Give me a tiny violin

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When people would just complain and feel sorry for themselves or have a woe is me attitude like I have been having over the last few posts one would hand play an imaginary tiny violin.

Thank you for bearing with me while having my pity party.

Well, this is my tiny violin for whining.

I read someone that family, friends and sometimes even us, cannot tell the difference between the behavior: is it the illness or just us, in my case, a little of both.

Now that I no longer have that woe is me attitude ( some me and some the illness)  all is well again (it appears to be alright now, but who knows when it will show up again)

It does create havoc for both me and the person who gets the brunt of my irritability and paranoia.  I have to hope that the other person can tell the difference, me or the illness.

I am asking the impossible.  How can they tell, when sometimes I can’t tell.  By the time I realize I am in anger or rage mode of mania, it is too late.

So far I have been forgiven but how much more can they take of behavior they do not understand?

 

No one get to ….

I love this expression of determining and letting others know what they do and do not get to say or do that is acceptable to me.

People without a mental illness diagnosis, do not get to judge my actions, labeling them as they see it or according to their perceptions.  Just ask me, maybe then you will not judge, but understand.

People without a mental illness do not get to ignore me, treating me as though I am not there by talking  about me as if I do not exist.  No, they do not get to ignore me.  No one does.  I am a force to be seen and heard.  I am here.  You do not get the right to ignore me in word or deed.

No one gets to say I am not perfect because I have a mental illness.  Do they not know a person’s mental health has nothing to do with being perfect.

People do not get to say, I am not smart.  Who determines smart anyway?  Just because a subject does not hold my attention does not mean I am not smart. More than likely it is so boring, I do not care to contribute.   Just because a person has much to say does mean what they are saying is correct.

Get the point?

No one gets to say just anything to me or treat me any kind of way, nor I to them.  We all deserve respect.

As people living with an uninvited guest: bipolar, depression, schizophrenia or any other mood disorder, we do not and will not let anyone say what they want or do what they want.

Remember:  No one gets to……

What do people not get to say or do, where you stand?

 

 

Subject jumper part 2

Dolphins In HawaiiLook closely enough and you will see me having a great time with my peers.  We are with each other to be supportive, to have fun and to join together as a family.

I am still ambitious.  I want to make sure I educate as many people as possible what bipolar really is.  Not what they think, not what the media feeds them and certainly not what people who stigmatized us tell them.

As people with mental illness we are sometimes shun by family, friends, acquaintances, co-workers or anyone who is a part of our life.  All this because they lack the knowledge and some even lack the desire to take the time to educate themselves about bipolar.

To try to understand mental illness is a beginning.

Learning about bipolar symptoms  and how to recognize them in me, is the beginning of showing me I matter and that I am a worthwhile person to you.

Going to support groups, at times attending therapy with me and even taking the time to go with me and share with my psychiatrist what you observe when I am on a certain medication,  truly makes me feel you really do care about me mentally as much as you do if I have an incurable and visible illness.

Finally, answering my call when I give the secret word that I need help because I am ascending to the top of the roller coaster of mania or rapidly descending from the top that I bypass sadness and drop into the depths of depression.  It lets me know, that as much as possible you will be there with and for me.

I am not a lazy thinker.  If I say I do not know how to do something, please do not frustrate me by continuing to ask me do it after I have repeatedly told you I do not know how.  Not only are you calling me lazy minded but a liar.

I am now offended and any good you have shown seem to make me wonder how much you really have been watching and listening to the real me.

I feel successful when I can make someone genuinely laugh or smile and for that moment allow them to forget that part of our brain is incurably sick.

It is a success to me when despite how much I unwillingly play  tug of war with sadness, I get out of the house and say to hell with sadness.

I am passionately pursuing to be a peer supporter to all.

We are a special breed of survivors.  We are all passionate about helping one another.

Who else knows how to help us best without saying a word.

 

 

Subject jumper part 1

 

Dolphins In Hawaii

Lately, I go to bed anywhere between 2 and 4 am.  I usually have to force myself to lay down.  My body is tired but my mind is racing.

I lay down and get up and lay down and get up.  I do not know how often I repeat this ritual before I finally doze off.  It is never for long.  I look at the clock and cannot believe it has only been 20- 30 minutes.  As many times as I try to stay asleep my mind will not have it.

Every morning I roll over for the final time since I laid down and I ask God what is wrong with me.  I know something is wrong but I cannot figure it out.

I fall and cannot move, I am alone.  I have seizures, I am alone.  My bed is cold and empty and I do not want to be there alone any more, but I am.

It seems as though I am always alone except for periods of time I spend with an amazing friend of mine.  No judgement, no holds barred on topics, laughter, crying, being silly and lots of chocolate.  Best time of the day, everyday.

Every good thing comes to an end sooner or later.  Temporarily or permanently.  I hope this is one of those good things that last for a while.  It is all I have to enjoy right now.

My relationship with some family members have always seemed foreign to me. By that I mean, I have always felt I was on the outside of the family dynamics I was born into, but never really felt like I was a part of it.  I know this is considered stinking thinking but it has been with me so long that I forever believe it.

