Bad Day
I grab the gun from the bed
Tossing it across the room
Fighting him until I am sore the next day
To keep him from getting to it before I do
To keep him from unlocking the case
And equipping the chamber
With his last bad day.
depression
Don’t Touch My Shine
I
don’t take my medications like I’m supposed to. My bipolar disorder is
mild, and the medications (some of them) are expensive. At least the
ones without the ridiculous side effects. So I split pills into pieces,
and I skip days. Sometimes too many days. I hate them, but I know I’m
going to spend the rest of my life taking them, even if I skip days and
take less than I’m supposed to.
And I’ll have days where I feel
like I can accomplish anything. I’ll make plans for the future like
going back to school. And come up with cool painting projects that I’ll
never finish. And post forty Facebook posts in a span of two hours
because everything is funny and beautiful and I want to share the things
I enjoy with the people I enjoy.
And sometimes, sometimes on
that very same day, I struggle to wake up or stay awake. And I’m too
complacent in doing nothing to even play a video game or watch a movie.
And nothing makes me feel good. Nothing makes me feel. And I realize
that I’ve been making goals and plans and I’m avoiding time alone, and
oh good gods I’m in over my head.
And I feel too much and nothing
at all, all at the same time. I cry at videos of good things happening
to people and animals on the internet. And I drown in my bitterness of
not being able to change situations that I’d like to improve in my life.
And I worry about the memories my children will have of me when they
are older because I’m not good at expressing joy… Or feeling it.
I get mad at myself for not singing and dancing because I’ve let
traumatic situations & abusive people allow me to shrink in shame
instead of embracing my shine.
And while I don’t have suicidal
ideation anymore (I’ll have to stay off meds a while for that to come
back), I sometimes want to disappear and not tell anyone where I’m
going. And wonder what, if anything, could truly make me HAPPY.
I’m sometimes too honest about things, but there is also so much that is
bottled up inside that sometimes my body literally physically aches
from the stress and anxiety. My sternum feels like it’s going to
implode.
And I can’t cope with my own mental illness, but I’m
also supposed to deal with a household full of people also struggling
with their own demons.
So I wonder what my breaking point is while at the same time refusing to give up, and it’s fucking exhausting.
And today is one of those days where everything feels too heavy. But
it’s okay because this year I am going to sing and dance, and my shine
is mine, and I’m going to fight people who try to steal the little bit
of joy that I do possess because it is precious, and it’s no one else’s
to take.
Boisterous
He is not a mean drunk.
He is a boisterous drinker,
accidentally hurtful with careless words
and wandering eyes and hands.
I fish for compliments
and reel in jokes.
He loves fat, ugly women.
And I feel a little less worthy of self-love
each time I hear him say so.
But I remind myself that I chose [I choose] this life
and that this loud drunk man having fun
is my closest friend.
Even though he doesn’t know me all that well
despite the years
Despite my attempts to show him.
He falls asleep the second he hits a pillow.
And I lay in bed knowing that
he’ll wake me up for love in the morning
And I’ll go to the bathroom to quietly cry.
Because I am. So. Tired.
I had a long chat with an old friend this week. The conversation began
with me telling her about how depressed I was. We talked about our jobs
(she also works at my company, which we both love), about growing up and
developing goals in life, and just caught up on everyday stuff. The
conversation ended with her telling me that she loved my positive
attitude, and depressed or not, our chat made her feel better (me too).
I reminded her that I’ve been dealing with this depression stuff
for a quarter of a century at this point (I mean, it started when I was ten for fucks sake), and one of the things I’ve
learned in that time is that I can’t fix the depression… but I can do
things like make sure to stick with my meds, take a little time for
myself every now and then, find things to laugh about, and try to keep a
positive outlook. It won’t cure my ailment, but it’ll make it easier
to bear.
