Bipolar is a hide and seek game. Each individual brings his or her own unique stamp to the clinical picture.
So why am I writing about this? Like most other people with this chronic condition I felt like this is like a type of death sentence. My main goal is to share my experience. Maybe it can help other persons with this illness to understand or identify themselves better. I am an expert at this game. No, I am not a doctor. I live it each and everyday.
I see myself as a high functional bipolar person. Mostly. Like most people I have a good job, I am a mother, a wife and try my best to survive on a daily basis. So what are the “story of my life” dealing with this? To name an example: The one week I am this happy chappy “normal person” and then the next thing I know, something triggers me(or without any explanation) and I begin to spike downwards… I begin to get this feeling… this absolute feeling of tiredness…So bad that I can literally not get out of bed… then a total negative mindset…. and then I find myself in the valley of death. I’m entangled in web of despair. Sometimes I wish to die in my sleep. There seem to be no light in the end of the tunnel. It’s only me and my “private blank space of absolute darkness”.
The meds is a topic all by itself. Antidepressants. Yes, it definitely help to stabilize the mood spikes – or sort of… The one moment the meds can seem to be working perfectly, and the next moment I suddenly do not respond to the meds at all! In this case the meds need to be adapted by my psychiatrist. It can be a real cat and mouse game to find medication that “work”for you and sometimes you have to go to a psychiatric hospital where they can monitor your progress. This is for your own safety. For me one of the greatest challenges is the medicine induced weight gain.
In my world I am blessed to have loved ones that support me. But let’s be honest – not everyone can and will be interested to understand you. That’s okay for me. I really don’t care about people who don’t care.
- During this stage people like to say that you must “get a grip & Snap out of it”. Not possible!
- The following feelings may be present:
- Not enjoying activities anymore, anxious all the time, moods swings, anger, tearfulness, feeling doomed, you cannot concentrate and struggle to remember things, you want to die. You are paranoid. Tired all the time. Just wants to sleep.
People think that you are “sports”. Many people are happy that you are not “depressed” anymore. You may seem like the party animal. They don’t actually notice that there is something “wrong” with you – until the aftermath.
- You feel energetic
- risk-taking behaviours that may get you in big trouble
- False feelings of being superior to others
- Lack of sleep
I wrote this a while ago. This is how I “Feel”
I feel intoxicated. Hangover x1000. My body’s leaden. My arms are hanging like strands. I’m semi conscious. I am dead, BUT actually alive. I want to die, love to. I can’t see clearly. My whole existence is pitch-dark. My eyes are watering cans, a constant waterfall . I will read the Bible, pray more, believe. I cry , “My God, my God, why have you forsake me!?”. “It’s your poor church attendance my child.” People have their own perceptions. Am I cursed? Some people treat me like a leper. I see an animal…
The animal jumps onto my lap. I slap it. His ironclaws penetrates my skin. In my world, there is absolute no water restrictions. I’m an open faucet blood. The animal with the red, glowing eyes. The animal is drenched with poison, killing me slowly. Please go away! . I love animals. Who is this animal? Veterinarians have absolute no knowledge about this animal. The animal growls at me. Bites me – more painful than a bee’s sting. Consume me like a Blackwidow spider. Scorpion. My blood is a thickening black sauce. Hot thick black tar burns my back. The doctor comfort me with a box of pills. “Come see me after two weeks” The wound is forming a nice crust… “It’s safe, you will feel better.
Am I becoming crazy … I hear voices … Doctor again. “Drink it for six months, then come back for a follow-up visit”. Then comes the beast again. The animal is destroying my soul. The animal is playing mind games. The animal tickles my back … softly … and then suddenly tries to murder me with his fists. The animal ruminates me. Chewing and spitting. Each semester or sometimes more frequent. Sometimes I see is the animal in my yard. It is defecating on my lawn. I throw him with stones. Maybe it will back off en leave my in peace. The animal lay in the corner, whimpering pathetically. Thank goodness, he is gone. For now…
I want to get rid of this animal. I’m going to kill it! The animal is causing lot of paths in my head which only he knows the routes. My head becomes a mixed up atlas. The Growling beast, a misty black cloud comes from his mouth. The soft blanket of black evil mist covers me. The blanket’s heat makes me sweat. Black drops of sweat. The sweat burns my eyes. “ wipe off your face then you will feel better”. Easy…?
I drink the pills and my eyes see clearly again. It’s okay. The animal teases me again, but I shoot him. I reload my gun with new bullets of joy and hope. I am going to kill this animal this time. This happened before, lots of times, like a de vu. The sunset is beautiful again. The Moon and stars is fascinating. Every breath I inhale is worth the effort. I mow the lawn. It is therapeutic. I have strength. I smell the freshly move grass again, I see the grass. I roll on the grass. I am bursting with laughter . It’s Green, it’s life, it’s nice, life is beautiful. Life is good.
But the animal is showing up again and again. What the hell. I notice him, I run him over with he lawn mover. The mower’s blades scatter his body into pieces. Blood and chunks of meat. I like what I see and feels satisfied. This animal must also suffer like I do. I get into the shower to get rid of this animal’s shrapnel. My wounds are healing. But the animal appears in the night … demon … grimming. People say I imagine things. I am looking for attention. Snap out of it! People are cruel.
“You are truly an underdog”people say. I itch, I itch everywhere, my crusts are itching. My wounds are healing ! Euphoric . I am living in Utopia. All is good. Too good. Why do I have 5 identical shirts in my closet??? “you have what? … Are you crazy woman? ” What the hell “You are insane women”. I try to argue. . “I have save you from yourself”. “Get your temper under control, stop your mood swings”. “Get a grip!”. No more sympathy. People label me. You are unstable.
The animal is sticking his tongue out at me. The animal is trying to get my attention! Making of total fool of me . Everyone is angry with me now. I say sorry. I feel sorry for myself and is on a constant inappropriate guilt trip. I am trapped in a consuming fire of hell. Lucifer takes my hand. He is an Angel with false pretense. “Welcome to My world … I like to see you suffer!!!!”… . The devil is mocking me . I am falling apart. The animal is destroying me.
Life is crap. The animal and I am starting to form a sickening bond with each other. I have no choice. The animal is my golden child. The animal is my Alpha and omega. I don’t want this animal. I would like him to bleed to death. I hate the animal. The animal seduces me, jumps onto my lap. The animal is licking me on the cheek. The animal is devoted to me. I stroke his head. Stroke his body. I am angry with myself. Why am I becoming attached to the animal? I must accept it. We have this bitter-sweet David and Jonathan relationship.
The animal whispered in my ear. He whispered his name. Bipolar