Noise

One thing that is rough for me…..

When I am depressed and/or anxious, I cannot enjoy quiet. I must hear something and do something.

Example: listen to an audiobook and sketch.

Why? Because the quiet that others take for granted, that peaceful time, is a hell for me.

There is nothing to silence my mind and all the demons, with their electric-shock-like intrusive thoughts and obsessive self-hate lies taunting me. Ruling me.

Give and Take Should Actually Include the Give

I am so alone, so without hope, so far down, so gone. And no one knows because they don’t care. I can sugar coat it and say folks are busy, but truth is, when something is important to you, you make the time. I’m always there. Always trying. Always keeping in touch.

I’m trying so hard for results that I fear I will not see.

How long must a person suffer before they are allowed to say, “Hey, I gave it my absolute best, and now, I let it go.”

Am I destined to reach the point of destruction? My own personal, agonizing ground zero?

What is it I have done that others have not also done in spades? Why do I long for absolution and forgiveness when it seems fairly obvious no one would hurt if I were to cease all of my efforts? Like all of the slack, understanding and forgiveness I extend?

It is difficult to tell exactly how much a depressive state in a Bipolar cycle influences how I feel about how the other issues are going in my life. Perhaps it is something different, though.

Perhaps, at least sometimes, it is the exact opposite. Perhaps, the way I’m treated (or not treated) brings about the depressive state and continues to feed it as if it were trying to satiate the “black dog,” as depression is so often termed.

I really am tired. Not a good situation. I am not in a safe place. I think God, myself and this tablet and keyboard are the only ones who know that, but not for lack of trying to share on my part.

20170924_223747

Today, if I had not initiated conversations, however brief they were, I only would’ve chatted with my son for a few minutes because he sought me out.

Maybe I should just reciprocate and match what I’m shown…what I’m given. Maybe I should just be done and fade to black.

Maybe it’s too late.

Losing Time

I am realizing how much time I’ve lost lately. Do those of you with Mental Illness have trouble with this?

109e260cfbafc35a2c4e88da1a10a41a--quotes-on-depression-depression-bipolar

I cannot remember the time period or the goings-on, which can be hours or days. I seem to communicate very little during what I call my “lost time,” and I have no memory of most things during said time.

infinity-double-time-spiral-16922520

I cannot figure out if I’m really losing time, or extremely depressed and apathetic, or lack of sleep affects me…..

Probably (maybe) the answer is:

D) all of the above?

lost_time_by_vanleith-d4em3se

It’s Really Quite Simple

Everything is right. Is well. Family safe. Getting to know my sister again. Friends and I are talking. Household chores and errands are up to date. My husband’s new job pays a bit more. Mom is able to walk with her walker more often. My cat is health and full of shenanigans. My son is doing outstanding work at school. I’m going on a great trip in Oct.

So… why sad? Not just a little down or blue. Like sobbing, wailing, wanna give up sad.

Because that’s part of Bipolar, and the chemicals that seem delighted in saying, “Nope, not so fast.”

I feel so bad and want it over.

Haircut vs Personal Time

Again, I am left alone. Again!

My son just up and decides he wants a haircut and my husband just up and decides to take him. We were in the middle of watching a mystery show together. I was feeling a little better than I have been in the last few days and few weeks. I was not having any suicidal ideation and my muscles in my back and neck were feeling a little better.

And then they just decide and go. They don’t ask how I feel about it, if it’s okay, if I’m doing all right…..

I just want to go home. I have that feeling of wanting to go home. And as I’ve discussed before in this blog, feeling like I want to go home has been going on ever since I was first diagnosed with Bipolar and my psychotic breakdown in 2004.

I don’t know where that place is, the home for which I ache, because it certainly wasn’t a physical house I grew up in. I just want to go home. And I’m sad and tired and extremely angry now because I’m just ignored and disregarded.

Basically, I’m experiencing a Mixed Episode of Bipolar, and though I can hear myself and read these words that sound nonsensical, I still feel furious and hurt.

c93fe188f27108d9efcdf5ef19431a27.jpg

Please, families take care of each other and love each other. Please friends extend a hand and let your friends know you’re with them and you’ll do what you can, even if it’s just listening.

Listening is a huge thing and loving gesture.