It’s so easy to let the depression suck you into a black
hole of despair, and trying to stay positive can be a little bit tiring,
but you HAVE to. You have to keep hope. You have to laugh, even if
it’s only for a few seconds here and there. You have to keep good people around you
and have a job that you enjoy. You HAVE to TRY. Or the disease wins.
I
felt like crap today, but I got a lot done. I wasn’t necessarily
pretending to be in a good mood while shoe shopping, but my kid got some
much needed new kicks, I found a pair of purple All Stars for $25, and
we managed to find some other things on our
list. I went grocery shopping. I
listed some paintings on Etsy. And I helped the SO with a kick-ass
dinner. I even did the dishes (you know, loaded the machine) after
dinner. I’m exhausted, and I’ve fought back tears a few times today…
but I feel like I accomplished so much. Tomorrow I have to finish
putting away Christmas crap, but I’ll have the rest of the day to paint
and/or just chill.
#actuallybipolar #notgonnaletitwin #kicktheSADtothecurb #ievendidthedishestoday
I had a long chat with an old friend this week. The conversation began
with me telling her about how depressed I was. We talked about our jobs
(she also works at my company, which we both love), about growing up and
developing goals in life, and just caught up on everyday stuff. The
conversation ended with her telling me that she loved my positive
attitude, and depressed or not, our chat made her feel better (me too).
I reminded her that I’ve been dealing with this depression stuff
for a quarter of a century at this point (I mean, it started when I was ten for fucks sake), and one of the things I’ve
learned in that time is that I can’t fix the depression… but I can do
things like make sure to stick with my meds, take a little time for
myself every now and then, find things to laugh about, and try to keep a
positive outlook. It won’t cure my ailment, but it’ll make it easier
to bear.
It’s so easy to let the depression suck you into a black
hole of despair, and trying to stay positive can be a little bit tiring,
but you HAVE to. You have to keep hope. You have to laugh, even if
it’s only for a few seconds here and there. You have to keep good people around you
and have a job that you enjoy. You HAVE to TRY. Or the disease wins.
I
felt like crap today, but I got a lot done. I wasn’t necessarily
pretending to be in a good mood while shoe shopping, but my kid got some
much needed new kicks, I found a pair of purple All Stars for $25, and
we managed to find some other things on our
list. I went grocery shopping. I
listed some paintings on Etsy. And I helped the SO with a kick-ass
dinner. I even did the dishes (you know, loaded the machine) after
dinner. I’m exhausted, and I’ve fought back tears a few times today…
but I feel like I accomplished so much. Tomorrow I have to finish
putting away Christmas crap, but I’ll have the rest of the day to paint
and/or just chill.
#actuallybipolar #notgonnaletitwin #kicktheSADtothecurb #ievendidthedishestoday
2015 was the year of learning to just STFU and keep unnecessary comments to myself. The year of friends becoming enemies. Of taking a dive into a new job. Of $700 per month anti-psychotics that don’t really do much to curb depression. Of piling up more debt than intended. Of losing people, not only to anger but also to anxiety. Of a desperate need for companionship combined with the deafening voice of misanthropy. It was a year of learning to be less critical. Of trying to accept things that cannot be changed, not easily if at all. Dead, starving garden plats. Of shaving my head. Of growing my hair. 2015 was a hard year. Today was a hard day. Resolutions won’t make it any better. All I can do is remember to take things one day at a time. Remember that just because today was bad it doesn’t mean tomorrow will be. Remember to say, “I’m sorry.” Remember that everything is not my fault, even if some things are. Remember to take a deep breath every now and then. To keep breathing. Even when it hurts.
2015 was the year of learning to just STFU and keep unnecessary comments to myself. The year of friends becoming enemies. Of taking a dive into a new job. Of $700 per month anti-psychotics that don’t really do much to curb depression. Of piling up more debt than intended. Of losing people, not only to anger but also to anxiety. Of a desperate need for companionship combined with the deafening voice of misanthropy. It was a year of learning to be less critical. Of trying to accept things that cannot be changed, not easily if at all. Dead, starving garden plats. Of shaving my head. Of growing my hair. 2015 was a hard year. Today was a hard day. Resolutions won’t make it any better. All I can do is remember to take things one day at a time. Remember that just because today was bad it doesn’t mean tomorrow will be. Remember to say, “I’m sorry.” Remember that everything is not my fault, even if some things are. Remember to take a deep breath every now and then. To keep breathing. Even when it hurts.
