I’ll let you in if you promise you don’t cringe when I tell you what I’m really thinking.
I’ll let you in if you promise you don’t run when I say things that are frightening.
I’ll let you in if you promise you will love me, despite the many flaws I bare.
I’ll let you in if you promise you will stand by me and tell me it’s going to be okay, even if you’re not sure it’s going to be.
I’ll let you in if you promise you will wipe my tears and not judge me for my sick, sad thoughts.
I’ll let you in.
Just promise you won’t break my heart like the others.
It’s just me against the world.
No one is going to save me. I don’t want to be saved. I want to be a fighter. I want to take my disorders and show them who is really boss here. I want to tackle my current state of depression head on and beat it. I’m going to have to try my hardest to win the day. Life has a tendency of throwing shit at me, but I can’t let that bother me anymore. I’m going to take on the fucking world. One step at a time. It may be a slow and gruelling process, but I’m going to achieve greatness. For “greatness is in the eye of the beholder.”
A dear friend of mine told me I need to find the thing that keeps me going, mentally.
For her, she finds solace in exercise such as yoga.
I have tried yoga and wish that it had the great effect on me that it generally has on people – but it didn’t. I did feel calm afterwards, however during, I was in a world of pain (I have bad hip flexors) and in constant doubt of my technique and such. Which was sort of an anxious/depressive feeling; the very things I’m trying to avoid.
I often write in order to feel somewhat at peace, but I’ve been lacking inspiration whilst feeling numb and often do even when I’m feeling good. And then there’s the self judgement. Oh, the self judgement. I often wonder if what I’ve written is just utter nonsense from my cluttered little brain. I hope that is not the case, but it certainly could be.
I don’t know what to try next. I’m not particularly good at art so I’m critical of that as well.
And I guess I should note how angry I feel inside. Not for any reason in particular. It changes by the day and mood. I want to channel my anger into something, because some days I just feel like smashing things and punching walls. Not that I do, but the urge is ridiculous. So perhaps I could begin some sort of martial art or boxing to channel my rage – which would in turn give me something to look forward to and somewhat of a purpose.
I have always thought my purpose was another being, but my soul still wanders through the world questioning what it is I really want. So things must change, I must seek what makes me feel better that is not someone else.
Today I quit my job.
I’ve quit many jobs when my mental health has failed me. But never like this.
Today I went into my now former place of work in a very anxious state. I asked to speak to a manager and was informed that he was in a meeting and I could wait if I wanted to.
Now this, my friends, is where I would usually bail. I would say “fuck this, I’m out.” and never turn up again. Maybe give them a phone call, but this was not what I did.
I sat down. I sat down for almost an hour waiting patiently – yet anxiously.
When I saw my manager I sat down with him and thanked him for giving me the opportunity to work there despite my mental health issues. I thanked him for the staff’s kind and understanding treatment that I received while employed there. I said, I need to step down from my role as I am currently in a depressive episode and need time to work on my mental health again. The manager was very nice to me about everything.
So today I am thankful, for I conquered my anxiety.
“You made me everything that I am, you called me names until I became a name, now that’s all that I understand.”
Bipolar depression has a tendency to bring you as far down as you think you could possibly go. It drags you by your feet into a dark abyss – a place that no one should ever have to experience or venture to. It imprints ideas into your brain that make you believe horrible things about yourself. It can make you feel suicidal thoughts.
It whispers in your ear. And then it shouts it. And then it grabs you by the chest with it’s claws and grips you so tight it feels like you can’t breathe. And it keeps shouting the same awful thoughts until you damn well believe them.
It’s torture, really, to be in a depressive episode. It’s torture to have Bipolar Disorder full stop. But you just have to remember that life is worth living, even when the darkness convinces you otherwise.
When you can’t even sleep away the pain because your slumber is riddled with nightmares.
When you can’t even be awake because you can’t stand the thoughts that pop into your head.
When you feel numb and want nothing more than to cry it all out, but cannot.
When your appetite fizzles out and dies.
When you lose all interest in anything and everything but running away from your own mind.
All of that, is when you have to start to save your own life. If you can gather the strength, or the will.
I am a person with a kind soul. At times, I may be fierce, but for the most part – I am a nice person. I go out of my way to make others feel good. Every single day. I try not to criticise or judge others, as I’m not in their shoes and I try to find the good in everyone.
However, I have a critic; and that critic is myself.
It’s truly sad the way I treat myself. I hate on aspects of myself I used to love. I bring myself down. Focus on my faults and the negatives. I insult myself. Tear my appearance apart. Basically, I have a bully and it’s me.
I don’t think there is anything anyone could say to me that breaks my heart more than the things I say to myself.
Not good enough.
No one would dare to say these things to me because I would never say things like this to anyone but myself.
I don’t know where I’m going with this.
I just know I need to change.