Bipolar Disorder Support Group
Bipolar disorder is not just a single disorder, but a category of mood disorders marked by periods of abnormally high energy and euphoria, often accompanied by bouts of clinical depression. This is the place to talk about your experience with bipolar disorder, learn from others' experiences, and find support.
**VERY HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING**
(also not going in Crisis Center because I'm not a danger to myself right now)
**also disclaimer that I rapid-cycle and go from being a happy-ass to wanting to end it all and that while this is basically my everyday personality and everyday lifestyle, I haven't actually seriously tried in I'm not certain how long**
**last trigger-warning for somewhat graphic descriptions described nonchalantly because I'm the world's worst judge of what sounds fucked-up and what doesn't
*and a disclaimer that if you are anybody but me and suicidal I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU GET HELP
This is the "ok cool dude I get it" skip-ahead point. Anyways.
Earlier today I tried to hang myself in my closet with one of those little stud belts from Hot Topic. I can't explain what pushed me to do it this time, I've strung it up, put my head into the noose section, and just stood there testing the waters for a while before talking it down many, many times before this.
My mother and I were arguing about I can't remember exactly what. It's probably a good time to mention that I started my menstrual cycle today and so my hormones are probably way stronger than normal, and making me act erratic
I had a feeling of "This (physical/mental pain) will never end. Okay. This is it."
And that I needed to go ahead and do it without putting much thought into it before I backed out yet AGAIN,
So I think of an excuse to go into my room, shut my door, knock all my clothes hangers off the closet shelf bar thing to make room, convert said belt into a noose and string it up (I won't detail this because I don't want to give anybody bad ideas), scrawl "Why? Why not." on the closet wall in pencil because I don't feel like writing out one've my usual explanation manifestos in my notebook but felt kind of stupid doing this 20 minutes after texting some friends in my usual absurdist humor joking manner,
Text 2 out of my 4 best friends, "I love you, thank you for being a great friend to me for all these years, take care." Get on facebook and tell my crush (who is turning into a much closer friend) that I love her, but in retrospect it didn't startle her *thank god* because we say "I love you" to each other all the time anyway, sometimes randomly.
And that was it. I stepped into my contraption, had a brief moment of, "Am I really gonna do this?" decided that yes, now or never, jumped, didn't die but felt the blood vessels in my eyes, head, and neck swell, which hurt, and I made this yelp sound I've never heard myself or anybody else make out of shock and pain,
I hear footsteps of my mother coming to see what that was all about,
Decide I have one last chance, try again, and this time my belt actually snaps and breaks. (fucking really? that's not just a movie plot thing?)
It all happened so fast. I was on the closet floor with a broken belt around my neck and my mother staring at me, kind of knowing what I just did but visually confirming it, which was a very long 2 seconds for me to witness,
She says she's locking me away and says, "Selfish, selfish, selfish."
And I just thought, "I just did that because I want a peaceful life and my home life sucks, and you continue to insult me and call me selfish? Don't you think I just tried playing judge, jury, and executioner of myself just now???" (not spoken aloud)
And something inside of me broke and I just wailed for the next maybe 45 minutes about how people successfully commit suicide all the time who could've gone on to live a happy, successful life, and I will never have that and I failed
I was just grieving about how I fucked up my one-way ticket out
And going all Bright Eyes/Hawthorne Heights/Sunny Day Real Estate-esque about how all the good ones die and my stupid ass is still here
(It sounds disgustingly melodramatic as I recount it now, I'm sure some of you are understandably rolling your eyes, but I felt at the time what I can only describe as genuine grief over what a fucking tragedy that is to me, and if not about me, that so many of the good ones DO die)
And (let's remember that I float between agnostic and atheist, but definitely never abrahamic religion) I started wailing about how god hates me and my mother (who's quietly Christian) said, "He loves you, that's why you're still here."
And I took a whole bunch of (non-lethal doses) of medicine because I just wanted to go to sleep, I was so embarrassed that that'd just failed
And I felt like shit anyways and deeply craved a sense of peaceful normalcy more than ever, and over-medicating (Which I only seriously do when I'm under serious duress) was the only thing I could think of.
But I got uncomfortably sedated, so i forced myself to wake up and eat something, which made me to where I could comfortably sleep.
