Every day I wake up, groan and roll over in bed. I clumsily pick up my phone and open an eye to check the time. It doesn’t matter how much sleep I’ve had – I’m tired. Really tired. Unless it’s after 11 I will always try to to back to sleep. A lot of the time I get a few more hours in. I lay around in bed, scrolling through my social media accounts and doing some reading. I rarely wake up to texts besides my boyfriend so I reply to his message, if I get one, and get up. I put some clothes on and wander out into the living room to listen to some music. I’ve usually got a song in mind that I want to listen to, then afterwards I listen to music for hours. I check on my plants. Usually this is pretty disappointing as the on and off rain has sort of just killed them, revived them, and repeated. Sometimes I manage to put makeup on, but I’m running low and can’t afford more anytime soon, so a lot of the time I skip it. I play with Juno and give her pats for a lot of the time. If I get a little motivated, I clean the house. That’s been happening a bit more often lately – thank fuck. Aside from that I don’t do anything, just wait for my boyfriend to get home.
I’m in yet another rut that has been caused by Panic Disorder and Agoraphobia. At least Bipolar made life a little interesting. Mind you, I wouldn’t have said that a year and a half ago.
Today I had a major breakthrough with Panic Disorder and Agoraphobia. I went for a 15 minute walk alone.
This is the first time I’ve been able to leave the house alone in about 5 months now. I’m extremely proud of myself for this.
I had anxiety before bed about it and all morning. I almost didn’t go.
Luckily, I motivated myself to. I used what my psychologist taught me. I acknowledged the anxious thoughts, and simply pushed them away and focused on my walk.
It was really nice to feel the sun on my skin and to be able to touch nature.
On the bipolar side of things, Abilify is working very well. I feel stable. Sometimes I’m restless and can get a bit irritable but it’s mild and I can deal with it.
I was laying in bed a few nights ago thinking about how I felt. Serene. I feel like things could finally be getting a bit better.
I hope it stays this way for at least a little while.
That’s all for now,
I hope everyone is having a great day. Xx
When you’re severely mentally ill, things in your life generally change. Jobs become harder to keep. You can become overwhelmed by mental illness so much that you don’t act yourself. Sometimes you stop doing anything but staying home because you become scared and anxious.
A combination of these things together has made one thing very clear – it is very tough to manage mental illness and friendships.
Friendship is definitely a two way street, but when part of that friendship is very ill, they can’t give you much besides their company. Which they often don’t seem to enjoy with the sick version of you.
My acquaintances disappeared completely, my friends started dropping off like I’d never thought would happen.
So I got worse. In my hardest times, people left. The only thing that has always kept me carrying on is the people around me. Without them – I felt as though I was losing my purpose. I beat myself up about it constantly thinking it was all my fault until one day I really thought about it.
If my friend suddenly changed, what would I do?
If I saw them lose all their weight and become visibly unhealthy, what would I do?
If I saw them, not able to leave their house because they were too anxious to go outside, would what I do?
If they lost their job and had no money, what would I do?
If I saw them shut themselves off from the world, what would I do?
I realised how tough it really would be to deal with. How hard it would be to be friends with someone when you’re seeing them crumble before you.
But that’s not what friendship is about to me.
When someone starts to crack, you pick up their tiny pieces with them, and you glue them back together.
You don’t get mad. You don’t blame anyone. You don’t leave them. You just stick around and be a real friend, no matter how painful or difficult it is to do.
One day when they are okay again, they will hold you in higher regard than ever before. You become a part of them because you were there when they couldn’t be themselves.
The longer I go on with my demons, the larger effect they have on me.
Some are loud and in your face – so that you are forced to notice them, but I don’t believe that they are weaker because of the fact.
It’s the silent demons that are the killers. The words left unspoken. The dreams shattered. The fantasies not fulfilled. The beliefs that are too different.
They’re the ones that kill you in the end.
I always think of that day at the train station.
I replay it in my mind over again.
I wonder what all the people thought?
I wish I could have seen through their eyes.
A young woman, pacing quickly up and down the platform, click clacking her heels. She finally sat down and asked for directions. She fumbled with her ticket a lot, then did some more pacing. She lined up to speak to someone as a train arrived. She looked at the train then asked where it was going, whilst looking panicked and afraid. She ran towards the train but it left. There were a few tears rolling down her cheeks as she asked about the train – but now there was a lot. She was hyperventilating. She scrambled around her purse for her phone and made a phone call, with hands shaking the phone so much she could barely hold it. She ran down the stairs and disappeared.
I went to the train station ready for a job interview. I was very anxious and it was only getting worse. I didn’t understand the train timetable properly. I thought as hard I could while I walked up and down the platform. I thought I must look odd, so I sat down. I asked a woman for directions and she told me that the train arriving next was not mine. The train arrived and I saw the name of the line I was to be on, but still anxious and confused – I didn’t know what to do. I lined up but the train would go any second. I couldn’t breathe properly. I started to cry and ask other people what train it was, but it was too late. I started crying and hyperventilating, then people started talking to me and I just couldn’t get any words out. I was choked up. I felt like they were all staring at me. They probably were.
I was having an anxiety attack and they didn’t know it.
One goal I’d had for almost my whole life was to have my own family.
Bipolar changed this.
As time went on, I struggled more and more.
I faced challenges that most teenagers and adults don’t usually have to face. I went through treatments and medications, only to be let down every time. I got diagnosed with another mental illness.
I watched the world change. Humans are twisted. I loathed them and the society they’d created which, no doubt, would only worsen as time went on.
I questioned myself. Do I want to bring another human into this overpopulated, awful world? Do I want to potentially pass on illnesses that have stolen my life from me? Will I be able to live with myself if that happens? Will I be able to raise a child, when I haven’t even seen a purpose for my own and many other’s lives?
With that, my dream died.