Twikst

Living in a world between normality and insanity


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The War

The deepest parts of my mind have come out to play. The segment that rarely get airtime raises its voice. The dangerous darkness begins to sing its song once again. But I am not the same person anymore and the Blackness cannot just engulf me without a war. The armies gather on either side. On the right is Recovery, tools I’ve gained armed with suggestions and good intentions, love and serenity. On the left is the Blackness, buried inside of me, wearing the known, the comfortable, spears of negative thoughts and beliefs of shame and unworthiness. The Blackness is putrid, rotten to the core. Old belief systems that are no longer true yet remain just as believable come back to the surface. I struggle to push them back and remind myself that I am loved, I am valued, I am cherished. I have won but the battle still remains. 

I have hope yet death intrigues me. I know reality yet believe the lies. I am torn between the darkness and recovery. On the one side I have everything to live for and on the other there is only suffering. But the darkness pulls, it lies but it comforts. It is known, it is safe. Lies, lies, lies but I believe even when everything and everyone screams otherwise. I fear that one day the darkness will overwhelm me, that I will give in to the nothingness and be surrounded, but not today. Today I fight with everything I have learnt. Today I let the light shine a little brighter. Today I live, even just for a moment longer. Today recovery has won. Tomorrow will be tomorrow and in that day I will fight another battle. In that day hopefully the war will not be lost. For now I relish in the victory that today has brought. I lay my head down and surrender to God that tomorrow another victory will be won and that one day the war will be over for good. 


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Fine but not fine?

maxresdefaultSpent lots of time up in my head today, both spacing out and thinking about what was said in my session and later with my sponsor. Wondering why I was craving so much last night, not just craving but the vivid images that filled my head. Feeling the blade press through the skin and watching the blood seep through the gap. Playing with it as it spirals and leaves tracks of red down my arm. Even now in the late afternoon the image is so real and tangible. I find myself leaving reality and fantasizing about it. Fantasy is all I have though, I can never go back down that road but oh how I want to right now.
This morning I spoke of being disconnected, out of sorts. I realize as I look through the day that yes, I could say disconnected which is a truth in a way, it is more dissociated than anything else. I sit in conversations and feel unreal as though everything is happening around me but not to me. I spend moments just staring off into the distance when I should be focusing on the conversations around me but I don’t feel a part of it. I don’t feel a part of anything at the moment. I think back to the images in my head and wonder why they remain more real than the life around me. Release stands out, pain stands out but denial stands out above everything. Avoidance of what might really be going on, fear of what I maybe don’t want to face. I can’t touch it though and through the day it feels like reality is slipping further and further away.
I don’t feel negative and thoughts like being unworthy or not good enough nip at the edges of consciousness but haven’t seemed to have broken through yet. I still feel generally satisfied with my life and where I am placed in it but I can’t seem to merge the emptiness with being satisfied and I am left confused. I do all the right things, work a solid program but still I am reaching for something and I can’t seem to grasp what it is. As I write this all I have eaten is a small cinnabon which is not nearly enough for the day. I realise that I have not been taking care of myself, not nurturing myself and if I’m honest I don’t care. So at the end of the day I can no longer deny that I am not in a low space but where does it come from.
I immediately want to blame a circumstance but off the top of my head, I tell myself that I am happy, that there is nothing wrong with my life. Is it true, I want it to be but I have just stepped out of financial security, leaving a job. Can this affect so much though? It sounds weird but I don’t want it to be my mood, that means looking at medication and puts me out of control but the more I think about all the symptoms the more I come to think that it might just be my mood. Living with BiPolar sucks, being Borderline sucks even more. I call myself stupid because by now I should know healthy coping mechanisms yet still I slip into melancholy and dreams of slicing my arms up.
The dreams have expanded now. I sit and have a smoke and hold the cigarette as close to my hand as I can without burning it. Playing with temptation but I can’t seem to stop myself. What if I go to far, what would happen if I let the cigarette touch the skin, kept it there until a blister forms? I can’t though, I would shatter so much, I can’t. Is it sad that the thing stopping me is not that it’s unhealthy but rather what others would say, what I would lose. It’s insane and once again I find myself not caring.
Writing this rambling is the first thing that I’ve connected to all day, the first thing I have felt involved in. I don’t want to stop in case I start to feel empty inside again, in case I slip off into the nothingness that has been hovering all day.


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Irritable and Restless

It is that time in my journey where my medication is having to be changed again. This means detoxing of old medication, starting new medication, blood tests, liver functioning tests and new side effects. The reason, well sometimes new side effects pop up or the medication stops working. This time I have a new side effect (we think), irritability and restlessness.

293280-stress-and-angerEverything, and I mean everything, is suddenly irritating me. It is so frustrating and makes me feel so self-centered. Things that I normally enjoy and people I normally love are irritating me. I can’t show it, especially at work, but it is coming up with everything I do. My doctor thinks it is a side effect of the one medication I was on. So now we just stop that medication and try something else. I am running out of options here and it is really frustrating and I just want to cry sometimes.

The other effect, which has been around for a while, is restlessness. I have intermittent restless leg syndrome, whichrestlesslegsyndrome means my legs shake, tap, jiggle, all sorts of things. The worst is at night while I am trying to fall asleep. It gets so bad it keeps me awake. During the day it stops me from concentrating and I have to take regular breaks. Very hard to do when you are studying and have 3 hour classes. Friends who know me laugh at my jiggling legs but sometimes are worse than others. I know they are moving about and I can’t do anything to stop them. It makes me feel so helpless.