And I just woke back up. And my mother and I started fighting again over my bad mental health the second I walked into her bedroom to get my "morning meds" (omeprazole for acid reflux, tylenol and some other shit for unusually bad menstrual cramps, just random stuff, shouldn't have been a big deal).
And regret sunk back in so I took a little bit of valium and I'm alright now,
But yesterday I had to argue with my mother for about an hour to get her to not call the police on me because in the States (and Georgia in particular recently) police literally shoot mentally ill people dead on-site, and even if they safely apprehended me, they'd just drag me to Georgia Regional which everybody knows is a hellhole.
So (I guess let me wrap it up and get to the point) my compromise with her yesterday was for me to get some sleep and go to my local Crisis Stabilization Unit TODAY.
Today. (Thursday) I don't want to and they're not usually helpful so I dunno if I should. I guess I should do it. I'm not partial.
So it'll probably either be that or I'll just- I'm not sure what else I'll do. I'd like to sweep it under the rug, but I know I need help.
I hope I didn't piss any of you off with my attitude. if I could have any other disposition, I would. It's just how my brain handles these things.
I haven't told a whole bunch of people. My one friend freaked out, but he knows I'm okay now. I messaged m'lady and said "Hey you might want to smoke a blunt or something first but I gotta tell you something, please don't panic" because she's highly intelligent, I mean, way smarter than me, and was in a long-term facility for 2 years and she'll know what to do. The last person I told is my friend Evan because he's a level-headed calm dude and I just kind of felt comfortable enough with him to randomly spill the beans.
I don't want attention, but I want to know how to fix myself without doing anything super drastic, because drastic measures often fail.
So yea. I guess that's that on that. Pardon my outlook on all of this, please.
(also not going in Crisis Center because I'm not a danger to myself right now)
**also disclaimer that I rapid-cycle and go from being a happy-ass to wanting to end it all and that while this is basically my everyday personality and everyday lifestyle, I haven't actually seriously tried in I'm not certain how long**
**last trigger-warning for somewhat graphic descriptions described nonchalantly because I'm the world's worst judge of what sounds fucked-up and what doesn't
*and a disclaimer that if you are anybody but me and suicidal I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU GET HELP
This is the "ok cool dude I get it" skip-ahead point. Anyways.
Earlier today I tried to hang myself in my closet with one of those little stud belts from Hot Topic. I can't explain what pushed me to do it this time, I've strung it up, put my head into the noose section, and just stood there testing the waters for a while before talking it down many, many times before this.
My mother and I were arguing about I can't remember exactly what. It's probably a good time to mention that I started my menstrual cycle today and so my hormones are probably way stronger than normal, and making me act erratic
I had a feeling of "This (physical/mental pain) will never end. Okay. This is it."
And that I needed to go ahead and do it without putting much thought into it before I backed out yet AGAIN,
So I think of an excuse to go into my room, shut my door, knock all my clothes hangers off the closet shelf bar thing to make room, convert said belt into a noose and string it up (I won't detail this because I don't want to give anybody bad ideas), scrawl "Why? Why not." on the closet wall in pencil because I don't feel like writing out one've my usual explanation manifestos in my notebook but felt kind of stupid doing this 20 minutes after texting some friends in my usual absurdist humor joking manner,
Text 2 out of my 4 best friends, "I love you, thank you for being a great friend to me for all these years, take care." Get on facebook and tell my crush (who is turning into a much closer friend) that I love her, but in retrospect it didn't startle her *thank god* because we say "I love you" to each other all the time anyway, sometimes randomly.
And that was it. I stepped into my contraption, had a brief moment of, "Am I really gonna do this?" decided that yes, now or never, jumped, didn't die but felt the blood vessels in my eyes, head, and neck swell, which hurt, and I made this yelp sound I've never heard myself or anybody else make out of shock and pain,
I hear footsteps of my mother coming to see what that was all about,
Decide I have one last chance, try again, and this time my belt actually snaps and breaks. (fucking really? that's not just a movie plot thing?)
It all happened so fast. I was on the closet floor with a broken belt around my neck and my mother staring at me, kind of knowing what I just did but visually confirming it, which was a very long 2 seconds for me to witness,
She says she's locking me away and says, "Selfish, selfish, selfish."
