The rapid mod swings over the past week have culminated in tears streaming down my face for 2 days. Interspersed are some all out sobs. I feel broken. But I’m not even sure what broke me. I just sit and stare. Tears flow. I’m not thinking. It’s as if I’m not even here. I can hear my husbands voice, but it takes a minute to process the words. In return, I have no words. I shrug my shoulders when he asks what’s wrong or if I’m okay. I shake my head no when he offers food. I curl up as tight as I can when the waves of despair come. They was over me and it’s so painful. Sometimes I can’t breathe. I’m too tired to look for reasons.
Lost in my silent hell I loaded up on sleep medication to escape. Even staring at the wall was beginning to hurt. I see no purpose in my existence. Drenched in bipolar depression I crawl into bed at 7pm. It’s still light out. I used to love longer days. Many a time I would enjoy summer sunsets over my back fence. I would breathe the beauty into my being. Pinks, reds, occasional orange hues fanning across the sky. But today I just see and feel darkness. Dragging my body towards my bedroom as my husband watches tv. Begging the medication to kick in, wondering if I took enough to quell the usual insomnia.
Day #2 I watch my husband from the couch. He is cooking and cleaning while I feel like stone. I can barely move and the guilt weighs that much more. I can muster yes and no answers, but that’s about it. Tears fall. I do not even wipe them away. He comes over to sit with me and I just burrow into his chest and begin to sob. He tells me I’m going to be okay. I don’t respond as my mind has settled on the best way to end this miserable existence. He falls asleep to the hum of the tv. I stare right through it.
Day#3 I force myself to write this. My husband tells me he needs/wants me to be happy. As if I don’t. He has left for the day. I am now alone with my thoughts and plans. The demons of my mind are coming out to play uninvited. I really don’t have the energy for games. If I could disappear from this couch I would. I am desperate to end this emotional pain.
while I’m no stranger to this bipolar merry go round it never seems to get easier, at least for me. I can try to be a hero and just push right on through, which is what I often do. Hunker down and try that much harder at work. I can’t miss work now as a project I have been working on for months is coming together. They are relying on me. My boss is relying on me to meet the deadline. But, it’s not heroic to neglect myself, my symptoms. Eventually it turns disastrous. This is the hardest part for me. Wanting to be a responsible, productive employee that follows through and gets things done and wanting to be a responsible person with bipolar disorder to get help before the crisis.
Whats it going to be!?!