Share your story.

If you have a mental illness, or someone in your life does, please consider sharing your story with me. It can be as long or short as you want it to be. It can be your entire experience or just an important part of your experience with mental illness. I have been trying to put together a post with different stories from different perspectives since the creation of this blog. Please specify if you would like me to use your first name or share it anonymously. Also include your age and, if desired, a link to your site.

Please email me your story at hopeisreal124@gmail.com

Your story might really impact someone.

Thanks everyone!

Books on bipolar: Still a better love story than Twilight

In my last post, I stated that I was going to do a recovery plan and share it here. After looking around the internet, I decided to purchase a book to guide me through the creation of my recovery plan.

After debating between two books, I decided on a book called Take Charge of Bipolar Disorder: A 4-Step Plan for You and Your Loved Ones to Manage the Illness and Create Lasting Stability. It was between that or The Bipolar Workbook: Tools for Controlling Your Mood Swings. After reading reviews, I decided the former was the best option for me. There are many other options, so if I don’t like it I’ll just try something new. I’ll update with a review after I read it. I also purchased the book The Bipolar Disorder Survival Guide, Second Edition: What You and Your Family Need to Know.

While I’m on the topic of books, I’ll share a couple that I really liked. The first bipolar-related book I bought was Loving Someone with Bipolar Disorder. Obviously, I did not purchase this book for myself. However, reading this book gave me a lot of clarity, at a rudimentary level. Reading the symptoms and explanations of bipolar disorder really hit me. Of course I had heard them all before, but reading about them in-depth opened my eyes. There were things that I thought were just aspects of my personality. Reading that book made it impossible for me to deny that I had bipolar disorder. Anyway, I think this book is excellent if your loved one(s) are having a hard time understanding your illness. I have the edition that I linked to, but there is a second edition available.

Another book that I absolutely loved is Welcome to the Jungle: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Bipolar but Were Too Freaked Out to Ask . I love this book. The author is so real and relatable. Not only will you learn about your disorder, but you’ll learn how to laugh at yourself, too. I can’t tell you how much I love this book.

Well, that’s it. Just wanted to update that my recovery plan won’t be posted as soon as I thought. I think working through a book will be much more effective than making something myself. I’ll share my thoughts on the books in about a week or so.

Edited to add:  If you have any book suggestions, please leave them in the comments below. I’m interested in any and all things related to mental illness and/or substance abuse.

God’s provision is not dependent on my attitude.

And I am so grateful for that.

When this last depression hit me, I was devastated. I felt like I was finally on my feet after so long. Then the ground just completely and unexpectedly disappeared from beneath me. I was falling down a pit and had no idea how far down the bottom was. I have seen my rock bottom. At least what I hope to be my rock bottom. I was so afraid that that is where I was headed again, and I wasn’t sure if I could survive it for a second time.

My mom came over in the mornings and after nap time to help with my kids. I honestly have no idea what I would do without her. The blessings she pours into my life are immeasurable.

One day, after a few weeks (I think?) of suffering this depressive episode, my mom was unable to come back after the kids’ naps. I was panicked. The last time I was left on my own for the day, I ended up passing out on the couch and waking up at 5:30pm. The kids get up at 3:00-3:30. This time, I managed to stay  awake, and at 3:00, I got them up from their naps. After changing their diapers, making a bottle for Rory and a snack for Laney, cleaning up, etc. I realized something pretty awesome:  It was easy. I didn’t just survive it, but it was easy. I was literally excited. The next day I felt about the same, and the day after, even better. Now I’m back to the daily grind of breakfast, lunch, dinner, laundry, cleaning (well, as much as I normally do), diaper changes, reading stories, singing songs, playing pretend, bath time, cuddling, grocery shopping, keeping up with my full-time class load, and all of the other things that keep me busy

Dinner at the Russell’s!

nearly every second of every day. And I absolutely love it. I’ve even managed to keep up with our new family practice:  Dinner around the table together, every night. It feels amazing to feel like myself again! I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d ever feel okay. Probably dramatic for a depression that lasted a few weeks, but after such a recent depression that lasted month after month after month, I was scared. But I put my trust in God. At times, I lost my sense of hope. But He didn’t ever, ever leave my side. He kept me above the scary, suicidal, bottom and eventually pulled me out of it entirely. Even though I didn’t think it would happen. But God didn’t need me to be strong and hold on to hope. He knew I couldn’t at that point. That was okay with Him, because He knew that everything would be okay. And I’m glad I went through this most recent depression. Honestly. If you didn’t think I was crazy before, you must now.

