Difficult to know how to act when it feels as though you’ve been stripped of everything you once were.
So hard, that normality seems like a distant illusion – or maybe a farfetched dream of sorts.
To look in the mirror and see the face of pain, that is a soul crushing act, for you don’t see you anymore. Just a faint speck of you, masked by the shell of a terribly sad human being.
And when you spend so much time on edge in fight or flight mode, it’s almost impossible to feel as if you’ll ever be alright again.
Sometimes I ponder a life free from Bipolar Disorder.
There is a certain type of shackle that holds you tighter than you ever thought imaginable, almost suffocating you with every single breath – and it comes along with Bipolar depression.
There’s also beautiful, brilliant and downright mindblowing experiences had when manic. They’re so euphoric that you feel limitless. Alas, Mania always crashes or switches it’s way into severe irritability and irrationality.
I haven’t found my in between within this disorder. I can confidently say that I have never felt happiness for more than a fleeting moment. Instead, my breaks between episodes are just a state of numbness. I don’t know what is happening to me – so I stop caring for myself. However, one day.. I will find my in between, and when I do – life will never be the same again.
With dignity stripped entirely, I uttered the words I never thought would come out of my trembling mouth.
But there I was. Saying the worst of the worst, and my mind was just.. confused.
How could anyone break trust in such a way that it completely and utterly ruins another human being?
I didn’t think about revenge. I never thought about anything but the fact that my heart had been smashed into a million fucking sharp pieces and my brain had begun to play the tricks of PTSD on me.
I was just always trying to wrap my head around the whole situation.
But now.. things are different now.
I am not broken.
I am healing.
I am not broken.
I am shining.
I am not broken.
I am going to be okay.
It’s taken quite a long time for it to set into my brain that I did not ask for any of this, nor do I deserve the pain I feel.
I am not a burden.
I am not worthless.
I am not ashamed.
I am not a victim of trying times, but a survivor of them. I fight relentlessly every single day of my wretched life even if I don’t particularly want to do that anymore.
I am strong.
I am resilient.
I am human.
The pain may be everlasting, but I can get through it. I always have, and I always will.
At this point in my life, I would rather feel nothing than to deal with the reality of it all.
Manic as hell means no feelings for me, or if I do happen to scrape up the ability to feel something, it is probably nonsense that passes my train of thought within seconds, so it doesn’t really bother me – to be completely honest.
When I’m not manic, it seems I am in a constant state of depression. Nothing and no one can fix the feelings and thoughts that run rampant through me. And it fucking hurts, you know?
It hurts to know that no matter how hard you try, you can’t feel what happiness really is, you can’t change what’s happened and you can’t fix yourself in the long term at all.
Every little hiccup in life snowballs into something fierce and terrifying, that I simply cannot handle, nor cope with.
So I guess I’d rather stay this way.
At what point does the madness stop?
I certainly don’t know where it began, so I do not have much faith in ever knowing the answer to this question, either.
It feels as though I am continually falling then getting up, and while I’m dusting myself off – I get kicked right back over.
It is a horrendous cycle of everlasting pain that makes me question everything.
But there will never be any answer, except that this is my life, and I must deal with it.
Although I have been depressed for as long as I can possibly remember – I am finding fleeting moments of stability, and what I assume to be happiness.
I’ve never been a happy person. Too many mental illnesses colliding all at once, too much trauma, too many let downs in general.
So when these feelings come on, I feel pride, as well.
I have been through so much, and I have never really admitted that before for the sake of not wanting to be seen as an attention seeker. But it’s time to let go.
It’s time to embrace that my life is what it is. It may be messy, it may be downright sad a lot of the time, but that’s okay. Just like it’s okay to feel this happiness, even though I’m not too sure what that feeling means yet.