Hiding my depression is exhausting

Yep it’s back the overwhelming feeling of anxiety and a low that feels impossible. There is so much going on around me with everyone who knows and helps with my illness I haven’t said anything. I don’t want anyone to know that I’m starting to get bad again. I don’t know if it’s because of the job change though I think that might have something to do with it. I knew at my old job I could be honest about my feelings and I can’t here this isn’t the type of place where you openly share this information. I made the decision not to disclose my illness and I still stand with that decision. I try to explain it to my husband but how do you put it into words even if I start there aren’t words it’s like my brain just stops working. I get up some mornings not knowing what to expect and I thought with all the medicine that I would have the ability to control the moods and know who I am in the morning but that isn’t always the case.  I know that it takes more than medicine for it to work but I openly refuse therapy. Therapy has do nothing over time but cause me more issues maybe it is because I can’t handle the issues and my coping mechanisms suck. I don’t know what to do I’m just so frustrated right now. This was really for me just to vent because I don’t know what else to do. My brain isn’t firing on all cylinders right now. Does anyone else have this problem or understand? 

Taking off the mask of depression

 

19%

I had my 6 month check up with my psychiatrist today and we were speaking openly about suicide after admitting that I was having suicidal thoughts. We were also discussing the differences in being suicidal and having suicidal thoughts (that is a different post.) He said that 19% of people diagnosed with bipolar disorder take their own life and that equals like 1 in 5. Those odds are shocking for some reason. If you think about the big picture 2.3 million Americans are diagnosed with bipolar disorder. If I did my math right that equals out to 437,000 people. That means there are 437,000 people contemplating suicide most with no support from anyone.I am one of the biggest supporters for the AFSP but how do we fix this? What can we as the mental health community do to combat these odds? There are so many people who can’t afford medicine, therapy let alone see a psychiatrist to properly diagnose and help them. This is something we need to recognize and help each other. We aren’t going to receive any help from the government and there is so much of a stigma attached to us people refuse to publicly support it unless it is a celebrity who claimed to “recover” from it. We need to speak openly and honestly about our struggles. I think we can be the change if we become more comfortable being open and knowing even though they might not understand we can make them care. 1 person loss to suicide is 1 too many. Let’s start the conversation and help decrease these numbers.

Bipolar Chronicles – Bathroom that saved my life

*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. *