If you would have told me during this episode that there might be a reason for it, or that I might learn something from it, I would have been extremely annoyed and maybe even hurt. It’s easy to fall into the pity-party trap. But there are indeed things that I have learned or that have been solidified for me. Here are some of the things that this most recent experience has taught me:

1. I am so blessed to have a strong support team.
This isn’t something new that I’ve learned, but it was cemented in my heart and mind even further during this time. My family is so supportive, caring, and understanding. Not everyone has this, and I never want to take it for granted. Of course, this was very apparent in the long eight months that I was very sick. But this time really hit me differently. They had all been through so much already because of my mental illness. Despite that, they were all there to help and support me the second things got bad again. I feel so secure and safe knowing that, no matter what, I have an absolutely amazing husband, mom, and other family members that are there for me, through thick and thin.

2. I need to call my psychiatrist at the first sign of things going wrong.
“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results.” This quote has been credited to Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, Albert Einstein, Benjamin Franklin, a Chinese proverb, and probably a bunch of other inaccurate sources. I don’t really care who said it. I find it to be a stupid and annoying cliché. However, I do believe that in most cases, doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting things to change is fairly stupid as well. Other than in the instance of perseverance, of course. But when I was depressed each and every day, and kept waiting for things to get better, that wasn’t perseverance; that was stupid. I am confident that increasing my antidepressant is what helped pull me out of the rut. If I would have called earlier on, I might have saved myself a lot of time spent feeling like shit.

3. I cannot rely on medication alone.
This is a big one for me. Medication and therapy, medication and therapy, medication and therapy. My mental health has solely revolved around those two things. The most important thing I have learned is that if I continue to rely on only these things, I will always be blindsided by my mood swings and feel completely out of control. So I’m going to create a WRAP (Wellness Recovery Action Plan), or something similar to it. I’ll post my WRAP, or whatever action plan I decide to use, here on my blog within the next couple of days. Perhaps tomorrow. I don’t want to put off creating this plan any longer. I’ve come to the realization that being 100% proactive about my illness is the only way I’m going to survive it, seriously. Not 76% or 98%, but fully, completely responsible for doing everything in my power to stay as healthy as I can. Of course there will be times that, despite my best efforts, my illness will rear its ugly head full-force. But I believe that will happen every time I have an episode unless I actively take part in my own mental health. I can’t put it all on a therapist or a pill. This realization was so huge for me; it gave me back a sense of control that bipolar disorder had robbed from me. Not that I can control my illness entirely, but I can control my life and how I respond to my mood swings. Do I lay in bed and think about dying the next time I feel depressed, or do I read through my action plan and employ the things that I know help me feel a bit better? Of course I’d choose the latter. Before, I didn’t have another option; there was option 1 and that was it. But now I’m giving myself the choice. And that is quite empowering.

Okay, well, I’m tired as hell. I’ll post that action plan as soon as I create it. Please, if you have an action plan of your own, or just things that you implement in your life that help you during a depressed/manic/mixed/whatever episode, please comment below and share what helps you!

Remember what we are fighting for.

Statistics can be staggering. They can open eyes and illustrate how many people are affected by mental illness. But, in my opinion, personal stories are so much more powerful. There are faces to these numbers. Every single one is person; a partner, a child, a sibling, a parent, a friend. Real people suffering every day.

I’d like to share a blog with you. First, I need to express why I find this particular blog to be so exceptional. It is run by the family of Mark Tisdale, who took his own life on October 8, 2013, on his 29th birthday. Yes, you read that right. His family suffered this tragic loss only one month ago, and created a site to share his story and join the cause of suicide prevention. How incredible is that? In the midst of such a recent, devastating loss, they are reaching out to others. It’s just phenomenal.

