Author Archives: scarletsomething

What exactly do you do when you’ve had the therapy, taken and continue to take the meds, do all the self care you can, apply the coping skills and it still doesn’t prevent these down cycles mixed with cognitive issues from taking you down? My brain is fucking Swiss cheese and I would probably forget to go to the bathroom lately if it weren’t for my colon issues. The holes in my thought processes are worsening… I can remember pieces but not the full picture, words are on the tip of my tongue and do not come to me, my ability to multitask has decreased and my working memory is shot. I can’t get my sentences out and get immensely irritated when people don’t give me a moment to figure out what I’m trying to say. Sounds, light, temperature, the feeling of certain things on my skin make me want to scream. I feel assaulted by normal, ordinary things. I get around this at work by always writing things down and in my daily life by keeping several lists in my iPhone to remind me of this or that. My attention span, focus and ability to concentrate are shot. I don’t feel like “me” unless I’m alone with my thoughts or working on projects in my home. I can’t normally interact with people as of late unless I’m playing a role, such as who I am at work, or how a customer is supposed to act and I find myself withdrawing. Hermiting. My anxiety is at a level it hasn’t been in years and it seems I’m eating my Klonopin like TicTacs.

I’ve had vivid, disturbing dreams for years…I now find myself having vivid, disturbing thoughts and urges I have to shake from my brain and they leave me thinking “where the fuck did that even come from?!” My agitation level is as such that the sound of someone’s fingernails tapping against anything makes me want to lunge and I’ve never, ever been a violent person.

I work 2 jobs, live alone, pay all my bills, make all my own decisions, and am a fairly intelligent, well spoken, creative woman….and I can’t make any of this stop. I rapid cycle almost constantly but this is different. This feels like my brain is sick and becoming sicker… This feels like me digging my nails into what sanity I have and hanging on for dear life…but falling anyway into somewhere I haven’t been in years.

I’m educated enough in my disease to understand that many things going on in my life would drive anyone mad, or into a clinical depression, especially someone with BPD. That logic doesn’t help me however. I feel like I should be able to make this all stop so I can just remain a functional human being, capable of menial shit like going to the grocery store or watching a movie with a friend without it seeming and/or being so daunting and exhausting.

No one in my life knows it’s this bad. No one. It helps nothing when they do and I don’t think anyone could handle the truth anyway, without treating me like I was mentally retarded instead of mentally ill. You can only increase a persons medications so much when they’re employed and I certainly cannot add a medication fog on top of what ever the fuck is happening to my brain right now. A hospital stay really does nothing for some other than over medicate them for a few days, make them feel like they’re surrounded by crazy people (because well…) when they just want to be at home, feel shamed by being there in the first place while sitting in some stupid group therapy circle that helps no one who functions above a High School level and put you so far behind on your bills that you face eviction and cut off notices. Yeah. What a wonderful thing to come home to.

There’s nothing. Not one single fucking thing I can do that I haven’t already done or am not currently doing to help maintain any better. The circumstances surrounding this depressive episode are far from over and haven’t even gotten to their worst. I’m so. Incredibly. Exhausted. With life.

I am lonely, yet I want to be left alone. I pace and pace while my mind churns, walking from room to room not ever knowing quite where to stop or what to do. I sit. I want to write but it’s as though I’m out of words and I want to hand over my brain to someone and say “here, this. This is what’s going on in here.” I’m tired. So absolutely tired.

I play a character just to get through the day, go through the motions and tell myself these down cycles pass. That it won’t last forever and I have to hang on until it clears, even if I don’t want to.

I fight and have fought, hard, not to become a statistic because of my BiPolar disorder, family history, sexual orientation and socioeconomic background. Right now, it seems that I am anyway.

Over a long past due conversation, my relationship ended yesterday and my girlfriend is moving out, after only being here for 4 months. (Dating almost 2 years) I am now that mid 30’s something lesbian going through yet another breakup which will more than likely trigger a depressive episode. I’m not the typical lesbian in terms of getting involved quickly with woman but the end result seems to be the same. The abruptness of this one came as quite a shock to me however, even though I knew there were issues. Some issues just cannot be overcome…

I don’t know how to keep things like this from further reinforcing my reluctance to get close to, or bond to people, despite my want to. I feel both lonely and like being alone and suppose I’m still in a bit of shock.

I still do not have full use of the hand that was injured and some of my fingers are still unable to fully extend or grip, despite various visits to specialists and intensive physical therapy. In obtaining copies of my medical records from the hospital stay to take to another hand surgeon, I found that my BiPolar and anxiety disorder was prominently listed along with the description of my injuries by every single Dr I saw at the 2 hospitals I stayed at. “Patient was injured when blah blah blah and has a history of BiPolar and anxiety disorder,” “Patient is unable to ambulate blah blah blah fingers, blood culture reveals blah blah blah results and has a history of BiPolar and anxiety disorder,” “surgical evaluation at this time reveals blah blah blah and patient has a history of BiPolar and anxiety disorder,” etc etc etc. It’s not even as though my mental health disorders played a part in this, were a contributing factor in my treatment plan, or something that would have been evident to any hospital staff, aside from my truthful answers about health history and medications I take. I was calm, pleasant to all hospital staff and didn’t throw the fit I wanted to in response to the constant pain I was experiencing despite heavy narcotics.

It’s like a flag on my records, not listed along with my general health history along with my other health issues, but listed predominantly. A flag that says “this patient is BiPolar, watch out,” I didn’t sleep for almost 3 days due to the pain and I am grateful that a breakdown didn’t happen until I got home, when I was alone.

Every single day I work hard to keep my disorders in check, manage several different health issues, chronic spinal pain, go to work, do freelance work and maintain my household independently. I am also currently sick (some sort of flu-like plague) and have pressing things I need to complete both at home and with editing a shoot I managed to do a few days ago. Since my hand injury I’ve had to cancel or reschedule 3 shoots because I could not even hold my camera, which means a bigger financial hit as well. It’s a downward spiral affect and I’m so. Fucking. Tired. I’ve done all the self care I can and I need a break. Badly. Maybe even some help, which is hard for me to ask for but that’s another topic in and of itself.

I’m unable to crash and burn, there’s nowhere other than here for me to land. I don’t want this to be my reality…but it is…and I manage the best I can…all the while mentally flogging myself for not doing or being better.