It feels like it’s been quite some time since I’ve last posted but in reality it’s only been a month or two. Just to fill you in, I was diagnosed bipolar 2 back in early 2014 but last year I convinced myself that I wasn’t bipolar and didn’t need any medication. It’s was a pretty rocky road from there but I don’t mind hypomania that much, it’s always easy to go off medication then because you never remember what the depression is like. And here I am, crawling through each day, clinging onto what little strength I have left. I went to the psychiatrist today and I’m back on a mood stabilizer, and she added an antidepressant as well. I’m thankful because I know logically that this means I will start feeling better but sometimes it’s so hard to picture the future. Most of the time I feel like I may not even make it to the future.
Today it really set in that being bipolar for me is something that isn’t a one and done type of thing, I have had depressive episodes before and each time they seem to be worse than the one before them. My biggest issue this time around is actually allowing people to see what depression does. I honestly feel rather ashamed that I’m back in this state, I charge myself with an impossible mission of trying to overcome it all on my own. I suppose in certain ways I’ve made progress, I no longer cut myself, and I also no longer throw up on purpose. Perhaps I need to take more stock in winning the smaller battles throughout the war.
This time around it’s been a lot of crying. I’m pretty convinced that I had a never ending supply of tears. No one has seen me cry though, besides on accident if I let my boyfriend see me this way. I want to do it more often but I just feel like such a freak. Why would he want someone so broken? It doesn’t make any sense to me. I feel like screaming all the time, I’m so angry and it’s simply exhausting. I wish it didn’t have to be me. And at other times when I’m feeling particularly vindictive I wish it upon others because I want them to feel the pain that I’m feeling, I want to cry and shake them because I need them to know how real this all feels to me. Coming to terms with the fact that your mind is essentially trying to kill you is an odd one, well, part of my mind at least. It’s like really want to swallow all the pills I got today, but also not letting myself. I wish I was dead but it’s not because I want to be dead it’s just sometimes it seems a relief, a respite from this constant pain. Unfortunately, it’s also permanent and I might just be a little too damn narcissistic to handle that factor. I also feel like killing myself now would be like someone who is diagnosed with like stage 1 cancer killing themselves. Like there’s a definite chance it’ll be manageable and you can live a happy life. Just hard to get that clear perspective when I’m really down.
It’s really odd to say I’m feel very optimistic when I’m this depressed but I honestly am. I’m sick and I got medicine today. It will get better. It also helps that my boyfriend has been an absolute rock throughout this, some of the most therapeutic, healing moments that I’ve ever experienced have been with him. One in particular I won’t forget which is when he came into my apartment picked me up like a baby and set me on his lap and just let me cry. It’s in moments like those, and moods like this, where there is so much pain but at the same time I know I can let go and talk about how much I’m hurting and I know someone is listening and someone will hold my hand while I heal.
I’m committed to this life, I want my future with him, I want my future with children in it and I want to be successful and I know that I can be. It’s tough as fuck, and it hurts like hell but in a weird way I know that it will make me appreciate the good so much more. What I figure is if I’m at the bottom, it can only go up from here, right? I’m a fighter, a survivor and you can bet your ass that I’ll make it through this bought too.