Here’s an excerpt from the post entitled “Remembering Mark”:

“Mark…was frightened by the fact that he was losing control of his mind. It was only during the last few months of his life that he struggled, due to this loss of inner control, to share his happiness with others. He spent a fair amount of time with us, his family – usually in intimate settings – and he became increasingly withdrawn from anyone outside of our inner circle. He was someone who didn’t want to bring his friends down (he was usually the one picking them up), and once he lost the ability to hide his pain from the world, that was it. He no longer resembled that magnetic spirit at which we’d marveled for so many years.

It was evident that something was wrong – we could see that – but we weren’t privy to all of Mark’s pain. We’re guessing much of his inner turmoil and confusion was locked up somewhere. He was someone riddled with shame and guilt. He often expressed frustration with himself, saying, “What do I have to be sad about? My life isn’t so bad.” But there was more to it than that, so much more (which we hope to explore as this site grows and becomes more than just a memorial to Mark).

Our last face-to-face exchanges with Mark occurred the night before he took his life. That night, he assured us he would finally commit to getting serious help, something with which he’d only dabbled. Although he had always been averse to the idea of taking medicine full time, he told my father he would give it a go. The medicine – an antidepressant designed to quiet the mind and calm the nerves – was ready for him to pick up the next day. Sadly, he never got it. For whatever reason, he’d made up his mind – probably during that last in a long string of sleepless nights – that he needed to take his own life. He must have imagined nothing would really fix him.”

Check out the blog yourself. They are asking for people to share their stories regarding suicide; if you have a personal testimony, consider sharing it there. I was just really moved by this blog and by the incredible strength of this family. Like I said, it’s so important to realize that the statistics are not just numbers. Stories like this remind us that those “numbers” are real people with real loved ones.

Click here to read the blog, The Mark Fund.

 

Blow up your comfort zone.

I fail at blogging. It has been way too damn long since I have posted anything substantial. My excuse is the same that it’s been in the last posts, so I don’t see the need to give it again. Just know that I have been thinking daily about posting something, but my brain has been void of any ideas. My husband has some time off work coming up, so my hope is that my “relationship advice” post will be up within the week.

Contrary to what my lack of posting says, this blog means a lot to me. It’s like my small little “YOPP!” to the world.

Those of us that live with mental illness, in one way or another, become accustomed to it. There’s no question in our minds that mental illness is an illness like any other. It’s just as unwanted, debilitating, and unprovoked, and requires medical care as many other diseases. However, stepping outside the circle of people you’ve surrounded yourself with that “get it” (as best as they can) can result in a giant slap across the face. This happened to me yesterday, while reading some very praised and very offensive material on the internet. It’s just a reminder that I’m not fighting a fought war. The hurtful ignorance surrounding mental illness is huge. Things that sound immensely fucked up to me sound like great advice or wisdom to others. I want to be apart of changing that, in any way that I can. I believe I can do something. It’s hard to not to feel small and insignificant in such an uphill battle. But I refuse to let that get to me; I’m only 21. I have so much life ahead of me to step out, speak up, share my story, and make people listen.

Obviously, five voices together are louder than one. And 50 is even louder. And 200. And 10,000. If you feel led in any way to speak out, do it. Don’t wait until it’s easier or more comfortable; it’s not going to happen. When I first opened up about having bipolar disorder, it was really awkward and uncomfortable for me. I had to force myself out my comfort zone in order to eventually become comfortable with it. Even now, I still sometimes struggle with it, but I’m continually fighting that shame. I won’t let uninformed, ignorant, and offensive opinions and ideas dictate how I treat myself. My point being, it’s not always easy to take that first step into talking about it. In fact, it can be terrifying. But it’s so important. Awareness will save lives. So many people don’t get the help that they so desperately need because they are ashamed. Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. It’s the third leading cause of death in people ages 15-24. More than 90% of people who commit suicide suffer from mental illnesses and/or substance abuse. Untreated depression is the number one cause for suicide. I strongly believe that these numbers could drop significantly if we lived in a culture that treated mental illness like any other medical condition. Not as a weakness, an emotional issue, or something that can be cured by a change in thinking or self-help book. And I will spend my entire life fighting against those misconceptions. Millions of people in this country have been diagnosed with a mental illness, and even more love and care about people with mental illnesses. If everyone stepped out of their comfort zone and talked about it, we could change things.

