Venting I fell for it again... (Bipolar Disorder)

[the box is empty]

I fall for it every time. Every. Fucking. Time.

I can't trust my feelings. I know the symptoms but I choose to ignore them. It felt good to not feel sad or lonely or miserable. I had been in that place for so long that I welcomed the first chance to crawl out of that pitiful hole.

A few weeks ago something changed. Suddenly I'm not tired anymore. Food tasted better. I felt like I could do anything again. I start reading again. I rosin the bow I haven't picked up in years. I go out and meet someone because, social distancing be damned, I won't get sick; I'm invincible. The SN I order arrived a couple of weeks ago. I look at the bottle like some sort of curious oddity, shrug and place it in my medicine cabinet. I don't need it anymore. I browse the forums here. I go into the CTB discussion but none of them make sense to me anymore. I'll just play the word games and carry on private conversations.

I'm better again. No, I'm not better. I'm great. I'm amazing. Everything is good again.

"Why aren't you taking the medication?"

Because I don't need it. I'm better. Why can't you fucking understand that?

"Why are you angry with me?"

Well why the fuck are you trying to kill my buzz? Who the fuck asked you. You know how miserable I've been. Let me enjoy this.

"I'm trying to help you…"

FUCK OFF!

It sounds like a pistol going off. I feel a tap on the shoulder. I hear a whisper asking me "did you miss us?"

I go to bed. I wake up thirteen hours later. I'm still tired. I look at my phone. Texts from a familiar stranger asking me where I've been and if she did anything wrong. It's not you it's me. I don't know what happened to that other version of me from a few weeks ago. Just leave me alone. Did I burn my coffee? It tastes horrible. I can't get into this book. Why does all the pitch sound off? Why even bother? What's wrong with me? I was fine. I'm hearing murmurs. Were they always this loud? I go to the medicine cabinet. A bottle marked Li2CO3. A bottle marked NaNO2. I hesitate in deciding which one to reach for. I reach out to a friend.... but there's the charred husk of a bridge which reminds me of my venom.

And we're back full circle asking the same question that brought me here in the first place. "Why go on?"

I've been playing the willful victim to my own mental illness. Again.

I just needed to get all this out.

 

[jgm63]

I fall for it every time. Every. Fucking. Time.

I can't trust my feelings. I know the symptoms but I choose to ignore them. It felt good to not feel sad or lonely or miserable. I had been in that place for so long that I welcomed the first chance to crawl out of that pitiful hole.

A few weeks ago something changed. Suddenly I'm not tired anymore. Food tasted better. I felt like I could do anything again. I start reading again. I rosin the bow I haven't picked up in years. I go out and meet someone because, social distancing be damned, I won't get sick; I'm invincible. The SN I order arrived a couple of weeks ago. I look at the bottle like some sort of curious oddity, shrug and place it in my medicine cabinet. I don't need it anymore. I browse the forums here. I go into the CTB discussion but none of them make sense to me anymore. I'll just play the word games and carry on private conversations.

I'm better again. No, I'm not better. I'm great. I'm amazing. Everything is good again.

"Why aren't you taking the medication?"

Because I don't need it. I'm better. Why can't you fucking understand that?

"Why are you angry with me?"

Well why the fuck are you trying to kill my buzz? Who the fuck asked you. You know how miserable I've been. Let me enjoy this.

"I'm trying to help you…"

FUCK OFF!

It sounds like a pistol going off. I feel a tap on the shoulder. I hear a whisper asking me "did you miss us?"

I go to bed. I wake up thirteen hours later. I'm still tired. I look at my phone. Texts from a familiar stranger asking me where I've been and if she did anything wrong. It's not you it's me. I don't know what happened to that other version of me from a few weeks ago. Just leave me alone. Did I burn my coffee? It tastes horrible. I can't get into this book. Why does all the pitch sound off? Why even bother? What's wrong with me? I was fine. I'm hearing murmurs. Were they always this loud? I go to the medicine cabinet. A bottle marked Li2CO3. A bottle marked NaNO2. I hesitate in deciding which one to reach for. I reach out to a friend.... but there's the charred husk of a bridge which reminds me of my venom.

And we're back full circle asking the same question that brought me here in the first place. "Why go on?"

I've been playing the willful victim to my own mental illness. Again.

