It’s been months

I know that I never finish what I start… EVER.

I had hoped that this would be different because I felt different. I thought it was different.

But it wasn’t. Not really. It’s was a time of personal growth but in the time I was suppose to discover things, I was falling into my spiral of emotional overload. I had moved to a new place. Started a relationship. Got screwed over by the person I moved to help…stopped working, got stressed, started having issues with my ptsd, got depressed, started eating my feelings.

I know what you’re thinking. Ok, big deal life happens to everyone. Which is true, life doesn’t discriminate. I guess I had a year before I even came here slowly going backwards. Being stressed and not fixing or talking about it. I tried taking my meds then I would stop,then I would start. Never ending story. I shouldn’t have moved or taken this responsibility. I did and here I am. So now I have to continue backwards and try to piece everything together right. The list is so long I don’t really want to make one. But to move forward and be happy I have to deal with it.

But I’m tired of feeling like I do. I can ride it out and wait until I feel differently but I don’t know if that will happen if I stay and do nothing.

I have had this idea of writing this wildly popular blog… I’ve tried different approaches, and it’s not that they haven’t worked out. It’s that I never put in the work. Maybe I place too much pressure on myself or maybe I don’t place enough. Regardless I just stop shortly after starting. I start off with all the right intentions, but intentions aren’t actions. And actions are what I am lacking. I can make the best plans to ease into it but it just doesn’t go as planned.

So here is to accepting that I might live a life where I hardly finish things. And to still try to be who you really want to be. But most importantly I’m accepting that I am me no matter what. My change is to meet my expectations and no one else’s. To be ok with the reality of life and to have strength to fight for what I want.

I’ve been trying to go to bed early and waking up earlier. It’s the only thing that’s been consistent for over a week. Yet I can’t sleep.

I’ve been trying to not binge it. It’s working. I also stopped eating after 7pm. Haven’t gained any weight. Eventually I’ll start meal prepping and eating healthier as well.

Thought I would do some meditation daily, that was a fail. I’ve done it twice maybe a third time. Ugh so I have to restart and keep trying.

This is week 2 and I wanted to start with stretches or one set of a few work outs…. that hasn’t happened. Tomorrow is thanksgiving so it probably won’t happen this week at all.

So I’m just going to keep trying and setting up new goals and eventually….hopefully…. I’ll get there.

As for this blog? I think the best thing for me to do would be to treat it as a journal, and write when the need appears.

There is so much to say, yet I don’t know how to voice it or where to start. I guess this was a start but it only shows one side. Oh well. Until next time.

Not being heard

Telling your partner your depression is suffocating you and that you can’t take it anymore, and them proceeding to watch funny videos even after you sent them webpages to help with the warning signs and how to help when someone is asking for help. I guess sitting next to me after I said something makes him feel like he is helping . Makes me feel like he not only doesn’t understand but isn’t willing to learn and just doesn’t give a f**k, but when I speak up I’m the bad guys, because how can he know?!?! Oh, I don’t know I’ve been telling you and sending you reading material and telling you how your reactions are making me feel…. and people wonder why I think all relationships have an end date for me…

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The riots

The screams

The burning in my chest

Thumping in my heart

I cant hear me

Or see where I’m going

All i see is the present

holding on to the past

Im screaming

But no one but i can hear it

I can barely hear me

Im burning from within

A fever so high

It’s catching fire

Im on fire

There is no amount of water to douse me out

I am flames licking the air

Reaching high to the sky

Spreading my smoke to All around

So they can also choke

I make the sky black

So it can look like my insides

So the world can see the fall

The Destruction in me

The whirlwind of me

The destruction that is me

I cant be saved

I cant be contained

And i can never be controlled

I am a wild heart

A wild fire that will never stop

Why I haven’t posted in a bit

I am in a bipolar depression, and I mean the bad kind where everything makes you cry, and you feel so alone it hurts. My S.O doesn’t get it. I’ve asked him to read about the disorder and send him articles, I don’t think he reads them. I’m depressed self medication with some alcohol although I don’t drink and have years without doing so. You know what my S.O is doing? He is inside “giving me space” I told him I want to die, again the reply was for him to start doing yard work and when he was done he went inside. So I have no support. Don’t worry guys I have no plans of hurting myself just needed to put this out here because I’m not the only one who feels like this.

What this is about

I made this blog because having bipolar or bipolar 2 are very lonely disorder/illness. Not everyone around you understands, heck some days I don’t understand. It will put a strain on most relationships.

I lucked out and have a great mom that accepts me as I am, and I do have a partner right now that’s trying. But I can’t go to my mom with details of how I feel she’s my mother first and will be worried. Why cause her distress when I can avoid it. I tried talking to my bf but I felt I left him confused and with a lot to think about.