Well, okay. I didn’t intend on saying any of that. This is why I love having a blog. I start writing a “sorry for sucking at blogging” post and it turns into a recruit message for stigma-stomping soldiers.

As I was rereading this, I realized that I said something that could be perceived as offensive, and is definitely incorrect. I was coming from my own perspective, and I inadvertently projected my experience on all people with a mental illness. Not cool at all; I sincerely apologize. I’m referring to my statement that those of us with a mental illness become accustomed to it, and that there is no question that it’s an illness like any other. That is not true, and in fact contradicts what I am saying and believe. There are many, many people suffering from depression or other mental illnesses that don’t understand what is wrong with them. That think they should be able to handle it on their own. That are so confused as to why they are suffering so greatly for seemingly no reason. It was completely inappropriate for me to say that. I really am sorry.

Before you give up on my blog…

Hey everyone, I’m sorry I haven’t been posting lately. I’m still really struggling with depression. My psychiatrist upped my antidepressant a few days ago so hopefully that will work without sending me into a mania (probably shouldn’t admit this but I’m not really opposed to feeling manic at this point…)

This is why I haven’t written anything. I don’t even have the energy to do the things I need to do, let alone what I want to do.

I have started a post on relationship advice for those with bipolar disorder, and the flip side; being in a relationship with someone who has it. I want this to be a collaboration with my husband, but he’s been working a lot so we haven’t had the chance to talk a lot about it. I’ll try to get that written, but given the nature of the topic, I really want to think it through before posting it.

So stay tuned and don’t unfollow me quite yet! Hopefully I’ll get back to posting nearly everyday again soon.

The word “depression” is more overplayed than Gotye.

I think you get it. So I’m just going to jump right into this one. These are merely my opinions with some research of the opinions of professionals. If these opinions piss you off…well, I warned you in my very first blog post.

Depression =/= Having a bad day.
Everyone wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. Who hasn’t woken up grumpy and annoyed and easily irritated by everything? I have days like that, just ask my husband. It’s fine, he has days like that, too. Compared to depression, it’s apples vs oranges. However, during times like these, a lot of people say, “I’m just feeling depressed today.” Um, no. No you aren’t. It’s so frustrating to hear someone who has no clue how dark, painful, and all-consuming depression is say that they are “depressed”. Actually, you are human. Welcome to life.

Depression =/= Unhappiness.
Depression is not an emotion. Being unhappy is. They are not synonymous. They are not interchangeable. Check your vocabulary and switch some shit around in your mind, because it’s really not cool to belittle a disease into an emotion.

Depression =/= Disappointment.
Oh, you’re depressed because Halloween is over and you looooooove Halloween and you have to wait a whole year to celebrate again? No. Oh, It’s just so depressing that your favorite football team lost in the playoffs? No. Things that suck are NOT depressing. Don’t throw around a term that represents deep pain, debilitating helplessness and hopelessness, ruined lives, and lost lives like it’s nothing. Finishing a book series you loved is not depressing. You might not mean it offensively, but it’s really insensitive. So stop it.

Depression =/= Going through something really rough (sort of).
This is going to be very extensive as it is much more complicated than any other topic. I’m going to try to tread lightly with this one, because situational depression (also called “reactive depression” or “adjustment disorder”) is very real and can be a dark place. I don’t intend to invalidate that in any way. Treading lightly is not an innate skill I was blessed with, to say the least, so this is me genuinely trying to state my opinion gently because I don’t want to sound unempathetic (which apparently is not a word but I’m going to stick it to the red squiggly line and use it anyway). So, with that said…situational depression, while very similar to clinical depression, is not the same. I’m sorry if that right there offends anyone, truly I am. But that’s…well, I won’t say it’s a fact because I can’t say that. But it is my opinion and the opinion of many psychiatrists and specialists. Yes, I have read articles on this topic, rather than just basing it off of my personal opinion alone. Situational depression can be debilitating, I do understand this. But they aren’t exactly alike. It’s not apples to oranges, but it’s not apples to apples either (holy shit I understand the name of the game now, did everyone else already know this?). Perhaps it’s grapes to raisins. You can decide which is which. There are some glaring differences between the two, and I will tackle each of them. As I said, this is a topic I’ve read a lot about, so this is not just 100% my opinion.

