Bipolar disorder; understanding the highs, the lows and the in between.
It feels like I’ve been isolated for a long time. That idea hangs in the air in front of me, a sick mix of anachronistic and truth, but always too bitter. For me, I think my fear of rejection is tied closely to my bipolar. If I can’t know from one moment to another who I’m going to be, how can you?
The stigma of living in the south with a mental illness.
The South is a much different culture than the rest of the U.S. Some might even say it is another country in comparison to the rest of the U.S. It is not a bad place. We have the best tasting food in the world, we have Mardi’s Gras, a holiday devoted to partying, and we make our sweet tea taste like syrup due to the sugar content. Southerners are kind and generous people. We always hold the door for strangers and even hold conversations with them like we have been the best of friends for years.
Bpd I've never been diagnosed with it. Maybe that's because I've never been honest with any of my psychiatrists or doctors. I'm afraid to be judged. I'm afraid of that look, or feeling of shame.
Why Does Everything Seem to Go Wrong When It’s Already Fallen Apart? Part 1
By Marchanna ‘Mars’ Bentley Can I catch a break? Was a constant question ruminating in my head for the past three months.
I knew I needed help, but I was NOT expecting this. Here I was, sitting in the Emergency Room waiting area of the hospital five minutes away from my house, waiting to be called back, my dad by my side. It was nearing midnight and I was wearing the same thing I had been wearing for several days in a row now, an oversized college t-shirt and black shorts, my usual pajamas. My mind was reeling with activity, I felt like I was literally going insane from the sleep debt I had accrued over the last five days. By this time, I had been battling with the depression part of my bipolar disorder for quite a while. I was diagnosed with the disorder at the usual time for a female: her early twenties, and now, I was several years into it at twenty-five years of age. I could usually manage the insomnia and get by with a few hours of sleep a night, but this time was different, it had gotten extraordinarily bad. I was running off of a total of twelve hours of sleep, spread out over five days. This didn’t mean that I slept for a few hours, lumped together, every day for five days. Oh no, that would have been blissful. No. This meant that I would sleep an hour here, be awake for six hours and sleep another hour there, and then be awake for another several hours, only to finally get to sleep, and sleep for barely thirty minutes. Days. It went on for days. My psychiatrist had given up on me at this point regarding the insomnia. We had tried everything: anxiety meds, sleep meds, muscle relaxers, tranquilizers, over-the-counter sleep meds, and even the more natural pathways like melatonin and meditation. Meditation never worked, my mind could never focus on my breathing long enough to settle down into a meditative state, so I considered that treatment crap-treatment. I even tried exhausting myself physically by exercising. Nothing worked. Nothing put me to sleep and kept me there long enough to get sufficient rest. My body would shut down, but not my mind, so after five days of suffering through hell, I went to the emergency room. I could not stop fidgeting and my knees just continued to bounce up and down, my feet tapping to music only I could hear. I had plenty of anxiety going on, though I didn’t know that is what it was. My thoughts were all over the place and finally, when the nurse called me in to be triaged, I said the stupidest thing I could have said in a hospital. I told her about my situation and that I was really desperate for sleep, so desperate that “I would take a whole bottle of sleeping pills to sleep if it would help, but it wouldn’t, so I wouldn’t take them.” BIG mistake.
The Different Types of Mental Illness and How to Cope With Them
Madness is a misjudged side effect of bipolar issue that accompanies its extraordinary difficulties and, as I've encountered, is all around as genuine as extreme misery.
Surfing Bipolar. Note #4
No matter your experience level, you should avoid the impact zone of the wave. But sometimes, impact is unavoidable. Uncontrollable events happen. Wipeouts happen–in surfing and in life. Huge waves come and crash down on you; they push you under the water without giving you time to catch your breath. And the moment seems to last forever.
Why Mania May Not Be As Bad As You Thought
When I first got diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I expected extremes. I didn't realize that I had already been experiencing episodes of depression and mania for years. Ever since I was a teenager, my moods were always so up and down. My parents always just said it was puberty. Comes with mood swings, right?
Scattered Brain Cells and Scattered Goals
So bipolar and the spring equinox have an interesting relationship. Bipolar is sometimes considered a circadian rhythm disorder. Over the winter, the body produces more melatonin with less sun showing. As the sunlight increases in February and March, the leftover melatonin and the signal of extra light send miscues to the bipolar mind. It manifests in increased restlessness or other mood swings. Add the time change too. Not enjoyable for anybody.
HAVING BPD IS A BLESSING IN DISGUISE
Most people don’t know why their company means a lot to me or why I obsess about them. They don’t know that the only obsessive thought that kept me alive was the dream to escape my own MOM. That thought meant the world to me. So, I sacrifice anything for it. Your company means a temporary relief from mom’s racing thoughts. All this happens unknowingly to me in my subconscious mind. I am not even aware of it till today. I don’t know if I am healing or traumatizing myself to process my trauma. Going back to the topic, mom not only traumatized me with her words but she also traumatized me with her threatening looks (also also body language). I was scared for life (natural human instinct). So, my BPD subconsciously told me “she won’t kill me. My life is not in danger. Don’t loose your mind”. I didn’t know that I have such intense BPD. I guess the severity is proportional to amount of trauma. The more trauma you have, the severe your BPD manifests itself. So, though people traumatize me (as I unknowingly see my mom in everybody), I still kept going as I also see a friend in them. The irony is that, I see both a friend and enemy at the same time. I can split that rapidly. I am both mature and immature at the same time. When mom was passing rude (or unpleasant) judgements on me, my subconscious mind tried to numb me from the pain. As a defense, I pretend to not hear certain things you say to me. You would think that I don't obey the rules. But you were not aware of the constant emptiness in me. I can't control my impulses. For regular people, eating food is like listening to music. For me, eating food meant a huge distraction to the trauma that I craved for (subconsciously). So, I eat so fast. You wouldn't understand why I eat like I was starving for 10 days.
Broken by Life
Hello and welcome to my broken mind. I implore you to understand that the sentences you are reading and the world that you are about to dive into could be triggering and even dangerous on some levels. You see, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. Every single day in my mind the world is both pure bliss and utter hell, a rainbow of emotions with no end, only extremes. Nothing is ever simple in my mind. Feeling a thirst can and will turn my brain into a tornado of unsure thoughts. Have I drunk enough water today? Should I have any more caffeine? Do I want something hot or cold? So many questions over a simple need to drink something, so I settle on the easy answer.... water. You would think that is where it ends right, Haha, you'd be wrong. Now that I have drank the water, I am completely and utterly feel let down on the fact that I had other options and failed to give them enough thought. Yet oddly enough I am proud that I took the healthier option. Now that my thirst is satisfied, I wonder, could I have taken a sweeter and more enjoyable option such as a soda. I am really not supposed to have soda, way too many calories and way too much sugar but it would have been nice for the moment.
She seemed to be such a far and distant memory... a whim, perhaps - a mirage of life - unsure that she truly existed. She was a creator, a strength of life that seemed resemble a unicorn, given the situation she had corrupted from. Unable to defect, a failure to launch...