Depression takes a lot from you; your time, your memories, your
It takes things you didn't realize you had to lose
It takes your health, your drive, your mind
It takes your silence
Once the defending noise starts it never ends
Once one thought is formed the rest come like raindrops in a storm
Once you hear the words it tells you never forget them
Once the silence is gone it seems like the noise will never stop
The moment I knew I was getting better when I listen to music and
Every note, instrument, and vocal that played I heard
Every sound felt like a concert in the back of my head
Every thought I had was my own
Every single thought that was formed was given permission to
I am grateful for a lot, my family, my friends
I am grateful for the time, memories, and opportunities I get to
But most of all
I am grateful for the silence in my head that let me own my own
Friends and family often ask me what suffering from bipolar is like
I always give the same cookie-cutter response.
It is comprised of really high highs
It also has really low lows and
If you are fortunate enough you have periods of baseline.
I have never been able to explain that complexity in my head.
I was never been able to explain the pain and suffering that has been happening for over 8 years.
I was never able to explain that the lows are sometimes last months or years of hate and self-loathing.
I was never able to explain the thought never stops you can not eat, sleep, or breathe without feeling pain.
I was never able to explain that you feel like your drowning and
you are using all your energy to stay afloat that it is easier to just give up some time and sink.
I was never able to explain that everything is spinning out of control that you cling on to anything you can.
I was never able to explain that the hurtful thing I caused to myself
was out of survival to show to myself I could still control
something, anything in a place that feels like you will never feel stable again.
I was never able to explain how the highs are not highs they are a
monster dressed as an angle that seduces you to believe that things are better.
I was never able to explain how that demon pushes you past all your limits until you find yourself alone and drained.
I was never able to explain the addiction to the feeling of happiness that comes on occasions with the highs
I was never able to explain that after living in darkness for so long the high is all you can ask for even if you know it will hurt you.
If I had to explain to people now what it is like to suffer from bipolar disorder is like, I would say it is exhausting.
The thoughts never end.
They never stop no matter how depressed or manic you are.
You lie awake all night because you can not silence them.
You wake up before sunrise because your awoken by the racing of the thoughts.
Your brain never stops.
You are left on the floor immobilized unable to do anything but listen to your head feeding you lies.
You are left with a body that can no longer function.
You are left exhausted and that feeling never goes away.
If I had to describe bipolar disorder in one word it would be
I said this would not happen again
I told myself I would not let it
I said I was deserving
I said nothing less of a princess
I allow him to push me around
I allow him to make me feel small
I allow him to say the things he wants because
They’re just words
They’re just jokes
They’re meant to be funny
They’re not met to be taken seriously
But I guess
The fat on my stomach told me he is not wrong
The cellulite in my thighs nodded with his words
The hair on my face agreed with every word he spoke
The slab of fat on my arm swung in agreeance
I found myself deciding my self-worth on
How many times he said I was beautiful
How many times he said he loved me
How many times he let go of my hand when people approached him
How many times he cared to open any door for me
I said I had changed
I said I was better
I said I love me
You broke me
You left behind a person I don't recognize
You left me
Back to square one
I hate the feeling you gave me when you looked at me. The feeling of butterflies and peace I felt all throughout my body.
2. I hate the feeling of safety I felt when you held me in your arms. The way my head laid perfectly on your shoulder. The way I wanted to stay there forever.
3. I hate the feeling of warmth that traveled through my body when you held my hand. The way I felt protected by the fact that we were linked together in that brief moment in time.
4. I hate the way I felt when I heard your heart racing when you hugged me. The reassurance I felt knowing that you felt just a nervous as I did.
5. I hate the way you made me feel when you held my waist and pulled me as close to you as you possibly could. The feeling of pride you expressed knowing you had me in your arms and you thinking that was the best feeling in the world.
6. I hate the way I felt when I heard you talking. The way I was entranced by your voice. The way that sweet tune made me melt into soft hands.
7. I hate the way you always knew how to make me laugh. The way your humor was never too much. The way you always got me to smile no matter what.
8. I hate the way you made me feel when you went out of your way to spend time with me even when you were incredibly busy. The way you would show up at places you know I would be at just for us to have a small conversation.
9. I hate the way you make me think of you all day and all night. The way I can’t get you out of my mind. The way the memory of your smile is forever stuck in my mind.
10. I hate the way you left without a word and never came back. The way you moved on and left me standing in the past. The way you left me here still loving everything about you.
I am not a book
I am not a poster
I am not someone you can read
I am not someone who shows her emotions.
I have a constant battle in me
I have a voice in my head saying “You got this!”
I have another voice saying “You’re worthless!”
I have a tornado of emotions that will not stop spinning.
You have seen me
You have heard me but
You have never known me.
I hide in dark corners
I hide from you
I hide from them
I hide from myself.
What am I afraid of?
Or maybe all of it.
With truth comes judgment and
With love comes pain.
So I hide
I bury everything
I bury sadness
I bury happiness
I bury loneliness
I bury anger
I bury joy.
But when it gets to be too much it bursts.
Everything and anything that stands in the way of that explosion gets demolished
I am a broken person
I am a ticking time bomb
I am not a book.
— The End —