Suicidal thoughts:
Of course, someone suffering from situational depression can have suicidal thoughts. But they are typically felt or expressed when focusing on or somehow facing the situation. These thoughts can still be scary and should always be taken seriously; no matter what reason you have, if you think you might act on any suicidal thoughts, call 911 or go to the ER immediately. With that said, in the case of situational depression, the severity of suicidal thoughts is much lower than with clinical depression. Another significant difference between suicidal ideation in situational depression and clinical depression is typically the thoughts going into them. With situational depression, you might feel hopeless about a situation you can’t change, that a loss is too big to live with, or that you can’t live with the new change in your life. Clinical depression is very different in this sense. It’s a nasty monster in your head. It takes your biggest insecurity and attacks it. It tells you you are worthless, that the people around you wish you weren’t in their life, that your loved ones would genuinely be better off without you. It eats at you constantly. This is why suicidal thoughts are commonly passing (and scary) thoughts for someone suffering from situational depression, while for someone with clinical depression, it’s a much different story. I don’t know many depression statistics, but I do know that up to 50% of people with bipolar disorder attempt suicide.

Cause and the emotions that creates:
This one is much easier. Obviously, situational depression stems from a tragic, traumatic, or just straight up shitty event. Clinical depression stems from nothing, except your brain being an asshole. Situational depression is easier to look at, to face, and to handle in this sense. You know why you are depressed. If someone asked you what was up, you might say, “I’m just depressed,” but I’m sure that within five minutes of honest conversation you would spill out exactly what’s causing it. In the case of clinical depression, you’re just going through life, bebopping along, when BAM, depression pops up out of nowhere and punches you in the face. You’re knocked down and it doesn’t matter how badly you want to get up. Depression stands there with its foot on your head, looking down and taunting you, calling you terrible names and telling you awful things about yourself. With situational depression, you don’t want to do anything because you’re just too bloody depressed. With clinical depression, you want nothing more than to be able to do anything at all. Situational depression makes it extremely difficult to do the things you need to do; clinical depression can make it impossible. Which of course makes you feel even more like shit. It kills my pride as a mommy to have to have my mom come stay with me and take care of my kids and house. It absolutely kills me. But it wouldn’t be fair to my children if I didn’t accept the help that I so desperately need at times like that. The help that not all are blessed to have. Regardless, it straight up sucks.

Treatment:
No matter the reason, someone suffering from depression should speak to their doctor about it. The general rule is if it doesn’t let up in about two weeks, talk to your doctor. The typical treatments for situational depression are things like exercise, proper nutrition, sleep cycle regulation, and most commonly talk therapy. These things are also beneficial to someone suffering from clinical depression; however in most cases, medication is needed. For someone with bipolar disorder, it’s a million billion (roughly) times more complicated because our brains extra suck ass and antidepressants alone swing us way too far the other way. I’ve never met someone who was medicated for bipolar disorder and was only on one medication. I’m sure there are people on lithium alone, but I don’t know them. Even the people I know who are on lithium also take an antidepressant and/or an anti-anxiety medication. Point being, well, I don’t know. I guess I went a medication tangent. Sorry.

Length of feeling like shit time:
This is an easy one. Situational depression:  Hang in there! Experts say that by six months at most, people suffering from situational depression should adjust to the new life circumstances and see that cloud finally lifting. Just be prepared that if you’ve suffered an episode of depression, there is a chance that depression will be an asshat and come back to visit the next time your life gets flipped upside down by an event, loss, or change. Clinical depression:  Well, you hang in there, too! But who knows how the hell long you’ll be depressed, and when things start looking up, enjoy it because depression will come back at some point to bite you in the ass out of nowhere.

Well, I think that’s more than enough on that topic. Point is, situational depression and clinical depression both suck, but clinical depression is simply more severe.

