I have been my own hero for some time now. I have fought to survive day in and day out.
I have not given into the voices and the dark temptations they bring.
There have been people to assist me along the way, and for that I am eternally grateful, but the ultimate truth in life is that the only one who can save you is yourself.
So I am here, I am fighting, and I shall continue to do so for the rest of my life.
My heart and my mind are conflicted with one another.
“Run away, girl, for you’re nothing but a burden.” the voices shout, over and over.
But my heart says the opposite. It tells me to choose life and to stay, to embrace what I’ve been given and that I am a gift.
Alas, it is the truth that the brain is the one calling the shots.
If I were one to listen to my brain, I would surely be dead by now. And that’s the sad truth of it.
My heart has done well by me, it has kept me alive and striving for anything good in life – but it is breaking under all the pressure of fighting the mind.
So what am I to do?
I’d share my story, but it’d break your damn heart.
I wouldn’t leave out any horrid details, but it’d tear you the fuck apart.
And when I share a small part, I just can’t stand the look in people’s eyes.
It’s as if they become sad, and I can see that a little piece of their soul dies.
For my story is not of glory, nor of anything good.
It’s not as if I don’t want to speak up, it’s just that I don’t think I should.
Each waking moment – a living nightmare.
And yet, I still find myself unable to share.
And just like a Phoenix,
I rose from the ashes of my past.
For I’ve learnt that you cannot let yourself burn,
all in the name of a memory.
It may still hurt me,
but it will not end me.
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.