“I am tired of your mental illness running our lives.”
No truer words have ever been spoken to me. This is my purgatory.
And what am I to say to that? Like it is a fucking choice I am making!
So I keep it inside, where it can’t hurt anyone. But we all know how that will turn out.
I am tired of MY mental illness ruining my life! Ha! How many times have I said that?
And the ride continues…
Love. Lady B.
Well this is an all to formiliar feeling. To bad it wasn’t for you as well, maybe then it would be easier for both of us?
Yup! the look is the same no matter who is casting it a me; frustrated, confused, upset and finally one of two things: sad or mad.
Does not matter how it ends really, my response is never the right one. No by this point in the incident, I am so far gone I only make the situation worse.
And that’s what it is another incident, another reason for them to question everything, another excuse to walk away.
But that’s not fair for me to call it an “excuse” when I myself would love to have a reason to runaway. To hide from the very essence that is me.
So what do we do? What do I do? Take more meds, different meds until I feel like a fucking science experiment gone awry!
Put my body through hell and back with all the different chemicals and toxins floating in my blood. Weirdly hoping something good will come of it?
What started out as a fairy tale, is now a carnival ride gone wrong. But no one ever said this would be easy.
I bet you didn’t know there was a time that I use to try and hide my Bipolar. Tried to hide my highs and lows from family, friends, co-workers and bosses. I feared the persecution of others. Truth is…I still do.
Having a mental illness is an instant stigma that is attached to you for the rest of your life. Even if you build your life to suite your needs completely, people will always know that you are different.
Now I am not discounting anyone who suffers from depression, season affectiveness or any of the milder forms of mental illness, as I believe everyone has their own cross to bare. Right now I am reaching out to a specific type, you know who you are.
The poor unfortunate souls who are given the same body and mind as others, except they don’t have full control of it. What I mean is their mind; The people who require medication to just “fit in” to be a “functioning member of society”. As hard as that is for most people to understand, it is even harder to have to live with.
Not a day goes by, that I don’t wish I didn’t have to take medication to be accepted in this world. And I know I am not the only one who feels this way.
So to all you lovely people struggling with or prospering!, just remember you are not alone and hopefully one day we will have the freedom we all truly desire.
The look of confusion and disapointment spreads across your face, as the words that I say fall on your ears.
The look on your face says so many things, and I can’t help but feel as though it is somehow my fault like I let all of this just happen. As if I had a choice.
The worst part is I am just as surprised as you are. I don’t see what is happening to me right away, sometimes it takes days, weeks, months to realize there is a problem.
But that doesn’t change anything for you, for you it just seems like I am pulling this out of thin air!
None of this is a choice for me. I know that is hard to understand for someone that has full cognitive ability over their mind. I am just as much on this ride as you are.
If I could flip a switch and change to make this easier for everyone, don’t you think I would? I feel bad everyday that I have to expose the people I care most about to so much uncertinty and instability. It breaks my heart.
I feel I need to apologize, as I fear the worst is yet to come.
Depression is not the same to everyone, we all know this. My depression looks nothing like yours and never will; not that I am special we are just different.
My world turned upside down is another person’s Monday.
When you look at a person you never get to see the darkness or light within them. You never get to hear their soul.
That would be a completely different experience, seeing someone not as a person but as colours and sounds emanating from their body. The world would be a completely different place, we wouldn’t view people or situations the same.
What colour would you be?
It’s been a very long time since I reached out on here, but now seems like the right time to come back to this place.
I started this space as a means to communicate with the outside world and talk about myself and my journey with Bipolar. I know I am no different than most other people that experience life as a Bipolar, but I am my own person, with my own personality and my own set of human issues.
So with that I also experience my own fair share of interesting and sometimes exciting times. Some times on my own, but also with others. The “others” in my life…. that what helps keep me grounded and centered and remind me of what is really important.
Not a day goes by that I am not grateful that I found my people, the constants in my life. In having said this there is not a day that goes by that I do not think about what I have to do in order for me to maintain, protect and grow my relationships with the people I care about most in this life.
I am Bipolar. Everyday I have an internal battle within myself and my mind about how my mind works and how I perceive things. For the most part I can maintain some level of normality within my life, but I am not exempt from the tiresome trials and tribulations that Bipolar people are forced to endure.
It doesn’t really matter the exact diagnosis or the specific type of the illness you have; if you have experienced a dramatic or rapid shift in your mind and psyche, that has caused you to reevaluate or even go so far as to actually change something about yourself. Than you my friend know what it is like for me.
This journey has been by far one of the hardest things I have ever had to endure in my life and the thought that I will have to deal with it for the rest of my life, with the risk of the rapid decline of my mental state is definitely not a comforting thought.
Everyday I fight a battle that nobody sees and many don’t even believe exists, but that does not change the truth for me. The worst is being accused of “using your illness as an excuse”.
Anyone who believes that I actually have a choice in the matter can stop reading right now and do us all a favor…DON”T EVER SHARE YOUR OPTION ON THE SUBJECT AGAIN!!!
Your thoughts are not helpful nore are you doing any one a service by speaking about or even forming an option on something you know nothing about. I an NOT saying I am an expert on the subject, I merely am drawing from my own life experiences. So with that being said, what should I touch on first???
LOVE, Lady B.
She didn’t want to be a bother.
She never wanted to cause discomfort,
but she couldn’t help feel the sting of the situation.
She knew he wasn’t trying to hurt her.
She knew that he loved her,
but there was always the question of what if.
She knew it was petty.
She never wanted to be vain,
but she couldn’t help but be herself.
She knew this feeling would pass, as they always do.
But she couldn’t help it in wanting to say fuck you!
I know so little about her, yet we were once close. From a distance she seems so foreign to me, but as I get near I begin to recognize her.
She is a quiet one with a heart of gold, that you can see in her eyes. I wish I knew her better for I feel she has so much to give. The intelligence is obvious the moment she speaks a word.
She is shy but feisty with a light in her eyes I don’t even think she knows is there.
I know this girl, I was much like her even though she probably would never believe it.
A lost soul grasping for a hand to hold on to anything to keep her from drowning in her own thoughts and fears.
I can sense the fear, but I hope she stronger than it for I know one day it could take her away.
Love, Lady B.
Taking in the view, a few steps away.
Always watching, but never engaging.
She watches him, watching her, longing for his touch; even though she knows it would mean nothing.
He doesn’t truly want her, she is but a novelty, something to be taken out, paraded around for display purposes only.
His touch is cold regardless of the warmth of his hands.
She isn’t good enough for him, she knows this.
He is a God, a titan of sorts.
She stares longingly and wishes he would just end it already, cut the cord, sever the non-existent grasp he holds on her.
But she cares for him to much to say anything.
She doesn’t have the power to do it herself.
For he is her god, her titan.
Lady B.
Lady BLeigh ~Anti-Socialite~ 