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.
Today I was so productive it is amazing how much I can get done if I just focus on my tasks at hands I knocked out 15 blog entries and a lot on my Instagram. Today my dreams felt like they are coming more naturally and I’m getting ready for big things that are possibly coming soon. I am making such a huge difference in my life and it is the positive outlook I need to make myself feel a little better. I need to find these small miracles amongst everything that is going on to make me feel better.
*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. *
If you haven’t read the first post entitled suck my dick. I wrote a letter to a bitchy mom on Instagram for my content but now it’s time for a second volume for the general public.
SUCK MY DICK VOL. 2
– Stop pill shaming people. Yes I take almost 1500 mg of medication a day and the reason I can function is because of said medication. I don’t ask you why you take 600 mg of ibuprofen Barbara so mind your own fucking business.
– If you make any comment that may suggest that my illness is weird I will lick my hand and wipe it on you. Just so you can “catch” it too. (That is totally how it works btw)
– On the pill shaming- don’t ask what it’s for and say yeah you need it….. You didn’t even know what was for 2 seconds ago.
– We get to make the jokes, it isn’t cute when you say, “hey I’m a little bipolar too.” It doesn’t work like that bitch. It’s not an adjective to describe your current mood. It is an actual illness. I don’t say omg my toe is so broken today. Yeah sounds stupid don’t be a dick.
– Lastly just don’t be a dick…. if it sounds stupid, ignorant, and rude then just DON’T BE A DICK!!
If you want to question the fact that I don’t have a dick just remember it’s probably bigger than yours.