Scurry Away, Black Dog, Fleas and All

Sometimes, well often if I’m being honest, I have trouble distinguishing between being tired due to autoimmune and chronic pain health issues VS being tired and not wanting to move or interact because I’m slipping into deep depression.


What I have come up with so far is this. If I am just tired and sleepy and in need of catching up, I still find things to be interesting. I still want to feel better soon so that I can re-engage sooner. I still have creative ideas. I still care about how my friends and family are doing. I still care about my appearance.

When it is the darker and uglier thing, I am apathetic and I don’t care about things as much. I hardly even care about myself, if at all. I feel lonely and alone, which are, in fact, two different things. I feel ignored and tossed aside. I feel like none of my goals and dreams can come to fruition. I feel hopeless, and I know that The Black Dog has me cornered, snarling, looming larger and larger.

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It is then that those nagging, passive suicidal whispers move from the inaccessible and hidden depths of my mind to the front of it, full-on sc, with guns blazing.

Guns. Guns? Or maybe pills? Pills tonight? Or walking into a river with heavily weighed pockets, all in an effort for escape and relief.

I’ve been taught that there are passive suicidal thoughts, as well as active suicidal plans. I’ve learned this information and terminology from healthcare providers, books and friends who suffer from the same bully that is Bipolar.

I’ll say this – passive or active – suicidal ideation is an ever-present threat for me, a sort of co-morbid illness that tags along with my Bipolar, wherever he goes.


I loathe them both and long for the day I’m free of them. Just gotta keep holding on and using all the coping strategies I’ve been taught.

That’s tiring, though. Oh, and look!

Now we’ve gone full circle, back to talking about being tired again.


And does it really matter if I’m tired due to fibromyalgia or depression? For me, no. Because they both catapult me to the same place, and I’ve got to claw my way out every time.

5 thoughts on “Scurry Away, Black Dog, Fleas and All

  1. Oh my…I just saw this. I believe this to be one of your most profound Blogs as to date….the constant wrestling with the Black Dog ! I do this too.

    I am so tired of the mind games my mind plays with me . Suicide or no suicide.

    I DO NOT want to suicide. That is not the legacy I want to leave my daughter or granddaughters , but oh my it does get tempting. Just to end the forever dragging of our souls through this hell on earth. It’s NOT so much about wanting to die …it IS about wanting the struggle to stop.

    But there is o way we can talk to a “normal” person about these thoughts …man geesh , they’d haul us off in a second….not understandng that we struggle with these thoughts almost daily …THAT IS BIPOLAR

    Liked by 1 person

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