Depression turns you into a series of nouns, without the adjectives and without the verbs. You don’t remember where you misplaced your descriptions, your actions (under the sink with your emotions). You become: bed, shower, socks, coffee, keys, obligations.
A Series of Nouns (via aseriesofnouns)
I know a lot of creative people and perhaps by correlation I know a lot of people who struggle with depression. They have told me (and they’ve told the world) how depression sits there, implacable, and drains the color out of the world until no success or joy matters. I believe them, and it becomes increasingly evident that no matter who you are or what you’ve achieved, that depression is a good liar and can make you believe none of it matters.
I know and love too many people with depression to believe that it’s something that’s shameful to talk about or to acknowledge. I want them alive and I want them here with us. If you have depression I want you alive and here with us. Don’t let the moment take you. Don’t be afraid to get help. The people who love you want you here. Believe it.
No matter what problems you are dealing with, we want to help you find a reason to keep living. By calling 1-800-273-TALK (8255) you’ll be connected to a skilled, trained counselor at a crisis center in your area, anytime 24/7.
(via wilwheaton)
If you’ve never know the feeling of wanting to end your life, count your blessings and consider that you know someone out there who has. You never know when a kind word might make a world of difference. You never know when cruel words might be what tips the bucket. #marinate
Lots of numbers to call if you need help:
Helplines:
depression: 
1-630-482-9696
suicide: 1-800-784-8433
lifeLine: 1-800-273-8255
trevor project: 1-866-488-7386
sexuality support: 1-800-246-7743
eating disorders: 1-847-831-3438
rape and sexual assault: 1-800-656-4673
grief support: 1-650-321-5272
runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
exhale; after abortion: 1-866-4394253
Depression
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-SUICIDE (2433) – Can use in US, U.K., Canada and Singapore
Suicide Crisis Line: 1-800-999-9999
National Suicide Prevention Helpline: 1-800-273-TALK (8245)
National Adolescent Suicide Helpline: 1-800-621-4000
Postpartum Depression: 1-800-PPD-MOMS
NDMDA Depression Hotline – Support Group: 1-800-826-3632
Veterans: 1-877-VET2VET
Crisis Help Line – For Any Kind of Crisis: 1-800-233-4357
Suicide & Depression Crisis Line – Covenant House: 1-800-999-9999
Domestic Abuse
National Child Abuse Helpline: 1-800-422-4453
National Domestic Violence Crisis Line: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
National Domestic Violence Hotline (TDD:( 1-800-787-32324
Center for the Prevention of School Violence: 1-800-299-6504
Child Abuse Helpline: 1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453)
Domestic Violence Helpline: 1-800-548-2722
Healing Woman Foundation (Abuse:( 1-800-477-4111
Child Abuse Hotline Support & Information: 1-800-792-5200
Women’s Aid National Domestic Violence Helpline: (UK Only) 0345 023 468
Sexual Abuse Centre: (UK Only) 0117 935 1707
Sexual Assault Support (24/7, English & Spanish:( 1-800-223-5001
Domestic & Teen Dating Violence (English & Spanish: 1-800-992-2600
Alcohol & Drug Abuse
National Association for Children of Alcoholics: 1-888-55-4COAS (1-888-554-2627)
National Drug Abuse: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
Al-Anon/Alateen Hope & Help for young people who are the relatives & friends of a problem drinker:( 1-800-344-2666
Alcohol/Drug Abuse Hotline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
Be Sober Hotline: 1-800-BE-SOBER (1-800-237-6237)
Cocaine Help Line: 1-800-COCAINE (1-800-262-2463)
