The great migration…

Posted: May 8, 2013 in A Step in the Journey
Tags: , , , , , ,

I was diagnosed at age 16 with bipolar disorder.  I don’t know about you, but what teenager isn’t bipolar?  Fucking doctors, I swear.  Sure, I have my ups and downs, but who doesn’t?  That has all changed in the last few months.  I am starting to believe that I might actually be bipolar.  If not that, then at least depressed.

The last week has been the worst in my life.  I admitted to my best friend that I was in love with him, to a very resounding, “but I like us the way we are.”  *Ouch* talk about not being the response you’re looking for.  Add to the fact that we’re having a baby together and he insists it’s just hormones, and I am one confused, hurt, and desperate person.

 

How all that lead to me creating this blog is an interesting story.  I have been so locked in on myself and how I could misjudge our friendship, that I wasn’t paying attention to the world around me.  I was pulling so much anxiety, hurt, and anger into my chest that it felt (and still does sometimes) that there was a black hole swallowing me up.  I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t smile, I couldn’t even try.  I was only able to sleep for an hour or two at a time, and the slightest things made me cry and just wish for the nothingness of space.  I no longer wanted this baby.  Why would I want to be forever tied to someone who cared so little for me?  Why would I want to see him happy with someone else when I knew that no matter what I did, I would never be good enough for him?  Even sitting here remembering the worst of those feelings is making me teary eyed.

This, of course, led me to shout, “I wish I could just sleep and never wake up.”  That sounds dangerously like a suicidal wish… Trust me, it’s not.  I wasn’t even close to that yet.  The more and more I thought like that, the worse I felt about everything else.  I longed to drink it all away.  I could see a line of cocaine whispering to me, “Come on, I’ll make you numb.”  There didn’t seem to be any other answer and it felt as if everything else was tumbling the same way my friendship was, which I was only making worse.

Soon, I was wishing for death.  I opened a private browsing window and Googled “quick suicide.”  So many options, but none that wouldn’t leave something for the people I loved to have to physically deal with.  I started thinking about just getting into my car and driving until I ran out of gas and then walking until I couldn’t anymore.

Finally, I came across a website that said yes, you can be depressed, and yes, it is a chemical imbalance.  But most importantly, it said yes, you can change this if you want.  I didn’t want to admit to anyone how little I cared about anything anymore, so I couldn’t exactly talk to anyone, but it seemed here was a way that I could take some baby steps that would back me off of that ledge.

The site said a lot, (here’s the link to it: Take Charge of Your Brain).  But the one thing that stuck out for me was the “Green Frog” rule.  The article says, “The best way to think another thought instead of a depressive thought is to use the simple cognitive behavioral technique called ‘brainswitching.’  Choose any neutral or nonsense thought, in advance, to have ‘at the ready’ to substitute for any depressive thought that pops up. When you’re depressed, you’re in too much pain to think one up.”

“Green frog” was one of the samples, and frogs being my favorite animal, seemed natural.  I rolled my eyes, but tried it anyways.  I just kept repeating green frog over and over until I stopped feeling the tears cascading down my cheeks.  I couldn’t believe that it worked.  It seemed that my thoughts were so strong, but these 2 simple words pushed all of those “I am worthless” and “Why does it even matter if I’m here” thoughts away.

They came back as soon as I stopped, but I now knew that when it was all to much to take, I could get rid of them long enough to grasp reality again.  I’m not saying that I’m all better.  I’m still bleary eyed, hurting, and most of the time, ready to just give up.  But I know that it isn’t going to last forever.  I know that I will eventually not feel this way, and I know that even if that friend and I never speak again except about the baby, I am a worthy person, baggage and all.

I also decided that it was probably a good idea to document my struggle.  I know there are plenty of blogs out there that help with suicidal tendencies, hotlines, doctors, and so on and so forth.  But, sometimes we don’t want advice.  Sometimes we just need someone to tell us, “I have been where you are.  This is what I did.  I am not ‘cured’ but I am alive.”  I hope that my journey can help you on yours.  I am still learning, though and I am always needing “cheerleaders.”  If I have helped you in anyway, let me know.  I would love to hear from all of you.  And keep checking back with me, we can go on this journey together.  Let’s make each other accountable for our own happiness.

Until next time…remember to breathe, even if it’s just to scream

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Comments
  1. Anonymous says:

    Thank you. You may get criticism, mocking, and even anger from this, but I wanted to let you know that you are not alone. Thank you for showing others that we are not drama queens, but that we are hurting and simply trying.

    • iskdfine says:

      Thank you. You have no idea how much your kind words mean to me. I don’t ask for a lot out of life, and when someone supports me wholeheartedly, that is more than I could ever wish for. I think people forget how much a few words can mean, for better or worse.

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