Manic Panic, Part Two

DISCLAIMER:

There are triggers in this blog. In this one, I open up, am vulnerable, and am raw about certain mental health issues such as self harm. If you struggle with this, or think you might, PLEASE do not read without a guardian or someone to be with you. I love you! Me sharing this is to help others as well as myself. I do not want anyone to ever be alone. I am NOT a therapist. Please use caution in reading. Thank you. You are needed and loved. I love you!

I remember telling my friend, and pulling her into my other friend’s kitchen, and telling her that I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder that day. I was relieved, I was glad someone else saw it, and I was reassured that I knew it already, but as the day went by, the sadness creeped in.

I started to think about the rejection I had encountered and the abandonment in my life. And this was another reason someone couldn’t love me.

I’ve always been an extreme person, an irrational person, intense. It is apart of my personality and now we know, it is confirmed, that it is apart of my brain chemistry and makeup.

There are different types of bipolar disorder, I have bipolar 2 disorder, which, to my knowledge, deals with more of the depression and not so much of the mania. Or at least the mania isn’t really mania, it’s more of an “okay” state. I am not really sure, I am still figuring it all out. Again, with the unknown issue for me. I also have anxiety, so therefore, it is hard to distinguish what is going on up there I’m Anna’s brain.

Being non-medicated and being medicated are different. I’ve heard stories of people who share the same disorder as me that have gotten off of their medication and really went on a bender. I didn’t understand at first, but I do now.

Sometimes, we need extra help other than talk through therapy. Sometimes, it’s an imbalance in our brain. And sometimes, it takes a while to get all that straightened out. And that’s to be expected, and will be okay.

I’ve had several depressive spells over the past month or two, and I mean bad. And they’re miserable. Thank God for my friends. And their concern.

I think I’ve experienced what mania is like. I think mine mirrors anxiety maybe. I know I’ve made the impulsive decisions, which is also in my personality. I’ve also done self destructive things. I have trouble focusing sometimes, obsessing.

Bipolar disorder can be a lonely disease. To me, it is one of the most fascinating things, but also, on the opposite end of the spectrum, the polar, I wouldn’t want to pass it on throughout my family tree. It can truly be miserable. As can anxiety.

I’ve had thoughts of self harm, but not really of suicide. I had never hurt myself until the other night. It was after a breakup. I went home thinking I was okay. I cried. I cried over my steering wheel. I blew my one of my best friend’s phone up. I couldn’t even find the words to tell my partner that I wasn’t okay and that I needed them, thank the good Lord I didn’t have any razor blades in my house because I would be taking care of a wound now and later, a scar. Instead of cutting myself, I burned myself, but it didn’t even really work. I was hoping for a scar, but there isn’t even a mark. But there is an emotional slash in my tire. And I did that. What a f*cking shame.

My therapist told me that I need several friends that I can come to when I’m feeling low and I’m feeling like I could get to that point. Often times, I can feel when I’m getting close to a depressive spell. I’ve prevented one before. Those two I mentioned above, were when I woke up in the morning. The last one I had was caused by an event and it was more of an upset rather than a depressed.

Cutting can be an anxiety issue or a depression issue. From what I’ve read on Google, it is a way to release such great emotional pain.

I’ve got so much going for me. But I lack self love, self care, self respect, the freedom to be fully be okay alone. The motivation. The impulse control. I’m an empath, hell, I can barely keep my emotions in order. And I’ve been through SO MUCH to be almost 26. It feels like there isn’t anyone that can understand my pain. And I need to accept that. I told one of my best friends last night that I don’t feel like anyone else understands how I feel. And I think as time is passing on, I am starting to accept that. It is very much so in my personality type to be heard, so that is a challenge. And not having that reassurance from people is also challenging because unfortunately, I am a people person and an extrovert. But thankfully, I have introverted tendencies. One of my biggest priorities in life are my relationships. There are people that will admire it, but will never understand. And that’s great. At least they care enough to be there and try. It’s the thought that counts, right? Isn’t that what they say? It’s truth. I also feel like everything about me fights my “happiness.” I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again, I have to anchor myself.

“She’s bipolar,” I can hear it now. I can see the look on people’s faces, that scary look. Bipolar disorder has a stigma attached to it, when in reality, it’s a beautiful disease.

I come off as a very strong person, and I am, but often, I feel like I’m going to break, but I never do. I joke about my last marble rolling around in my head, but I will never let anything or anyone break me. We have to have our own backs, we must love fully. We must trust God. We must accept ourselves, because, God does. Fully. I am a wild card. You never know what to expect from me. That’s what’s so appealing about me, I have a lot to offer the world. And I’m different. But what does the world or what do you have to offer me? Who deserves a spot?

A