24 Hour Cocaine Support Line: 1-800-992-9239
Ecstasy Addiction: 1-800-468-6933
Marijuana Anonymous: 1-800-766-6779
Youth & Teen Hotlines
National Youth Crisis Support: 1-800-448-4663
Youth America Hotline: 1-877-YOUTHLINE (1-877-968-8454)
Covenant House Nine-Line (Teens:( 1-800-999-9999
Boys Town National: 1-800-448-3000
Teen Helpline: 1-800-400-0900
TeenLine: 1-800-522-8336
Youth Crisis Support: 1-800-448-4663 or 1-800-422-0009
Runaway Support (All Calls are Confidential:( 1-800-231-6946
Child Helpline: (UK Only) 0800 1111
Kids Helpline (Australia) 1800 55 1800
Pregnancy Hotlines
AAA Crisis Pregnancy Center: 1-800-560-0717
Pregnancy Support: 1-800-4-OPTIONS (1-800-467-8466)
Pregnancy National Helpline: 1-800-356-5761
Young Pregnant Support: 1-800 550-4900
Gay and Lesbian Hotlines
The Trevor Helpline (For homosexuality questions or problems:( 1-800-850-8078
Gay & Lesbian National Support: 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)
Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender (GLBT) Youth Support Line: 1-800-850-8078
Lesbian & Gay Switchboard: (UK Only) 0121 622 6589
Lothian Gay & Lesbian Switchboard – Scotland: (Scotland Only) 0131 556 4049
Other Hotlines
Self-Injury Support: 1-800-DONT CUT (1-800-366-8288) (www.selfinjury.com
)
Eating Disorders Awareness and Prevention: 1-800-931-2237 (Hours: 8am-noon daily, PST)
Eating Disorders Center: 1-888-236-1188
Help Finding a Therapist: 1-800-THERAPIST (1-800-843-7274)
Panic Disorder Information and Support: 1-800-64-PANIC (1-800-647-2642)
TalkZone (Peer Counselors:( 1-800-475-TALK (1-800-475-2855)
Parental Stress Hotline: 1-800-632-8188
National AIDS Helpline: (UK Only) 0800 567 123
BLACK BOX
Black Box is dumbed down, like most of what they know about bipolar disorder is directly from Wikipedia. Over simplified. Extremes without meds, everything is fine with them. Not how it works for most mentally ill people. Also, hallucinations are really uncommon in manic depression. It happens, but not to most people. Most of the first episode was literally them listing off all possible symptoms like every bipolar person has every single one of them.
She skipped one dose of her meds and within two or three hours she was in a creative Wonderland (more like the meth kicked in than her psychs wearing off). Then her wonderful boyfriend talks some sense into her (cause you know how manic people like to have others remind them that what they’re doing is wrong?), and she’s like, “Oh yeah, I SHOULD take my meds,” then she’s immediately mostly okay again.
Then she goes to work at a specialist facility and bitches about how other doctors do their jobs without getting suspended or fired for her extremely erratic behavior. Cause that’s how it works.
My understanding is most people don’t ENJOY mania/hypomania. It tends to be rather unpleasant. It’s not all sex and creativity and grandeur. It’s also confused thinking and psychosis and suicide attempts. You don’t get to act that way and be a practicing neurologist.
I’ve never had an enjoyable experience with mania. Maybe because I only have mixed episodes, but the things that it brought out were all bad. I like the up swings when I only need four or five hours of sleep. But that’s not really mania. My bpd is mild compared to most, and it’s pretty well managed with meds… and I still have a really, really hard time keeping an easy-peasy job.
The acting is mediocre and feels forced and unnatural. I gave it a shot. It’s about as horrible as I expected. Strike that. Worse than I expected.
. on We Heart It.
I’d take cake and a swimsuit that fits properly, thanks. A bike ride would help make up for the cake, and I’d still be happy and healthy, not miserable.
