Today I sat myself in a tub in my bootleg homemade sensory deprivation tank because my dreams are horrible….again. The sensory deprivation tank probably isn’t a good idea because all of my dreams involve me drowning and waking up in the middle of the night in a complete panic. This is why I go to sleep so early that way when I fall asleep and wake up 36373 times it isn’t horrible. I am on different medicine for sleep we also upped the other medicine to help, but I honestly think I actually need to bite the dust and see someone. They aren’t getting any better and nothing is helping not even my bootleg version of a sensory deprivation tank. I don’t want to go through the issues of trying to find a therapist my insurance covers, making an appointment, filling out the mound of paperwork only to find out they suck and I have to start over again as you can tell I’ve been burned by therapist quite a few times. I just don’t want to talk about all my feelings and relive the terrible horrible awful thing that happened because that dream is super fun to have again and again until we can “work it out.” The point is to not feel like this anymore. I’ve gone to counselors who have “sweetly” told me that I need a psycho therapist……Thanks because I needed you to reassure me that I am that paranoid and delusional as I feel. I feel like it should be a free if you like me then pay me situation. I realize that isn’t fair to the therapist, but neither is me paying to stare at you the first two or three visits to sum up whether or not I like or trust you. I promised my psychiatrist I would find a therapist and I am about to run out of luck on that. I can only postpone it for so long before he starts talking about in patient treatment. Those are words of death to anyone in the mental health community “inpatient” gives me chills thinking about it. If you’ve been lucky enough to escape it thus far keep it up. You DO NOT want to go to the psych hospital. It is hard sometimes to know what is right and what is wrong. I just need to get it figured out. I am dreading the process.
I know this confuses people because of so many stigmas but I am bipolar strong. We are going to change the generic symptoms and complications and make them positives for me and hopefully you(the best I can.)
- Substance abuse- been there done that.It was prescription. I emerged from it better and more open to share my story.
- Legal problems- Knock on wood never arrested/potentially could’ve been legal problems if people weren’t so understanding of my illness.
- Financial problems or crises- Chapter 13 bankruptcy. I got the mark on my credit score for the next 7 years to prove it.
- Relationship troubles- Yeah every relationship with me is complicated. I’ve learned from this how understanding and open minded can be and how it is important to make sure the RIGHT people are in your life.
- Isolation and loneliness- I need this sometimes. I need the isolation as time to sleep and calm down especially when my anxiety feels uncontrollable. There is a difference and stepping away for a minute then completely shutting everyone off but I do think in the right capacity it is healthy for everyone.
- Promiscuous behavior- I am fortunate enough to never have this problem.
- Poor work or school performance- Please note the 13,000 in student loans and about 12 parts of a degree. I am an almost expert in a lot of subjects. I would always get so pumped up and then mood would change, money would change and I would lose focus or interest and obsess over something new. I am okay with that though because it meant that I got experience in things I never may have otherwise. I also believe that about my jobs too. I’ve done some wild and crazy things good and bad they have all taught me so much especially about myself.
- Missed work or school- Yep and I was consistent. It just better proved that my work was understanding and were able to be there for me through the crisis.
- Suicidal thoughts or attempts- I can’t even begin to count how many or how often this happened. I can recognize warning signs that may be hard for other people to notice who haven’t been or are use to or know. I see little things that remind me of times when I was bad and I try to help in a way that is benefiting to everyone.
I AM BIPOLAR STRONG!!!!!
CAN YOU TAKE YOUR ILLNESS AND MAKE IT FROM A NEGATIVE TO ANY POSITIVES?
I found something today that was a big part of my past in a positive way. These are the things that made a difference in my life. It involves people who made a huge impact in my life. It made me sad to see it I miss these people so much and no they aren’t dead they just moved away and are no longer around anymore. I miss them so much and I know they are tired of hearing from me so much but their presence helps so much. This is a short update.
*Disclosure: I am writing this during Sunday School and church service but I am still listening.*
This is a bathroom. It isn’t fancy it is just a bathroom it has a toilet, sink and a mirror. It has a little bit of decorations old beige tiles the grout is stained the white walls are old with paint chipping off in places but this little bathroom saved my life. It only seems fit to tell you that this is one of the bathrooms at our church and in this very bathroom I tried to hang myself with my sweater after I took a bunch of Xanax. When you are fluffy like me trying to hang yourself is a bit more difficult especially in a bathroom with nothing to hang from but when you are high on pills you can become creative so I used the doorknob. It was a random day the church was open with no one around. (They don’t do that much anymore.) I was so numb, suicidal and my brain kept reminding me what a piece of shit I was, an inconvenience to everyone around me. When you are suicidal you go to this place and once you are there it is so hard to get out of but my heart told me to go to the church. It just happened to be open so I went in the bathroom and sat there for the longest time and just cried. I think everything built up so high that crying was the only thing I could do to knock it down, but it still didn’t work so I reached in my pocket for the few Xanax I stashed away staring at them mostly because I was high but realistically because I thought this is it these 3 Xanax are going to be what does me in. I dry swallowed them and I could feel the pain as they scratched their way down my throat. I sat for what felt like hours and nothing happened (It wasn’t hours) I was ready for it to be over with I don’t know what was taking so long then I decided to help the process. I took off my sweater wrapped it around my neck and then wrapped it around the doorknob and pulled until it was tight enough. I remember laying there saying the Lords Prayer asking for his forgiveness knowing I wasn’t worthy of any of it but just as I felt like I was drifting away I heard a voice and I wish I could remember what it said or what it is more than likely it was the hallucinations or schizophrenia but I like to believe it was God. I don’t know how I survived that day but I believe that He is the reason I am here doing this and spreading the word about how you can survive this too.
*This situation did happen but parts were changed to for privacy reasons however if these individuals keep running their mouths about all of it. I will put the truth out there with screenshots to match. *
Here we go:
- 20 views a day (If I post more this will happen)
- Post at least 2 times a week (I need to commit to more but we will start there)
- Document workout/daily post
- Post at least 6 Bipolar Chronicles
- 80 subscribers
- Total likes for the month: 300
- Total views for the month: 1500
- Total visitors (hopefully become subscribers) 2000
None of this is possible without you. I love you bunches.
My husband is proud of me but not in the way others might think. Of course he brags to people about my blog and Instagram accounts but he is proud of me. He is proud of how strong I am when I need to be, how weak I can be and the ability to show when I’m vulnerable. He is proud after years of hiding my emotions I tell him now when I’m overwhelmed when my anxiety is so bad I can’t actually communicate properly. He is proud of me because I communicate with him and even the tiniest detail can make a huge difference. He is proud of me for being open about my illness and sharing even the hardest of stories. He is proud to see the person I’m becoming and being a part of this amazing person he’s always known was in there but waited to come out. He understands when I don’t want to eat or shower but encourages me anyway with simple things that will make me happy about it. When I hear him say he is proud of me I get tears in my eyes because I remember the old days. He is proud of me and while he can’t combat things like my wife ran a half marathon with my wife took a shower for the first time in days. I know he is proud of me.