I stand in the shower head against the tile wondering is my life worth living. The water turns from hot to ice cold down the drain spinning. Why Me? Why Me? Why Me? I want to be “normal”. I want thoughts of better days but that’s impossible when my mind is a dead end maze. I’m good one minute, psycho the next. Ohh Hello BI-POLAR you came out to play. Is this just a brief stop or you deciding to stay. Come along the ride with DEPRESSION and pick up ANXIETY while you are at it. A MANIC trio on a road of disaster. Charles take these HAPPY pills it will swallow the pain and agony but in reality I’m swallowed whole grasping for air. I see a little light…HOPE.
I am not ashamed to say it. It’s the Stigma that shames us all. Just thankful to shed some light upon my darkest hours. We scroll up and down Facebook overlooking the underlying issues of one in danger or seeking help.
There’s only One that Sees and Hears the Pain We Hide From Others. A tear is made of 1% water and 99% feelings. Sometimes sad memories sneak out my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I hide behind my smile and laughter that it breaks my heart and I’m falling apart. Behind my brown eyes are so many hidden tears and behind my body is a soul trying to fight.
Hi, I’m Charles. I don’t thank my Bipolar. For anything. Not a single thing. I acknowledge my illness, I understand it, I make my peace, but I don’t give my Bipolar any credit. That belongs to me. With or without it I’m fabulous. And my Mental illness can go fuck itself.
If I could take a pill that would cure me, I would snatch it right out of your hand and swallow it dry. Because my Bipolar Disorder doesn’t make me special, it makes my life complicated. My Bipolar Disorder doesn’t make me brave. It’s not the source of my strength. It lingers under the surface of my consciousness, wheedling into my brain and poisoning how I feel about myself and how I experience the world.
I’m special, brave, strong, and talented without my illness. Bipolar Disorder isn’t a trial that I need to tackle in order to show the world I’m tough enough. I don’t need an illness to exaggerate my awesomeness. With an illness that mimics identity it can be hard to tell where Bipolar ends and I begin. The boundaries are never that distinct. But my Bipolar Disorder isn’t a badge. It’s a label, a diagnosis, a hefty, troublesome detail. My Bipolar doesn’t get to take a bow.
Man, what the hell? Your energy is all over the goddamn place. One day you’re bouncing off walls, and beds, and thoughts and you can’t stop thinking or talking long enough to hear someone is speaking to you. I know you hear it, I know you hear me. I know there’s at least a buzzing in your inner ear that calls your attention A whispering child that’s begging for two seconds of your time.
Other days, seem like nights It’s quiet in there Literally nothing is on Nothing is open You’re off. Thoughts are like molasses when they happen and when they don’t you’re not surprised you’re relieved, even. Glad you don’t have to muster the energy muster the motivation to breathe a millisecond faster than you already need to. There are these orange see-through bottles on your nightstand. They have these marbles inside At least I think they’re marbles Except you swallow them and they come in different shapes and sizes and colors I can’t pronounce them sometimes but the one by the alarm clock right now is easy: Lithium Next to it, there’s Lamictal, and then Vrylar. Your psychiatrist said that’s the old-type name. Who knows what that means. It still stops the tremors that Lithium keeps gifting you.
You’re given this really neat marble collector cabinet. They are mini-cabinets for the marbles by day. Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday If you wake up, that is. Twice a day with a meal If you eat, that is. Don’t forget to take them though, I’m scared you won’t wake up again if you stop taking the marbles. They’re good for you and so am I. Day N’ Night.
I once read a story a long time ago that Depression was like a bad dog who creeps up on you slow. I have Bipolar Disorder it’s an ugly disease another kind of bad dog who never really leaves. Yet training this bad dog has taught things to me, sometimes hard to remember, but I can think of THREE. The FIRST is to find the silver lining of things if I see only dark only pain it brings. The SECOND is to think outside of the box to learn coping skills and ways to detox. The THIRD is learning how to talk about pain and not suffer alone with nothing to gain. Taming the bad dog was harder than hell it took years of my life and left me a shell. But looking on the bright side, I take heart to know that despite the dark winter I managed and continued to grow.
I fell in Love with the Hatred. Love being Hated. Why you want to hate me? Why would you want to hate me. It’s mental, it’s all in your thoughts. Love & Hate are 2 powerful tools thrown in so many directions to describe our feelings, thoughts and emotions. We can love and hate the same person, place or things.
I love my father because he gave you Charles but I hate him for being an absent father. I used to love drinking and drugging but I hate the effects it caused to harm my life. I love being happy but I hate the bipolar tendencies it brings. It’s a love/hate relationship we all live. Like ying & yang, love and hate can’t live without each other.
My Addictions: You love me one minute but hate me the next. That’s too much Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I love, hate and miss you but I’m better off without you. I never wanted you out my life but I had to let you go. You got to do the right thing.