I know I am loved in my head, but never in my heart.  I can never remember what it felt like to be embraced as a child, although I surely must have been.

According to the standard of others I am no longer motivated, ambitious or I am a lazy thinker and will quickly say, I do not know how to do something.  It has been said to me that I do not have confidence in who I am.

Why judge me according to your standards?

I am still motivated and ambitious. You just cannot see them because you have not realized I have changed.

end of part 1

Why don’t they see my illness?

When family and friends talk to me or about me, they keep referring to the past.  They actually expect me to be the same.

You used to be ambitious.

You used to want to start a business.

How come you were able to raise a family if you had a mental illness?

You used to be able to work.  Why can’t you work now.

On and on

Many of them do not accept that you can have an undiagnosed illness, mental or physical and function as what they call  “normal”.

By the way, who defines what normal is anyway. Who says that our brain is well and everyone who does not have a mental illness is the one with the sick brain.  I am not being funny, but who determines normal is the same to me as who determines “success”.

I had a conversation with someone and they admitted they did not see me as a person with a mental illness.  They viewed me as the way,  I was before my diagnosis.

A friend of mine answered the questions with one short sentence:

” You were on automatic pilot”

Looking back I now realize the symptoms were always there, even as a teenager.  There were bouts of depression, suicidal thoughts, decreased need for sleep and RAGE

Again, who determines normal?

They do not realize I am still ambitious, but as an advocate for mental illness, drug and alcohol abuse.

I still want to start a business: a safe haven giving people the tools to minimize relapse.

If they would accept that I have a mental illness, they would realize that the sickness was always there but we never suspected anything like a mental illness.

The final example: I had cancer at age 20.  It was there long before I was diagnosed.  Just because it had not been diagnosed, does that mean it was not there?

 

 

 

The darkness in the light

I’m siiting alone in a sunny room yet it feels terrible dark.

I messed up a relationship that had just healed and was growing.

It was not intentional. No one ever sets out to intentionally hurt someone they care about.

Lately l cry alot.  I’m beginning to feel like there is no way out except a nap for many days, hoping that the pain and self anger will be gone when l wake up

I have learned suicide is not the answer. It is permanent not only does the pain end, everything ceases including my existence

I used to say the sun was inside of us, but lately there is only the darkness of pain, loneliness and fear.

I have been trying to get the sun inside again but it is refusing to shine.lt has been blocked by a horrible darkness that comes from isolation, paranoia and shame.

Paranoia has set in again. Each time worse than the last. Sometimes it is paralyzing.

Today is the worst. I have been up since yesterday. I am afraid for the day and even more afraid of the night. Now it is dark in me even though the sun is shining.  It is worse at night because the darkness is everywhere. There is no escaping.

As l sit in this internal place of  darkness, fears grips me and l wonder, will l be able to sleep tonight or will the darkness still be there

Quick change of mind

I realize that I am just starting to get manic.  I googled Plenty of Fish and there in big letters was the story of a woman raped by a guy from POF.

Normally, things like this can and do happen in all dating sites, would be my logic and I would proceed to activate an account.

Being between mainstream and manic, I do realize there are potentially dangerous situations that can happen whether you met someone from a dating site or not.

As much as I want and need human touch, at this moment that is not a risk I am willing to take.  I hope this logical thinking stays with me throughout this ordeal.  Thoughts usually flip for me when manic.  Logic is now illogical and illogical is now logical, hence, no negative consequences, only a good time.

I usually do not even realize when I am going into mania, until it is too late.  I am already there.

Now my mind thinks, maybe I should go back and try to find one of the other ones I was already dealing with, NO thanks.

Get some type of hobby, what I don’t know.  Something that will keep my mind in check and my body will follow suit and stay in the safety zone.

Can we talk

0?????????????  about it ???????????????

The “M” word and the “H” word that goes with it,

at least it does for me.

The “M” being Mania.

The “H” being Hyper-sexual.

When I am manic, I get very hyper-sexual.   If I am not paying attention to my thoughts, by the time I realize what is happening, I am already in the danger zone: the uncontrollable, impulsive, exciting, zone that comes with mania.  My mania.

I cannot and dare not  say we all experience all the same feelings and behavior as everyone else with bipolar.

This I do know.  I am not alone in this risky behavior.  Although I do not know anyone else, I do know that there are others who go through this only later to be embarrassed by the deeds we did when in this state of mind.

Each time it comes around, I take more and more chances with no thought of consequences.  You see, everything that we once agreed were logical becomes illogical and senseless to me and that which I once thought was illogical now become logical to me.  Because my brain now tells me everything is reverse in my thinking, why would there be negative consequences?

Mania is as if my brain lifts and shifts to the front of the lobe where impulsiveness is now the ruler of my mind and my actions.

I came to the conclusion today that when my mind is focusing on something else for a period of time, I have no idea what is going on until I am inviting strangers to my house.  I am talking about men that I meet online.  Before I know it, it is another and another.  Always a different one.  I realize that this dating site is merely a pick up site and now it is a hunting ground for me.

