I broke again today. The earth shattering at my feet became a mountain beneath my toes of all the things I should try to hold back. Hold it back. Deny yourself the freedom of expression because it will linger upon your wrists. Stop yourself here. I try to stop myself in my tracks but I end up getting stuck in the mud and there's no one here to help me out so I end up sinking again. As the waste reaches my mouth I am silenced. The will I had to bring myself out of this mold has vanished and I am a sinking ship once again. No one ever tells you how to cope. How to trace your fingers across scares you've made for yourself- how to turn this madness into something so beautiful. No one knows what it's like.
I was 17 when I discovered I had manic depression- the words left my therapists lips like they were an execution notice. "This isn't a diagnosis" she muttered "This is who you are, who you've always been it's not a death sentence". But why did I feel as if I was being sent to death row- to be hung by the noose I had made myself out of tragedy and molestation and abuse. There were no flowers at this burial. Just a long awaited sigh of relief. I always knew I wasn't like everyone else. She drew me a picture of what it was like- there were five stages of the imbalance living in my bones. Major depression, dysthymia, normalcy, hypomania and mania- she drew me a picture like she was trying to map me out like she was drawing a Ned's declassified Bipolar Survival guide- She explained it well. How the days of normalcy tend to come and go again and again but the mania and the major depression pack their bags and stay awhile. The major depression is like a visit from a mentally abusive family member that makes a point to tell you what the **** is wrong with you when you already know, you tell yourself the same things everyday. But the mania is like you're fun aunt that buys you beer and tells you it's okay to **** whoever you want. Get that piercing, dye your hair, who gives a ****? The world is yours and the endorphin high you're on- yeah that's your best ******* friend. That's the aunt you wish you could be- and sometimes they take you out on dinner dates- they'll tell you how horrible you are and remind you of all the things you have to be worried about. They fill your head with nonsense and anxiety- they convince you life would be better without you. But then you remember what the mania feels like when it's just the both of you bonding over ice cream and spending too much money on thing you don't need- you don't ever want her to leave.. "The mania is why most people don't get help" she said.
Mental illnesses are like actual illnesses- they're a chemical imbalance in your brain and you don't tell someone with diabetes "Oh hey, just think that you're insulin is fine and it will be" It doesn't ******* work like that. See the Norepinephrine ran away when I was young and the lack their of decided to hangout with serotonin. They became best friends- so I became the third wheel and suddenly they both just stopped coming around. I found a journal from when I was seven- It said, "I don't want to be here anymore." Most seven year old were taking care of furby's or watching saturday morning cartoons- But me? I wanted to end my life like it was another ******* rerun of the same episode you ******* hated and all you want to do is turn it the ******* but there's really nothing else on TV so you watch anyway. Idly sitting there as you're hating every second- But I'm still alive. And these hands have dealt with more than just cuts and pills bottles that became empty with mania that became worse- I'm staring blankly at this page she drew for me. Mapping out my mania like it's roller coaster tycoon I think I'll call it Avalanche because ever since I was labeled as having "Manic Depression", I've been climbing my battles ever since- even though some days, they try to fight back. There was a word to the way I was feeling and a map to express it. I felt like when I was young and I led Dora to the correct place- all because of the map guiding her to her destination. My therapist gave me the map- she drew my way into understanding. I haven't found my way home quite yet- but at least I now know where I'm going.
this is about my manic depression, I got really inspired.