I put myself in other shoes they called me Bipolar. Call me Bipolar, I’m the happiest mad man right in front of you. You don’t know my story, my struggle, the demons that I combat daily. I tell myself I’m unique but why do I feel weak? I’m a maniac within my own mind, a prisoner to say the least.
I feel lonely, isolated and suffering at times. Everything takes a backseat in my depressed state of mind including my friends and family. When I was in my active addictions to a point I never imagined I would reach, my depression experienced hopelessness, deep sadness and loss of energy. My lack of interests from sex to even watching television were too little. Sleeping to long or too little my mind races with suicidal thoughts. It’s not easy living with Bipolar, but it can be more difficult when the people around you don’t understand your diagnosis.
I’m medicated, educated and dedicated towards my mental illness. I don’t hide behind what I am because I admit I’m Bipolar. I have multiple moods that are sometimes out of my control. I face them head on with full force. Bare with me and stand by me instead of being afraid or nervous. I love a good challenge and I must overcome. Thank You.
3 Years Ago I had a different plan but today I’m Alive…
“Pen and pad in my hand, and I was writing a note. Didn’t get far, as soon as I wrote down “Mom” I just stopped. Couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t figure out how to say bye to her. Couldn’t explain the “Why” to her. Couldn’t picture her getting a call or somebody saying her son had died to her.” – (Joe Budden – Only Human)
SEPTEMBER 19, 2017 was my set date I planned to leave this earth. I was sick of crying, tired of trying, yes I was smiling but inside I was dying.
They say God works in mysterious ways. Well I definitely believe that. After 1 year and 2 weeks clean and sober I questioned what else is there to life? It was the very first time in my life I contemplated living or dying. Just how I hid my addictions, I hid this too.
I questioned what else is there to life? It was the very first time in my life I contemplated living or dying. I thought about death wondering how I was gonna go. I couldn’t be insane for just wanting to know but in my head I died often.
Framing suicide as a method to get attention paints those who are sick as manipulative, when in fact, they are simply really ill. I’m ill. In addition, even if a suicide attempt is a cry for help, it means they need help–so let’s help! My depression and bipolar overtook my mind to think lower of myself.
Suicide doesn’t end the chances of life getting worse, suicide eliminates the possibility of it ever getting better.
The emotions, feelings, thoughts, addictions, and depression I had faced daily were now burdens lifted off my shoulders. I had overcome such adversities throughout my life and I wouldn’t allow the easy way out — SUICIDE. I always stress reach out to each other. No one knows what goes on in my head just like anyone else. I can text anyone back “LOL” but I wasn’t laughing at all.
I was hoping Someone would get me. Because I can’t Escape the Nightmare That is Reality to me… Even my Tears for so long tried to Flee the Trauma that is Inside Me. Cold, Barren, Stagnant they became Rising up as it Meets just Beneath the Surface Of Another mind frame Afraid to Let It Go So I close The Curtains that Hold In the Universe that is Internally Bleeding. I’m Completley Submerged like a Tide It continues to Rise up and Meet its Purpose Ever Flowing Into The Verses These Walls I build Higher, Then Higher at the Notion. But as I kept them Bottled up like the Message it held inside, At last tonight they succeed. They Race down my Face Like waves in Steady Motion It Craves Endless Devotion to rid the pressure like I’m shaking like a Manic psychopath. They fled my heart daily. I fight to try hold back the Dam but Damn it it has reached new levels. The tide is much to high that it eclipses the sun. Know I should run but weak and broken are these bones.
Time is the continued progress of existence, past, present, and future as a whole Achieving in an amount of time is goal But don’t let time control you, time will only help joined with your working hand Sometimes it’s better to hand it to time than planned At the end of the day when all is done, you worked so hard to stay fun But you lay in your bed going over what you did wrong Know when to keep trying But know when it’s enough, and let your life be a waiting game Whatever came, will also come Sometimes love is not enough, the run can be tough Nothing is one-sided But with time that will pass us Maybe our timing will become right And our mindsets will meet so things will be more light Or time will show it wasn’t meant to be and I will find my way to a perfect right You say you love my way with words Why couldn’t I find the right words at the time But now I write this and words flow beautifully out of this rhyme When things are out of your control, remember time is on your side When things aren’t going how you planned, remember you tried Don’t forget how you felt that night when you accepted things for how it was and swore you were alright That’s how you truly feel Because now you sit here in the dark swearing everything is a mess and nothing is light The what if’s and what could have been will consume your mind until you lose your sense of right now Time doesn’t wait for any of us, notice what leaves and what life allows Sometimes I feel crazy because I crave a sense of control I found that sense to only drive away what I had as my goal I need to work on being more calm and remembering some things are out of my control You keep holding on in thought of how things use to be But for now it’s not like that anymore, you don’t know who you see Time has hurt but time has also healed When I have done all I could do I sit in my room crying for things to be over But time is all that grew Taking my pain with it too