And I just thought, "I just did that because I want a peaceful life and my home life sucks, and you continue to insult me and call me selfish? Don't you think I just tried playing judge, jury, and executioner of myself just now???" (not spoken aloud)
And something inside of me broke and I just wailed for the next maybe 45 minutes about how people successfully commit suicide all the time who could've gone on to live a happy, successful life, and I will never have that and I failed
I was just grieving about how I fucked up my one-way ticket out
And going all Bright Eyes/Hawthorne Heights/Sunny Day Real Estate-esque about how all the good ones die and my stupid ass is still here
(It sounds disgustingly melodramatic as I recount it now, I'm sure some of you are understandably rolling your eyes, but I felt at the time what I can only describe as genuine grief over what a fucking tragedy that is to me, and if not about me, that so many of the good ones DO die)
And (let's remember that I float between agnostic and atheist, but definitely never abrahamic religion) I started wailing about how god hates me and my mother (who's quietly Christian) said, "He loves you, that's why you're still here."
And I took a whole bunch of (non-lethal doses) of medicine because I just wanted to go to sleep, I was so embarrassed that that'd just failed
And I felt like shit anyways and deeply craved a sense of peaceful normalcy more than ever, and over-medicating (Which I only seriously do when I'm under serious duress) was the only thing I could think of.
But I got uncomfortably sedated, so i forced myself to wake up and eat something, which made me to where I could comfortably sleep.
And I just woke back up. And my mother and I started fighting again over my bad mental health the second I walked into her bedroom to get my "morning meds" (omeprazole for acid reflux, tylenol and some other shit for unusually bad menstrual cramps, just random stuff, shouldn't have been a big deal).
And regret sunk back in so I took a little bit of valium and I'm alright now,
But yesterday I had to argue with my mother for about an hour to get her to not call the police on me because in the States (and Georgia in particular recently) police literally shoot mentally ill people dead on-site, and even if they safely apprehended me, they'd just drag me to Georgia Regional which everybody knows is a hellhole.
So (I guess let me wrap it up and get to the point) my compromise with her yesterday was for me to get some sleep and go to my local Crisis Stabilization Unit TODAY.
Today. (Thursday) I don't want to and they're not usually helpful so I dunno if I should. I guess I should do it. I'm not partial.
So it'll probably either be that or I'll just- I'm not sure what else I'll do. I'd like to sweep it under the rug, but I know I need help.
I hope I didn't piss any of you off with my attitude. if I could have any other disposition, I would. It's just how my brain handles these things.
I haven't told a whole bunch of people. My one friend freaked out, but he knows I'm okay now. I messaged m'lady and said "Hey you might want to smoke a blunt or something first but I gotta tell you something, please don't panic" because she's highly intelligent, I mean, way smarter than me, and was in a long-term facility for 2 years and she'll know what to do. The last person I told is my friend Evan because he's a level-headed calm dude and I just kind of felt comfortable enough with him to randomly spill the beans.
I don't want attention, but I want to know how to fix myself without doing anything super drastic, because drastic measures often fail.
So yea. I guess that's that on that. Pardon my outlook on all of this, please.
Also I thank you for your concern, Angel. Truly. You are a kind and generous soul, and I can sense that. However I am an atheist, and any inclination of spirituality I ever tangibly experience is something that I can't explain with words; and likewise, for me at least, have not been articulated adequately in existing books.
Again, I do appreciate your lovingness and kindness towards a stranger.
From my perspective however... letting god, or God, or "god" or whomever into my life will not solve my issues.
You see, because of my BPD and bipolarity I tend to ehhhh, become overzealous about things from time to time, and I've done that whole jig with religion before.
For me, it became as much of a placebo, a drug, a pipe dream as any other- I had passion for otherworldly affairs and doing right by The Man (or whomever) and took my uh, perceptions of metaphysical things too literally, too far. Way too far.
(if Christianity works for you that's cool I'm not trying to like tell you it's not the right thing or whatever I'm just kind of trying to explain why I can't get into it. If if helps you in your daily life, by all means please stick with it.)
And so it was not a practical way of life for me, the pious one, try as I might.
And so today, I don't believe an overlord would fix all my issues, soul-deep.
(in my personal opinion, I'm definitely not tryn' to start a religious debate and this isn't about that anyway) feelings originate from how we perceive thoughts, which originate from the brain.
My brain is broken, I've used substances, I'm mentally ill, I've been traumatized. So I'm very easily and randomly triggered into dysphoric depression to where,
to where I am INCONSOLABLE. Not able to be comforted by god nor friends nor friends with benefits nor lovers nor hope nor faith.