I just needed to get all this out.

Well, one thing is certain, you're an excellent writer.
Perhaps there's a potential career there....
Or even just the potential of a creative outlet (that could lead somewhere in future ?)

 

[faust]

This actually reminded me a movie called "Matrix"
Red or a blue pill?
Red pill reveals an unpleasant truth and a blue pill makes you live in a blissful ignorance.
And we always balance between these two.
And we don't know which pill to take the other day.

 

[muffin222]

I can relate to this so much. It's a rollercoaster. You feel depressed and hopeless and then the darkness just vanishes; it's as if you were never sad at all because everything just brightens all at once. It feels miraculous, almost. Then, the wheel turns again and you're back in the "pit" as I call it :\

It's so disheartening every time

 

[jgm63]

I can relate to this so much. It's a rollercoaster. You feel depressed and hopeless and then the darkness just vanishes; it's as if you were never sad at all because everything just brightens all at once. It feels miraculous, almost. Then, the wheel turns again and you're back in the "pit" as I call it :\

It's so disheartening every time

*Eyes draw to avatar*
Hmmmmm...... TASTY !!!!!!!!

Sorry, I will read your post now.....

 

[the box is empty]

Well, one thing is certain, you're an excellent writer.
Perhaps there's a potential career there....
Or even just the potential of a creative outlet (that could lead somewhere in future ?)

Thank you. There's a book called "Touched with Fire" and it highlights how people who often suffer from mood disorders also tend to be highly creative. Many choose arts or science as their respective fields.

I can relate to this so much. It's a rollercoaster. You feel depressed and hopeless and then the darkness just vanishes; it's as if you were never sad at all because everything just brightens all at once. It feels miraculous, almost. Then, the wheel turns again and you're back in the "pit" as I call it :\

It's so disheartening every time

I saw a documentary about ECT as a treatment for bipolar disorder and when the patient came out of it the doctor asked how she was feeling. She replied she wasn't happy or sad. She didn't feel anything. The doctor said "that's normal, that's how it is for most of us all the time."

The doctor's answer there really frightened me. Is it really normal to not feel anything? Like I always thought that what I felt was normal until I was told otherwise. It really shook my perspective.

 

[muffin222]

Thank you. There's a book called "Touched with Fire" and it highlights how people who often suffer from mood disorders also tend to be highly creative. Many choose arts or science as their respective fields.


I saw a documentary about ECT as a treatment for bipolar disorder and when the patient came out of it the doctor asked how she was feeling. She replied she wasn't happy or sad. She didn't feel anything. The doctor said "that's normal, that's how it is for most of us all the time."

The doctor's answer there really frightened me. Is it really normal to not feel anything? Like I always thought that what I felt was normal until I was told otherwise. It really shook my perspective.

I would imagine most people just feel neutral, I suppose. They're not happy, but they're not sad either. They're just kind of there

 

[Oyoy]

It feels like life would be so much better if I was NEVER happy. If only I was uncomfortable from the beginning. Constant unsatisfaction would seem like a superior life. That way I would quit living in my past. Losing what I adored is torture.

Thank you for this thread.
Your wrighting is phenomenal.

 

[Otter]

*Eyes draw to avatar*
Hmmmmm...... TASTY !!!!!!!!

Sorry, I will read your post now.....

Muffins spelled backwards is what you do when you take them out of the oven! (Sorry, couldn't resist)

 

[jgm63]

Muffins spelled backwards is what you do when you take them out of the oven! (Sorry, couldn't resist)

Brilliant ! Never noticed that before....
Very clever, LOL

FAR TOO CLEVER IN FACT.....
YOU MUST GO AND SIT ON THE NAUGHTY STEP FOR TWENTY MINUTES !!

 

[Deleted member 1465]

That sounds horribly characteristic of several people I've known on here with bipolar. That must be so incredibly hard to deal with; knowing you can't trust your feelings but not caring cuz that's how you feel in the moment. I've no idea how I'd deal with that.

And yes, an admirable way of writing that would turn itself well to fiction, I noticed that too.

 

[ghostlysoap]

Your post is VERY accurate. At least I relate to it 100%. Bipolar has been the bane of my existence for most of my adult life. I hate it. There are periods in which I feel human and others in which i just feel like utter death and some days I just don't even want to move when I wake up.