Depression = Having the life sucked out of you.
This is a quote I saw on Facebook that is so incredibly accurate:

“Depression is such a cruel punishment. There are no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern. Just the slow erosion of self, as insidious as any cancer. And like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience. A room in hell with only your name on the door.”
– Martha Manning, Undercurrents

I’ll leave you guys with that. Sorry I haven’t been posting very much. I am still struggling with depression but things are starting to look up a bit. But unfortunately life isn’t put on hold when I’m not capable of doing anything, so I am behind in many aspects of life right now. I’ll try to post more frequently, though. I always feel better after writing a post.

Also, I am attempting to pull together stories from friends, family, acquaintances, and strangers alike for a blog post. I want to have a post full of the stories of other people, and how mental illness has affected their life. So far I only have three stories. It can be about your own mental illness, or someone you love; parent, child, spouse, sibling, neighbor, it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re willing to be open and share your story. I can post it anonymously or with your first name (and preferably age) whichever you prefer. I can also link to your blog/website if you’d like. Email me your story at hopeisreal124@gmail.com  

Shatterproof: Stronger Than Addiction

Shatterproof: Stronger Than Addiction – Donate Now

Yep. I’m that person right now. I’m asking for money. Don’t worry, it’s not for my rent or plastic surgery fund (unless you want to donate to that, if so totally hit me up….only in jest, of course.).

Shatterproof is a new organization that is dedicated to the cause of creating resources and fighting stigmas attached to addiction. Here is what they say in their “About Us” section:

“Shatterproof is an unprecedented movement to decisively tackle the disease of addiction to alcohol and other drugs and bridge the enormous gap in addiction resources. With your help, Shatterproof’s programs will offer support for sufferers and their families, enable powerful new evidence­-based approaches to prevention and treatment, and take the issue to the steps of Capitol Hill.”

Even more powerful and near to my heart is the “End the Stigma” section of the website. Here is a segment from that page:

“Research tells us that addiction is a disease like any other, that its roots are genetic, biological, and environmental. But rather than treating it like the disease that it is, society treats addiction like a moral failure. Those who suffer with this disease — along with those who love them — are isolated by judgment and shame. As a result, the disease often goes unrecognized and untreated, especially among the poor.”

I am very excited about this new organization and hope to be as involved as possible. I think you should be excited too; excited enough to skip a Starbuck’s coffee tomorrow morning and donate money to help them really get this organization to take off. Even just a small amount can add up if enough people are willing to donate even $5. Of course, as much as you can afford to part with would help so many people and families suffering from this awful disease.

So this is what I’d like you to do:

1. Watch this video: Shatterproof PSA

2. Check out their website at http://www.shatterproof.org/

3. Consider your finances; what could you cut out, even just once or twice, that you could instead use that money to donate to such an important cause?

4. Click on the link at the top of this page and give what you can!

I really hope you will seriously consider donating. Also, sign up for their updates if you want to keep up with what they are accomplishing. Addiction is a terrible disease, and I would venture to say that the stigma attached to addiction is even harsher than that of any other mental illness. I commonly hear people say terrible things about addicts and it just breaks my heart deeply. It is a DISEASE. We need to view it as that, and fight it like we would any other disease. Think about the amazing things this organization could accomplish if they received even a small portion of the money raised just during the month of October for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Addiction is a disease just the same. I strongly urge you to search your heart (and your bank account) and genuinely consider helping this cause.

Hope doesn’t even sound like a word anymore.

I don’t know if I should be blogging right now. I did not create this blog with the intention of using it like a diary. More than once I have clearly stated the intent behind this whole thing.

So I’ve been trying to keep it rather neutral. Here, watch this documentary so I can post something without actually saying anything! (really do watch the film, though, it’s pretty good)

I’m still on the fence about whether I should really record every intense emotional phase I enter, or even any of them. Should I be showing what it’s really like living with bipolar disorder? That the carpet can be pulled from underneath you at anytime, no matter how firmly your feet are planted on the ground? Or am I taking away from what this blog could be? I don’t want this to turn into every other blog, Kari’s woeful tales, with me endlessly droning on about misery and suffering and counting how many tears have plopped into my beer.

