I fight wars inside my own mind.
And one hundred percent of the time, I come out victorious.
Sometimes the wars are more gruelling than others; thoughts turned entirely against me, feelings of hopelessness and no escape.
But I emerge, and when I emerge, I am a stronger being.
The war being against myself is the most devastating part of all – to almost have two selves fighting each other, trying their hardest to get their way.
But you see, I am a fucking warrior. Nothing can stop me.
And I’m on the fucking edge, so don’t push me, I’m trying not to fall off as it is.
The anxiety is swallowing my life whole and I don’t know what to do.
I can’t breathe. I just want to fucking breathe.
The butterflies are tearing apart my stomach.
My thoughts and rapid and wild.
It’s fight or flight baby, and my body is choosing to fight all the way.
And you see, you aren’t really born strong, it’s something you learn. Sure, it’s in your soul somewhere – but you must forge your own strength, which is a seemingly difficult task for some.
Strength comes after one works towards gaining it. It does not just happen.
It’s waking up in the morning and choosing to live a life you can one day be proud of, and of course, not stopping. Not letting little things break your beautiful spirit. Carrying on with life though it may seem like it’s not worth it.
When you’re pushed down, it hurts. But what matters is that you get back up.
That is strength.
With recent events happening, I have found myself spiralling downward – quickly.
In light of this horrible state I’m in, my parents organised and booked a flight for me to go to my hometown for a while.
I’m going to spend the first few days with my family, they always make me happy and calm.
Then, once I have relaxed a bit I will start to visit friends for some play time and adventures.
I’m very excited about this trip. I think it’s just what I need at the moment.
Isn’t it funny, how one slight hiccup in life can cause, what feels like, your whole world to crash down?
I guess that’s the way of Bipolar. Being particularly sensitive to things appears to be common among those who have the disorder. Any mental disorder, really.
What is awful about all of this is the simple fact that you can constantly be brought down by tiny little events.
Recently, one of these small events took me from feeling happy to downright depressed.
So how do you cope with small, or big, events causing shifts in your mood?
In other words, how do you gain faith back in humanity when it is constantly crushing you?
How I wish I could truly believe, with all my heart and soul, that things would get better.
Minor setbacks cause major repercussions in my world.
A depressive episode is not what I want right now, I know it’s never what you want, but I can usually handle myself.
And I’m quite sad to say, that this time.. I don’t think I can handle this.
This time, I need someone to save me, rather than me doing it, because I’m weak and I’m just so very sad to the core.
I’m sick of my constant pain and no answers as to why my health is so bad.
I’m sick of horrible humans bringing me down.
I’m sick of Bipolar taking me so high up then crashing down.
I’m just sick of it.
Enough was enough
She had to let it all out
It was whether she wanted to or not
Life was simply just too much
She needed to sleep it off