It just has to pass on its own. (the urge to like jump off a bridge or something)
Because my brain chemicals decide to jump from ecstasy to nightmarish hell to impenetrable numbness- all on their own.
But that's all of us here, right? Right.
Some worse than others, some less than others! Some rapid-cycle and some experience long periods of either mania or depression, etc.
My brain is broken because over time, if you are traumatized (being overzealous about something- such as religion, a theory, a hobby, Etc.- is a form of traumatization, too, so I've traumatized myself that way),
Over time if you are traumatized, your rewards pathways begin to alter in ways to where you can develop a hair-trigger temper (as my mum says, her silly lay terms are cute)
Or if you're me, hair-trigger suicidality!
And so basically like..... Uh..... like what I'm trying to say is that faith and god won't fix a problem that has to do with chemistry and brainstuff.
At least, not the way I see it.
But I appreciate that you prayed for me, because in your eyes it will help me. And I love you for that, that's a genuine act of kindness. So thank you. I might've said it before, but again, thank you.
UPDATE- Ky couldn't make it out so I wound up not going to my psych clinic (even though I said I would even without her- I broke that vow, I am sorry to myself and everyone here)
BUT. !!! I haven't had a major episode of wanting to fucking die in like two days,
And TWO FULL DAYS without crying because I can't simply disappear from existence is a HUGE little victory for me!!
Also I started myself back on Olanzepine- Zyprexa- because it's an antipsych and I had some semi-old pills left over from when I quit on 'em, and I really think the Zyprexa's been that little extra something I've needed to chill my brain chemicals way the hell out.
My friends have developed a coping technique for when I cry to them that I want to die and cannot stand to merely exist (I only tell a VERY FEW persons how desperately and melodramatically sad and suicidal I am on a regular basis)
Sometimes they ignore me, but I know why. They don't feed into the notion.
We have kind of this mutual understanding that it usually passes, I'll usually be both okay and alive come morningtime.
And it's lovely, because they're just kind of, "You good, man?" and I'll say yeah, and we can go on conversing fluently and pleasantly without either of us doing the whole obligatory "let's discuss the disaster that was your meltdown yesterday".
Because we both know what it was about. My brain's just, pardon my french, fucked up, and I get desperately sad and hopeless sometimes for no real reason.
(this actually isn't uncommon either)
There's even a word for it, "negative feedback loop", and it's the reason why some psychologists/therapists (particularly Cognitive-Behavioral Therapists) come off condescending when they kind of seem unphased by how dramatic people tend to sound,
They're just trying to not like.... validate your melodrama, y'know?
So I've grown to appreciate people doing this for me.
Because no matter how permanent my "I have to die" moods feel, past records indicate that they will disappear by the next day, usually.
Funny how things work out, isn't it?
I'm not sure when I'll see my pdoc next, though! Or my therapist. Actually, I don't have a therapist, I never cooperated with that (as of recently, I mean). I'm moving early July! If all goes well. [:
And I'm trying, dude. Like I get what you're saying but I'm telling you that even my most serious suicidal thoughts generally exhaust me, and then subside.
I'm taking meds. I'm trying to keep up with appointments and all that shit. Just not counseling.
Listen, I can't control my thoughts. My personality will change at the drop of a fuggin' hat, I have many different people inside of me.
My mind is out of control. It's a clinical thing, and you're right that it does require commitment to a regimen that will *hopefully* improve my mental health.
I take, in order, Vistaril (out of that for the time being), Gabapentin 300mg three times a day, Depakote 250mg (I think) twice a day, Wellbutrin 150mg once or twice a day, and I made the decision to add in Zyprexa at night (I'm using old pills that I gave up on a while back, I'm going to ask my pdoc to add it to the depakote and other shit I take.) I also have access to Seroquel and Valium for more severe episodes.
(I'm very reluctant to take Seroquel because while it's pretty effective, it makes me feel like there's an elephant on my chest and I can't breathe, plus extreme food cravings)
I mean what else are you guys wanting me to do?
I was going to go possibly inpatient, but it honestly isn't helpful, my friend broke my heart, I felt like she abandoned me (she didn't though and felt like shit about not being able to come with), and
and *now* it's been a few weeks since I did the thing with the belt. l: