On October 6, 2018, I was diagnosed with bipolar one. I struggled all my life with mental issues, but never knew exactly what the pinpoint of these issues were. It wasn’t until I moved to Pennsylvania that I was able to get evaluated by a mental health institution who, in my opinion, knew what the hell they were talking about. When living in NY, I was told I was ADHD and they put me on adderall. I was on 20 milligrams and it did absolutely nothing for me. I would fall asleep all day and not complete any committments. I was never sleeping at night and my days were horrendous.
Then I came here and I started therapy in New Jersey. It’s more group then individual and it has benefited me in many ways. I’ve learned how to cope with my issues and control my emotional roller coaster so that my feelings aren’t all over the place. I’ve learned how to use positive affirmations to ease my mind and worries, breathing techniques to help control my anxiety, and so many other skills that have made life…somewhat easier.
But it doesn’t always work. The fact is that I am a mess. Being here has opened a lot of creepy doors. I’ve heard, learned, and seen so many things within my family, my past, and my present. Supressed memories now vivid in HD in the front of my mind. Nightmares are back, the body aches and pains, the migraines, but worst of all, the depression.
Yesterday was a bad day. The crazy part is, I didn’t know I was sad until it was time to head to Trenton to pick up the father of my boys. It was 8:22pm and I got into my car, put the key in the ignition, turned it, my hand dropped, then it started. The tears. The waterfalls just began nonstop. I got to the Trenton train station a few minutes early so I decided to call my mom. I usually call her when I am sad and we talk, but this time no. This time was different. I couldn’t talk to her. I could not open my mouth and seek comfort from her words. So I pretended everything was ok and hung up.
That’s when I realized how alone I was. Nobody. I have no one. I don’t even have myself. I am strugglng to find a purpose, and I have no idea where to start. I don’t know what my purpose is or if I even have one. I realized that I have fallen back into a depression and I have no clue why. I just wanted to cry. Crawl into bed and sleep so I didn’t have to feel this horrible emptiness that is consuming me.
My boyfriend got in the car and he assumed that I was sick. I looked at him and he just panicked. He begged me to tell him what was wrong and I didn’t have an answer. How can I tell you what is wrong with me when I don’t even know myself? I turned to him and cried and said “I wanna go home.” Like, NY home, not PA home because at least in NY I knew I would be surrounded by so many people that there would be no room for me to feel this way. There would be no time for me to feel down and cry. I knew that at least if I were home, I would be so busy entertaining others that I wouldn’t be able to entertain my feelings and drown in this invisible hurt and pain.
Today is no better than yesterday. Today is probably worse and what makes this more dreadful is the fact that I am alone. I don’t trust anyone not even my family because since bringing them in and introducing them to the reality of my bipolarism, I feel like it’s just leverage for them to blame every single thing that goes wrong in our lives on me and I have not been proven different thus far.
Conquering this illness is very hard. Especially when you’re alone, because all you want to do is submit to your emotions and do the absolute opposite of what you should do. There is a dark cloud over me that never goes away. I’m struggling to break it into pieces. I am trying to conquer these demons, and I am trying to find my purpose. Life has thrown me so many curve balls. I am tired of trying to catch them and figure things out. I don’t know who I am anymore. I wish things were so different. I didn’t ask to be this way. I didn’t ask to go through everything I went through.
I just want to be normal.