Straining for breath. There is not enough air. There is not enough room. I can feel the sides. I can see the ceiling through the darkness. Its really fucking dark. I cannot move. Locked in a coffin. I am locked in a coffin. All I can do is scream. Beg. Beg for someone to please set me free. My husband’s voice comes to me and he says, Its Open! As I wrestle with this night terror and come to fully wake, I burst into tears. He reassures me it is only a dream. I am safe. I am home. He is right beside me.
Right now, 24 hours later if I close my eyes I can feel the coffin surrounding me, confining me. Stealing my right to life. I didn’t go back to sleep. I couldn’t trust myself, rather my mind. I got up at the usual time 5:45am. I had a few things on the agenda for the day. I no longer attend my outpatient program. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Its so easy for me to fall into depression without structure, purpose, meaning for the day. Sometimes I can create it for myself, but other times I just sit and stare at a tv that isn’t even on. Its an open invitation to return if I feel I need it. I hope to not need it, but we will see. There is no return to work date at this point. I feel trapped by the work dilemma. If I go to work I have structure, purpose, meaning…but stress, demands and deadlines. If I don’t go to work, I risk lack of structure and fall prey to depression. However, my mind is not right. Period.
As I was saying, I had things I wanted to accomplish. The task of cleaning the kitchen after my husband did his usual Sunday cooking was calling me. Mopping the tile floors after the rain is a necessity. Going to bank and library a must. The one “errand” I was looking forward to was getting my hair colored. In the midst of cleaning the kitchen I decided to take the recycling out as it was overflowing the hallway. I carried the load to the bins in the backyard. Upon returning to the back door I found it very hard to push open. It took me several tries. Once I pushed through, I found the reason…a coffin laying in the hallway. Another coffin was perched at the very end of this long hallway at the front door. The devil was whispering..going straight to hell.
My goal is to be able to take a pause and realize this is a hallucination before I “buy into it.” When I am alone, it just seems I cannot find that tool. I screamed and it echoed in our hallway. I burst into tears. I stood frozen. I didn’t know what to do, where to go. Time also stood still. I don’t know how long I was there. Any amount of time was too long. Slowly I calmed my breath. I opened my eyes and the coffins were not there. I sat on the couch and stared at the tv. Then, without much hesitation, I went back to bed. I buried myself deep under the covers. I’m not sure I slept so much as allowed myself to fall through the rabbit hole.
I don’t understand why this darkness consumes me. I am in need of an explanation. Or, really, I am in need of confirmation this is not my fault in some way. I am not evil or sinister within my soul. On one hand I do understand this is the bipolar disorder. On the other, I really question that is the sole answer. The same themes taunt me. I don’t know what I would do if it were truly about me. Go to church? Become vegetarian? Something to cleanse myself. I have saged the house. I go to acupuncture. I am kind and empathetic towards people. Two months of this. Insecurity. Anxiety. I don’t know when these hallucinations are going to come. That’s just as scary as when they do arrive.