I’ve Hit Highs And Felt Lows

It’s been months since I’ve written a post, or even opened my WordPress page actually… Life decided to throw me a few more curveballs (I didn’t catch them, they hit me). But we will save the details of that for another post.

I’m slowly realizing that writing is one of the most beneficial things I can do for myself right now. Working out had always been my outlet, it always made me feel better. But with depression, I find myself having to force myself to workout. And that’s not always the easiest when I’m having a really bad day. The thought of making myself presentable and having to put on an act for other people just does not appeal to me whatsoever. In fact, I’m perfectly content at home alone, listening to music. Sometimes it’s better that way.

It’s been over a year now since the onset of my bipolar disorder and sometimes it feels like no one seems to know my struggle. My episodes are rapid cycling, very abrupt, it catches even me off guard sometimes. But I’m beginning to have the ability to identify when an episode is happening. Everything can be going great and something small can trigger me and my mood takes a complete turn around. Sometimes, my husband seems to still not understand that I can’t control it. It’s like he thinks I use being bipolar as an excuse for my behavior, but I don’t. I hate it.

“I’ve hit highs, and felt lows. Held on, and I’ve let go. Stood tall through bad calls.”

I cry all the time, wishing that I didn’t have to be this way. He’ll tell me “just stop then.” I wish it was that simple, if it was, I wouldn’t be this way. I think one of the things I miss the most about me before my bipolar onset is being confident and strong enough to not let other people control or affect my mood. Now, if I’m already spiralling down and my husband doesn’t realize or have the patience to consider the fact that I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s a recipe for disaster. The arguments start and the insults are thrown around. I fall weak and he holds the power. He always wins. My world falls apart and his stands strong and held together. Hatred flowing through my veins, on the verge of going insane, thinking of a thousand reasons why I don’t believe of him and I. He knows the way to sink us. My mind races, swarmed with thoughts. Why would he want to do this to me? Why does he want to hurt me? Why doesn’t he want to help me? My mind begins to get lost in the past.

The emotional pain is so unbearably agonizing that my mind begins to dance with the devil, filling with thoughts of physical pain. Telling me that I am the only one that wants me around. From my perspective, self-harm seems to be thought of as an escape. Like anything would feel better than the pain I feel inside that I can’t control. But I know better now. I know that it won’t help. I know that I don’t want to end up in the mental hospital for the fourth time. I begin to panic, here I am again. The fact that these thoughts even still cross my mind is bone-chilling. I just keep telling myself that everything will be alright. I have to keep telling myself that.

I have found medicine that has been able to stabilize me a lot, but medicine isn’t a cure all.  It has definitely helped me, but I still have to learn how to handle this myself. In fact, I’m currently experiencing a relapse. Mania and depression have become prominent again after a long period of being in remission. It’s frustrating. I had been doing good for so long and out of nowhere I began to experience more intense episodes. The disappointment is overwhelming and the setback is painful. I have began to search for a different medicine as the one that was working before clearly isn’t sufficient now.

Slowly I am beginning to learn how to identify triggers and episodes and discover new ways of coping. If anyone is reading this that is more recently diagnosed with bipolar, know that it takes time. I know you’re probably sick of hearing that like I was, and still am sometimes, but it’s true. It takes time to find the right medicine. It takes time to figure yourself out (not sure I will ever completely). It takes time to be able to tell yourself that everything will be okay, but know that it will be. You are stronger than you think you are.