a psychologist he asked me if I had every been abused in anyway and I shortly said yes, I was raped. I refused to talk about it because it always would throw me into an 'episode' as my mother would say. He backed off the subject and discussed how abuse affects the mentally ill, how holding it in exacerbates it, and how to try and combat my rage. Note: I went to a doctor finally because I was raging out on everyone so I needed help.

I had come to realize that I CANNOT let that disgusting worthless pos take me down. I may always have to deal with bipolar disorder and panic disorder, but I can get some control by not letting his actions control my outlook.

It took me a long time to realize that even though I can be absolutely nuts sometimes, that I do not deserve bad treatment, that I don't have to turn a blind eye to a douchebag boyfriend cheating, and that even with my crazy moments my mind is wonderful and I can offer something to this world because of my experiences. I can tell my story and hope it helps others. I know that what happened to me is awful but by working through it I helped my coping skills. Much more has happened to me since then that was not pleasant but it gave me perspective.

I sometimes do wonder though how would I be if that hadn't happened to me? Would I have lived differently? Would I have chosen the path I did as a teen? Would I have had such a bad bipolar break and panic disorder?

I answer these questions as such:

If that had not happened to me I may have lived a life without actual knowledge or understanding of what people are capable of. We all hear these stories and all see news videos of gruesome events but most of us think that will never happen to me, or we see it, recognize it, but have this strange habit of not really thinking of it as real. I dealt with this in reality so I have an inside perspective. I have more empathy for victims of all sorts of crimes, which makes me try and be moral and kind. However, my knowledge of this kind of abuse led me to realize how awful this world can be. Because I can empathize so much when people are mistreated I feel deeply. This deep feeling is ignited by bipolar disorder and I drown into a manic state. So deep I won't leave the house or I will go MIA and not talk to anyone but my mom and husband. So maybe if this hadn't happened my manic stages wouldn't be so severe, but I learned I have to find silver linings or I will become very sorrowful. So I am able to see the world in a different way than most; I see the world without blinders and that makes it easier for me to connect the dots in life.
This awful experience caused me to delve deep into my academics as a young teen. However, even though I was offered several full ride scholarships I turned them down. I was not ready. I had too much going on in my head and I had no clue what I would even go for. I ended up taking a couple classes here and there at the community college and hated it so I stopped. I worked under the table and learned a lot about what really happens in this world and not just what media wants us to think, or what materialistic people see. The world can be disgusting, greedy, addicted, and dirty but can also be moving, kind, and beautiful. Through this stage in life I could not control my illness. I would have 'episodes' all the time. I didn't like staying at one job for too long, hated working on a specific schedule, and hated having a boss. I couldn't cope with it. I was so dysfunctional. The psychiatrist put me on Abilify and Cymbalta which just put me into a sedative state, while the Cymbalta caused another manic episode. I soon learned I needed out of my real life lifestyle. I needed to get away from the guy I was dating who made me go crazy, and I needed to let my intelligent mind work.
I went back to university with a scholarship (6 or so years after high school I still got the scholarship). I have been to so many doctors trying to help me mentally and physically and I had seen the discrimination first hand.

I'm sure I am not the only tattooed bipolar person that has been drug tested with no reason to even suspect abuse (I never failed any of them). I also felt I was sometimes treated poorly or condescendingly because I was bipolar. One doctor refused to listen to me about how sick I was feeling and he insisted it was anxiety and a mania stage. I of course flipped out and he of course dickishly said "see it's just your bipolar disorder". The next day I had emergency surgery to get my appendix removed because it was about to burst. So my intentions are to advocate for patients via ethical systems. I am sick of feeling like I need to keep things hidden, or like I will be stigmatized or discriminated against just because I need specific meds. I don't want anyone to deal with all of the BS I have dealt with. I want to advocate for the mentally ill, especially when it comes to bipolar disorder as so many people have asked "oh come on are you really bipolar? I think that is just an excuse. Bipolar disorder isn't real is it?" That always hurts and reminds me why I like staying inside. But as my panic disorder progresses and I cope with rapid cycling bipolar I find myself more determined to tell people all about my experiences. It may take forever but if this helps one person it is worth it. If one person can learn what it feels like to deal with this it will be worth it. Every experience that drives my anxiety or throws me into an 'episode' gives me more perspective. Learning to deal with doctors is important too. So while I have here written a novel, it was to show that while many find it hard to express their problems, experiences, or how they were abused and how that affects them, that letting it out is helpful. It is calming. I find some peace from my minds antics when I write and I find sanctuary in books and others' writings about their experience. I am here to support anyone that needs it. I am writing to help myself and hopefully others. I am here to show those who think its not real, or an excuse, that it is more complex than they can imagine. And I want to write this so those that have someone who deals with bipolar disorder and/or panic disorder can maybe get an inside look on how we think, our process in thought, how we link things together, and perhaps then understand why certain things put together can make us snap. I wrote my long story today to shed some light on how I process when I am manic, to see how far I have come (or maybe not lol), and to recognize what is on my mind that I didn't realize was even causing my depression today.

I know this was long so thank you for reading this if you made it down to here
Pass the links to the posts along to those who may not understand bipolar or panic disorder but need to, or to those who are having a hard time coping. I am more than happy to try and give advice. Thanks

Lea Silva