Bipolar To Stay

Here is a truth rarely acknowledged, but nonetheless true. No matter what I do, where I am or who I am with, I am chronically “unhappy”, I’m depressed. The truth of the matter is that I am sick and no amount of sugar coating is going to change that. I can’t snap out of it and I won’t outgrow it. There is a part of me that will always veer towards depression, anxiety, and mania.

I can change my circumstances, but I can’t change my brain. I can only work with the clay I’ve been given…

As much as it pains me to admit it… There will continue to be days when I feel like my soul can’t go on. There will be days when I am inexplicably tired no matter what I do, and there isn’t much I can do. In the end, all that I can do, is persevere.  That’s all that is under my control. I either get back up and keep trying or I give up.

This realization is sad, and it shatters me, but it’s the truth. My world is mired in anxiety, paranoia, depression and mania. This is my reality, normalcy is simply a passing stranger I asked over for tea.

I’m so inexplicably tired. Inside my soul is so tired.


Opportunity & Family

What is it about opportunity that makes us jump with glee and tremble in fear? The juxtaposition of the contrasting feelings creating waves of adrenaline within us. What is it about the new that washes over us with a befitting respect for all that’s been had, causing us to pause, to deliberate and on occasion to stay back in the old and familiar.

I can satiate my hunger and my passion, but I’ll have to leave my mother behind. It breaks my heart. We live at odds, but I don’t know what I’d do if she were gone. We’ve finally found a middle ground and it feels selfish to move along leaving her alone. I wish my success and my dreams didn’t cause her equal loneliness. She puts up a brave front, but I know she misses having family around. What to do? I don’t know… I wish I did.

Philosophical Mumblings

I sit here lucidly dreaming of another day, a different day when life is more along the lines of what I’ve always dreamed. I truly believe that to venture forth another step forward in a new direction you must take a step back from your current heading. It is nothing less than terrifying, and you will undeniably wonder if you’ve made the right decision. Sometimes paths cross, and others they deviate, and when that happens you have to pick one and run with it.

Life is scary with it’s endless posibilities and your finite amount of time. It is a daunting endeavor whatever direction it is that you choose. If you are like me; with dreams as wide and varied at the cosmos you may deliberate a little too often and a little too deeply.

I want to swallow the world whole, there is an ever increasing array of dreams and goals, that quite frankly make my head spin.

I sometimes dream of other lives and they feel just as real as this one. My nightly dreams provide an endless supply of new endeavors, new dreams, new challenges, new passions, and new thoughts. I am hardly the person I once was, and yet, I embody her more with every passing moment.

Today, I light a fire under the passions that have laid dormant in me for the past year. I’ll try harder, I’ll believe more truly, and I’ll never let go of everything I once was, and everything I’ve ever been. I’ll pick one and run with it.

Sort of Better – Less Depressed

I can finally say that the doom and gloom that has mired my existence has slowly begun to fade away. I’m still “depressed”, but I finally believe that the good days will outweigh the bad. I never truly believed it, and I also never truly believed that I could be happy if the circumstances weren’t what I wanted, but I finally do. I’m finally okay with what I have and what I don’t have.

Some days I still wallow in self pity – others I’m exceedingly depressed – and sometimes I’m manic – but in general throughout the many variations of my mood – I’m finally okay. Do I want more from life? Yes, of course. But I’m finally okay with not getting everything I want when I want it. I’ve finally realized that there is always tomorrow to obtain what I want, and life, is not a competition, even if sometimes it feels like it.

I will say – The year has definitely begun on a better note than last year. Last year – I couldn’t even get out of bed without forcing myself. I would sleep 12-16 hours a day & work 8-10 hours a day. I had no life, and no energy. Staying awake was a painful thing to do, but here I am a year later – Doing much better – At least now I sleep normal hours and work normal hours. It’s amazing how big of a difference it makes to not feel tired 24-7, and I don’t mean regular tired – I mean depressed tired – the kind of tired where breathing takes significant effort.

Do you know how hard it is to be so depressed you can’t even function enough to stay awake? Where you feel like being comatose would give you energy? Having people tell me to shake it off – Damn- That shit was hard. You can’t shake that shit off – it’s a chemical imbalance. It’s a sickness that no one can cure – but yet everyone thinks they know how to cure it. Anyway – I got sidetracked – The point is that I feel much better than before. Much better. I don’t have more of anything – I actually have less – But I’m more accepting of where I am at – and the chemicals in my brain are letting me sleep normal hours now.

Lethargic Day

The person I am varies from day to day, and sometimes from hour to hour. I’m always the same person on the inside, but the external representation of my being varies greatly.

One day I am alive, vivacious, and passionate, and the next I am a zombie. Today I am weary and tired and I feel like a coma might do me good. I’m so very very tired. I can’t seem to exude my “normal self”, I’m more depressed today than the past few days. I am lethargic and internally beat. I just want to sleep.

Coffee Reflections – Bipolar Ramblings

I’m sitting here at my favorite coffee shop drinking my 3rd cup of coffee for the day. I look down, and I see my self harm scars on my arm and I’m not even remotely bothered. I can’t find the energy to be ashamed of what I’ve done to cope with my brain. I used to be incredibly ashamed. I’d wear long sleeve shirts or sweaters in the warmest weather just to avoid people seeing them, but now it’s just another fact of me. I’ve come to realize that my only “fault” has been my incredibly strong urge to survive at any cost and that’s not something to be ashamed about.