Time would escape me and days were now weeks in my sick mind.  When I did not hear from the same man in a short period of time, I would get very irate and let him know it because he should have called sooner, my brain says.  Later, when no longer manic, I realize what I thought was weeks  were only days and months had only been weeks. It seemed as though i had lived  for months this way only to later realize it had not been that long at all.

I would get wasted at night because I had no new emails from the site thinking no one else was interested.   One night I was so wasted I sent a nasty text to this one guy (I did not know even remember what the text said when he called to confront me moments after I must have hit the send button.

I would go out of town to meet someone for the first time and not tell my family or friends where I was going.  I told one person the first time I left town.  I gave very little information and thought nothing of spending the night at a stranger’s house the first day we met.

When my brain shifts again and goes back to well, I am disgusted by my actions and vow to not repeat those actions.

I usually tell my therapist most of what goes on, but you never tell anyone everything.  You keep a little part of every story hidden from others, including yourself.

 The memories of the things I did come back at a later time and I am very upset and disgusted in the pit of my stomach with myself.  I know this is not the normal me.  I am not perfect but there are some things I normally would not do.

My therapist reminds me this is part of the illness.  I must try to remember it so I can try to self check my thoughts and movements a little better. Mostly, I try to remember it is part of the illness so that I do not get so disgusted with myself that I do not confront it.

Will I never experience hyper-sexuality again?  I honestly do not know.

I might not or it might continue as a seasonal sequel that takes a rest during certain months.

 

love to all and hopefully not judged

 

 

 

Life is totally awesme in spite of

Having a mental illness sucks, at least that is my opinion and lots of others.

Out of all the diagnoses I have had over the years, mental illness  is one of the hardest not only to accept,  but fighting it gets tiresome.  It is a never ending battle.

In spite of having a mental illness, I say, life is totally awesome.

Now, just let me explain.

I used to have a friend that was depressed 24/7.  I really felt for this friend.  I could never imagine what that must feel like.  I have a hard time going through hours (mixed episode), days or months being depressed.

Last year, when people started asking me how I was doing, I would say “life is totally awesome”.  Understandably this friend said life was not totally awesome.  No answer of encouragement came to my mind.  My friend had been living like this for years.

It was a draining relationship for both of us. This friend could not deal with my bipolar roller coaster and I could no longer handle their 24/7 depression.  My friend used to laugh at times but then told me it took an effort for them to laugh when they did.

Life is awesome to me because I feel blessed and happy to wake up  in the morning.  Then it continues because I can dress and feed and clothe myself.  It is also awesome because despite having a mental illness there are many good days.

Don’t get me wrong.  When I am depressed it is the furthest thought and comment from my lips.  Thankfully since I have been wearing the Emsam Patch (for major depressive disorder) I have had more good days of peace than days of war.

I did not enlist,but was drafted kicking and screaming.  Sometimes I still kick and scream for the battle of depression to stay its’ distance.

If I can remember to look in the mirror and say, Life is totally awesome, maybe, just maybe I can escape it or at least hold it back a little so it does not have total victory.

Finally, let me jsut say, if nothing else, waking in the morning is the start of an awesome day.

love to all

pb

 

Tears, tears, go away today

I know tears are a way of relieving pain or can be an expression of joy.

For me, many times, it is just the bipolar having it’s way at the moment.

Lately, my moments seem to be very often and I am not feeling any relief.

Sometimes I am sitting in the library and I just want to cry.  Sometimes, the tears start filling my eyes and I have to stop and breathe in and out for a minute or two.  When this doesn’t work, I have to get off the computer and leave the library.  I know the floodgate is about to open.

Some days and nights I am okay with being alone and then I begin to cry because I believe this is the way it will always be.

I tell myself I have accepted being alone, but when storms hit my life, as it does everyone, it would be great to have someone to talk with, to reassure me they are there to listen, to encourage or to just be there without either of us saying a word.  Just hold me close and let me feel your heart beating.

Recently, some things happened in my life that I did not deal with.  I did not even realize it caused me to be under stress.  When I realized how critical the incidents were, I began to cry and cry for the last few days, including today.

Some say, rain, rain, go away, come again another day.

I say tears, tears of sadness, lonesomeness, deep yearning for love: tears, tears, go away today.

Who am I kidding?  Certainly not me.  The tears may leave for a moment.  Sometimes they may be a reaction to something sad or happy.

But I know that they are mainly because of the bipolar.  I can be in a room full of people or alone watching a comedy and I just start crying.  I go into the bathroom and cry when I am out in public.

Damn this f***ing disease.  I have a number of health issues, but I think this one is the b**ch of them all.

I have cried so much this month this far, that I have already gone through a month supply of anxiety pills.  It takes twice as much to bring me back to a functioning state of mind.

What the hell.  Am I not already suffering knowing my brain is sick and will always be.  Sometimes it seems sicker than at other times, but the truth is, the sickness is always there.   And as long as it is sick there will always be tears for no reason or out of no where.

I only wish, more than no tears, is that family and friends would not consider me overly sensitive and realize it is part of the mental illness disease I have to live with everyday.

Tears of bipolar, go away and take the agonizing pain with you.  O if it were that simple.