The new medication I am on now is supposed to help me get to sleep but I am not so sure because again last night I was still awake after 12 am. So why write about it? Well just giving myself some venting space, helping others know that they aren’t alone and keeping friends and family updated. This is my life and it gets frustrating. Aside from that though I have learnt to mostly deal with all these things and remind myself that it all helps me cope with life better in the long run.

The thing that helps me the most is remembering to hand it over to God. He is the only one who really knows what is going on and I believe and trust that he has a higher purpose for me. Well that’s what life is like for this Borderline, Bipolar, Addict at the moment. Signing out for today.


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The Ability of Choice

It was only a few days ago that Robin Williams passed away and much discussion has already been generated. The topic most discussed in my circles is the that of choice. Why would someone choose to commit suicide and or was is a choice at all. We’ve just had a lovely heated debate at college about the ability of choice (I am studying psychology). So I though I would write down my thoughts on the subject.

So do those who commit suicide choose to do so or is there really no choice in the matter. Let me start by saying that everything in life is a choice and I really do believe that we choose our actions. That said I also want to say that sometimes it feels like we don’t have a choice, that there is only one way. I know this sounds like I am contradicting myself but let me explain further.

If you are offered the choice between R1 or R1,000 with no consequences, most people would say there is no choice take the R1,000. I think it’s similar, while there is a choice it doesn’t feel like it and so we say there was no choice. Another example would be if you were driving along and in front of you was an offramp to the left and a cliff in front of you – is there really a choice?

In my experience with my own depression I rarely stopped to think about whether there was another option. Suicide often felt like the only choice there was. Now my friend at college says but that’s just avoidance and while I agree with her I do not think that in that moment anyone is aware enough to see the choice. So while there may be a choice it is shrouded in darkness.

Let’s say there was a choice, that someone chooses to commit suicide. What are their other choices? Continue to live life with no hope? Continue to feel the absolute pain? Continue to die a little each day. Are these really choices? Wouldn’t you choose to end it all if you life was filled with blackness, hurt, hopelessness?

When it feels like this is all life ever was, ever is and ever will be the choice to live gets taken away. I have been there and only through the love of God, my family and friends that I am still alive. It has taken years of hard work to raise the self-awareness that many who suffer with depression never get. I feel for every one of my compatriots out there who suffer with this illness. Love to you all.


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Everyday

Another poem that I wrote in the midst of all my pain in depression. When I look back at these I realise how dark things got and feel completely blessed and grateful for all the people that helped me get out of that space.

“Never a tear has wet my face, yet everyday I cry

So caught up in all the pain that everyday I die

See me as I pass you like a ghost into the night

Hating myself everyday for these demons that I fight

Everyday I try to be, exactly what you wanted

Yet everyday I find myself by the darkness taunted

Don’t you see, don’t you hear, can’t you understand

This bitterness, this rage in me, I can barely stand

I hate my life, I hate my mind, I hate what I’ve become

A torn and twisted broken soul that lies to everyone”

– written 22 March 2010

I still go there sometimes but the bouts are briefer and not as dark. There is hope and I want people to see that. Depression and Bipolar are not death sentences and we do not have to be held prisoner to them. Thank God that he saved me and stands by me when I struggle.


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Good for the Soul – Part Two

2014.07.18-20 - McGregor Retreat (85)_Snapseed

The first thing that was good for my soul was the doing of something for others which we did on Friday and you can see that blog before this one. The second thing I did this weekend which was good for my soul was doing something for myself and that is exactly what I did. On Friday around lunchtime we packed the car and four of us set off in a stuffed car for McGregor to join a bunch of girls for a girlie weekend looking at Tradition One.

2014.07.18-20 - McGregor Retreat (9)_Snapseed We arrived around five pm and there were already some people there. Unpacked and ready to chill, and chill we did, it was freezing there so I had my beanie, gloves and scarf as well as blanket around me. Fire blazing in the fireplace and I was ready f2014.07.18-20 - McGregor Retreat (223)_Snapseedor the weekend.

What followed was one of the most amazing weekends that I have had in a long time. A weekend filled with making new friends, getting intimate and trusting others. I have never felt so vulnerable and safe at the same time. I must thank each and every lady there for making this weekend happen and playing a part in helping me grow.

Can’t wait for the next one. I feel refreshed and ready to take on the world and my life again. I really needed this break and time away, the love and respect I got was an added bonus. Sending love out to all the ladies who were with me this weekend.


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See my heart bleed

Was looking through some old notebooks and found one filled with poetry that I had written in a time of great struggle. So nobody panic, this is not how I feel. I just wanted to post it up for others who might relate and so that people will know recovery is possible. So here it is:

Cut, burn, listen, return
See my heart bleed from the inside and learn
You watched me like I was never there
Eyes glazed over, a vacant stare
Hide, lie, reject me, I die
When I am gone will you remember to cry
Silent tears, a memory
When will you listen, when will you see
Blood, pain, hate and disdain
Confused and alone, I try to refrain
I use a blade, an expression of words
The only way I know how to be heard
– written 30 January 2010

So there it is, that’s how I used to feel. Alone and unheard but things are better now. I have a voice again and am trying to use it. It isn’t always easy but it’s getting better everyday.

If you are out there and struggling with addiction, self-harm, depression, etc. get some help. Open up to someone. You are not alone unless you choose to be. There are people out there who love you and want to help. Good luck.