I have no one to talk to about what I go through that just understands. That can listen without try to “help”. I end up searching the web for anything that talks about people going through the same thing. Just reading it makes me feel less alone. Makes me feel normal, well as normal I can be. Others are going through the same thing and they are ok. I haven’t found a support group, but to be honest I’m not good at sharing my feeling especially not in a group setting.

So this blog is my diary, my journal. How I feel about something at the moment. My poetry, whatever is going through my mind at the moment. just writing this feels like a weight lifted of my shoulders. So with all that said, the point is for me to express and share how I feel, and if I’m so luck to get a view that maybe it helps that person feel less alone too.

Lost spaces of time

It’s really scary not really being in your own head.

Like things happen and I know something is wrong

But I can’t put the story together as to how I go there

When did this happen

How long have I been lost for?

I feel so alone.

I may have people around me

But they don’t understand

They have their own side of this

A picture destroyed by actions

A flutter of a moment

And then it becomes harder

Harder than before to see me

My side doesn’t make so much sense

And more explanation are needed

But how can I explain something

I barely understand

I don’t know what’s going on either

I’m just feeling sad and dejected

Love and bipolar

You know what’s the worse thing about having bipolar?

Knowing that most relationships have a time limit.

A point of when the other person is done with you

They don’t understand you

They don’t believe you

They don’t know the difference between you and your bipolar

They don’t understand that sometimes they are the same person

They don’t understand how strongly we feel

How much we hurt

People say well you’ve hurt me

Guess that means I deserve to be hurt back

I’ve always known

That I would end up alone

I was completely fine with that

Until I met the person I thought would be there for ever and ever

But fairy tales are just that

Tales of things we broken people don’t have access to

So I will content myself with broken,alone, but at least free of judgement

Everyone says take your meds

But those that say that don’t know how we feel when we take them

Besides feeling sick constantly and the memory problems it causes

It makes me feel like someone else

Like the world is telling me I’m defective and need meds to help

This is my life, I might as well get use to it.

Bipolar

Bi-polar
2 little hyphenated words
It doesn’t take away from who I am
It does show sides that even I dont like
I cant always recognize myself
But bi-polar is a part of me
Yet it doesn’t define me

I am still me inside
Yet I am constantly judged by it
I am made to feel like a reject
Like my friendship doesn’t matter
Because i am not good enough

But I am good enough
my disorder makes me cranky
And sometimes mean
And although I dont mean it
I understand it still hurts
So i try to make amens
But its never enough

And yet again I am pushed aside
Bi-polar doesn’t take away from my feelings
It actually intensifies them
So when I dont feel accepted
Or that I’m worth taking a chance for
It shatters me from the inside out.

I could prove that i am good enough
If only I was given a chance
My compassion has no limits
My friends lack for nothing if i can help it
I keep secrets to the grave
And never judge anyone

But when the bipolar hits
Im no longer good enough again
So I have resigned myself
to the few friends i have
And that not many people
Will be added to my life

But I am good enough
My disorder doesn’t define me
I define me.

Dont feel sorry for my struggles
I feel sorry for you
And your lack of compassion
Of acceptance
Of being a good person

My heart is big
And my love is pure
But sometimes i turn cold
To not be burned anymore.

Nothing will ever define me
No one will ever define me.
I define me.

By unknown(me)

How I got here

I don’t know why it took me so long to get here…. I’ve always had much to say.

But then I would have a lot of nothing to say. On those times that I couldn’t talk I would write. No, not journaling(although I’ve always had one), but poetry.

Through my poems I found I had more to say than I thought. I thought I didn’t care about politics but my words told a different story.

Writing taught me I felt a lot more than I was willing to admit out loud. My poems taught me that I had a story to tell, but wasn’t ready to share.

For years I read, wrote, painted, collected whatever I could to keep my ever busy mind occupied. But nothing helped….

Let’s backtrack some, I was never the happiest person, I wasn’t the most trusting, but I always made my voice heard. All of this we will get back to at some other time, but for Now let’s move forward again.

I suddenly lost my voice, I didn’t know why. I couldn’t understand it. I was sad and kept crying and back then I hated tears because I though they showed weakness. I know better now. To cry shows more strength in your character, than to hold it in.

Now let’s get to the present.

All the confusion and tears and unhappiness(in my adult years) were about Bi-polar 2. I didn’t know at the time and then when I got diagnosed I was in denial like most people because there is this stigma about mental health.

So this long roundabout post is about me and the daily struggles of bipolar and other fun things, as well as how I live with it and keep trying to achieve my dreams.

Xoxo