 

Fuck it.

I can’t get enough sleep. If I could, I would sleep all day and all night. Every second of every moment I am just so thoroughly exhausted, and I want to sleep though every thought in my head. I just want to turn off my brain, because it’s too much. It’s too mean. It’s a nasty virus physically destroying my entire self. I feel empty. Or disproportioned, like my limbs are hollow but my chest is full of lead. I want to curl up in my bed and not leave. I imagine being extremely destructive, like destroying a room or something, because in my mind it’s some sort of release. My body is constantly battling between a dull ache and numbness, and I feel very apathetic about almost every aspect in my life. Or I don’t, maybe, but the apathy is good cover for feeling everything way too much. Mostly, though, I just want to sleep. I’m just…tired.

Tomorrow will be better. I mean, I said that days ago, but I’ll keep saying it, because the second that hope slips through my fingers, I don’t know how far I’ll fall down. It’s just a bump. A hiccup. It’s normal; medication isn’t going to make me completely asymptomatic, right? So I’m just feeling down. And I’ll start lifting out of it at any second. Any second now….any moment….any time now…..

Unless I don’t.

I can’t go there. Hope hope hope. God damn that word. Hope. I want to kick it in its stupid ever-enduring smile and break its stupid teeth. 

I’m sorry, is that not what I’m supposed to say? Hold on to hope, there is hope, hope is real. How many times have I said that in the short life that this blog has had? I am not denouncing that. I’m just….

Maybe I need a little mid-post disclaimer (I’ll put on my sanity cap for a second): I am not in a good mental state right now. I’m writing because it helps me, and I’ll justify posting it by telling myself that it will show the reality of the illness. But nothing I say in this blog post should be taken as worth anything at all, as it could potentially undo what I’ve done in previous post. Please see this as coming from an unstable mind. That is all this is.

Sanity cap off, that thing starts to hurt after wearing it for too long. Anyone with a mental illness knows exactly what I mean.

So anyway, back to hope. I cling to hope. I desperately claw at it, begging it not to leave me. And every once in a while, it crouches down next to me, smiles proudly, and pats me on the head as I am plucked out of the mud, or make a leap in therapy, or start a good medication, or make any sort of advancement in my recovery. But for the most part, hope is just this idea that’s too big to grasp, too far to see, too small to cling to. Yet I keep at it. I create it out of nothing. Am I even making any sense? Probably not.

For how much credit I give hope, hope only follows through on its promises on occasion. It’s all a fucking joke, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t know what I mean by that.

I think it’s time I leave hope alone. Hope did nothing wrong. Hope is receiving my misdirected anger, like a dog getting kicked because its owner had a bad day at work.

I think I need to switch my focus over to fear. Fear is what is destroying me right now. And the only reason that fear is destroying me, is because I am not allowing myself to admit what my fear is of. 

I’m like a child covering my ears and closing my eyes.

I won’t even let myself think. I can’t. I can’t.

Right now. Just right now, like a band-aid. Just say it.

How bad is this going to get? What if it’s all the way to square one?

I have been avoiding that thought like the plague. For good reason, as I am now near crying, saying “no no no no no” in my head. Yes, I’m being serious. Don’t worry, seeing it typed out, it’s funny to me, too. Only in the “funny because it’s sad and pathetic and true” kind of way.

I don’t know if I can do this all over again. I don’t know if I can make it out alive again. It would be like if I climbed Mount Everest and was mere feet from the summit, and someone so easily and nonchalantly bumped me and I tumbled to the bottom. Now I’m looking up, and trying to convince myself to climb the entire fucking mountain again, still exhausted from the first time. I wouldn’t; no way in hell. I would say “close enough”, pack up my shit, and go the fuck home.

So right now, I don’t know how far down the mountain I am. I’m too scared to look.

Fuckin’ fear.

So I guess I’ll quit being a bastard to hope and give it another chance. What other option do I have?

Tomorrow will be better, right?

“Up/Down” A documentary about bipolar disorder

If you have an hour and a half to spare, this documentary is definitely worth watching. Share your thoughts on the film!