Is cutting healthy? No, but it’s kept me alive. It’s taken the edge off the suicidal thoughts and it’s helped release some of the toxicity of my extremely dark feelings. We’re all trying to survive and this is how I’ve managed to stay alive. My scars are no worse than tattoos. The damage is always minimal, only just enough to take the edge off, to stop the thoughts and have peace for a moment.

I’ve done whatever it takes to survive, and because I have, I am able to be here today. If I’m honest, I’m proud of my scars, those scars came from times I wanted to kill myself and chose to live. I chose life over and over and those scars remind me that I’ll keep choosing life.

People who’ve almost died are angry at people like me, they think I don’t value life, but they are wrong. I value life more than anything, I’ve lived the vast majority of my life internally battling myself. I’ve lived with a passion and reverence for life all the while having my brain urging me to end it all. I’ve lived with my brain as my worst enemy.

I live compelled to end my life while fighting and grasping for any reason to stay just another minute, another hour another portion of time. I fight for whatever portion of time I can get because I want to live more than anything else. Every day is bittersweet because a part of me will always desire that ending. I will always be torn and even so, I choose life, I choose to continue struggling with my own brain, and I can finally say I respect my struggle for what it is. Perhaps it’s a difficult struggle to comprehend, but it’s a struggle nonetheless. So today I sit enjoy this delightful third cup of coffee and I’m thankful I lived to see this moment. It’s a beautiful moment in its mundane simplicity, but it’s moments like these that I live for.

BiPolar Diet – Shock Depression

In the past two weeks I’ve lived off 4 meals and loads of coffee. When I go to eat I get the urge to vomit. Food doesn’t sound good, it sounds quite tedious and undesirable. I know I’m depressed, I’m functionally depressed. I’m still working, I’m getting shit done, and I’m talking to people, but I’m depressed, and I know it because I won’t eat. People are telling me to eat, but there is always some new excuse not to eat.

It’s not that I don’t get hungry, I do. Just last night I was starving so I drank juice and lots of water. It’s more like I can’t stomach food even if I’m hungry. I’m on a strict functionally depressed liquids only diet. If I manage to stomach any food it’s a win.

Quite frankly I wish I could maintain this approach the rest of my life. I normally can’t say no to my favorite foods, and now, my favorite foods sound revolting. I can’t be bothered to eat, and if I’m honest I love this type of depression. I know I shouldn’t enjoy being depressed, but if I have to be depressed, I’d rather it be like it is now. As the days pass, I sleep less, I eat less, and I create more. I create more written pieces and I get more work done in my employment. This type of depression leads to an extremely efficient and creative point in my life.

In other words, my body is experiencing depression brought on by the blissful denial my mind finds itself in. My body is screaming out something is wrong, but my mind is responding with denial. So, I don’t eat and I don’t sleep, but my mind is sharp and efficient. This behavior will run its course within a matter of weeks, and at the most in a month or two I’ll eat normally again.

This is my shock depression. I get this type of depression when something truly unexpected jolts me out of the norm and leads to an internal crisis. It’s another type of coping mechanism, it’s my minds desperate attempt to regain control of my life. I can’t control external factors, but I can control my sleep and food intake and that’s what my mind does when I experience shock depression.

Philosophical Monologue – Acceptance

Everything I ever wanted and everything I enjoyed, lays waste to my soul. It’s all here laid before me, and it’s all for naught. I’m destined to be chronically unhappy. I veer towards an increasing contempt of my decisions, my desires, my way of thinking and my way of being. I am my own worst enemy, and my biggest fan.

I am constantly at odds with myself. There is great love and great hatred of all that I am, all that I will myself to be, and everything I’ve ever been. There is a raging war within me, that I’m sure I will likely lose one day.

I accept the chaos that is me. I embrace the pain, the happiness, the mania, and the enduring cloud above my head. I tread through the relentless craving seducing me to end it all. I cry for myself and I walk on. I will myself forward another day further in the hope of a glimpse of the extraordinary. An extraordinary struggle for an extraordinary life.

When the days are short, and the nights are long, I hold out for the extraordinary. I do whatever it takes to stay alive:  another minute, another hour, another day. I’ll stop when my gut tells me to stop and not a minute sooner. My mind can’t be trusted, my feelings are just as erratic, but my gut, my instincts those aren’t defective.

Believe it, or not, I love myself today. I accept the solace I’ve found in the philosophical ramblings of my monologue. There is no peace to be found in others, it’s found in the monologue of your internal ramblings. External factors merely paint the landscape of the path you must take. The journey is as great or as wretched as you let it be.

Happiness is a conscious decision, it’s not a product of your environment. Remember that. I choose happiness, and I’ve also chosen agony because, it’s beautiful in it’s own right. If my internal chaos has taught me anything, it’s that balance must reign. Without agony, happiness would be dim and passionless. I feel so strongly about everything, it’s a blessing and it’s a curse, and it’s me.