Swimming upstream

Apologies for the post being so late this week but I have been struggling to find the motivation to write and also been unsure of what to write about. Since I know so many of you often feel the same I decided to just write about how I am feeling right now and the apathy that has entered my world. This year has been a particularly difficult year for me, from the onslaught of my episode in March nothing has quite come right yet and I am starting to forget what being me feels like. I seem to have moments of thinking everything is getting better and things are returning to normal only to lapse into melancholy or lose my motivation for anything a few days later.

I do not feel depressed, I do not feel manic, I do not feel much at all. The emotions are still there but muted, like a cellphone which is on vibrate instead of ringing. I get up every day, I go to work, I honour the commitments I have made to go to meetings or social engagements but I feel no spark. Instead, I feel exhausted, exhausted with the energy it takes to keep moving, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I am ‘okay’, using the term to mean what a counsellor once told me. When I first went into the clinic, I and many others there, used the word ‘OK all the time. We had no idea how we really felt or were so used to lying that it was easier to just say we were okay or fine despite how we were really feeling. In one of the lectures a counsellor banned the word and explained that being okay is not enough, that in war when soldiers are dying on the battlefield, medics would run around trying to assist as many as they could. In order to make their jobs easier soldiers would say they were ‘OK’ if they were hurt but not in need of immediate help. (I don’t know if the story is true or not but I like the explanation and it gets the message across) I am okay, I am hurting but I am not dying yet. Do you feel like this sometimes? Do you know others who feel like this?

For months I have been struggling with my sleep, since leaving the clinic in April actually. Some nights I get a mere hour or two of sleep, if I am lucky I manage to get up to four hours but not often. I feel absolutely exhausted. Everything exhausts me, talking to people, thinking, showing up, just being awake. I don’t know what to do though. Most medications do not work, I follow strict sleep hygiene practices that I learnt over the years. I lie awake for hours not even thinking. Sometimes my eyes burn I am so tired yet still I don’t fall asleep. I need to see my psychiatrist but therein lies another problem. Another frustration that as a person suffering from mental illness faces constantly. Even though I am on full medical aid which I pay a fortune for they will not cover the fees because according to their rules (and PMB) they only have to pay for 21 days in a psychiatric hospital OR 15 visits with your psychiatrist and nothing more. That’s it, regardless of if you are on a hospital plan or comprehensive cover. No amount of appeals and complaints will change this but that is another argument and possibly another post for another day. Bottom line is that I have already forked out a few grand to cover additional visits to my psychiatrist and have simply run out of money. In the end, I think to myself what will it really help anyway as there isn’t really any medication she can give me to help, I have already been on pretty much everything already. Sadly, I know many others who also struggle with insomnia and it is horrible.

 

Lastly is the apathy. My sponsor asked me yesterday if I had given up and I had to think carefully about the answer. When pulling apart my thoughts the answer is yes and no. I don’t feel hopeless, I haven’t given up but I do wonder what is the point. It seems easier to just not care and keep moving forward. I know from experience that these phases pass and better times come. I know in my heart that I have so much to live for, so much love and support around me but at the end of the day I am tired and the easiest way to keep going is to not think about it too much, to not care, to just be apathetic. There are good times and there are bad times, there are times when my mental illness gets the better of me and there are times when I can manage my life and live very contently. I just need to wait it out but waiting it out is hard when the times are not good and the longer the struggle continues the harder it becomes to wait it out and not give up. I am not suicidal, I do not seek death because I know that I enjoy life, I know that I have passions and interests to still follow but right now I am tired. I am exhausted. I am simply okay.

There are so many of us out there that feel this, that find conversations too much to handle at times and sit in silence instead. So many of us that face the paradox of wanting to give up but wanting to fight because we know it will pass. There are too many of us out there that hold on to the hurt, the melancholy, the exhaustion, the apathy because there is no magic wand to make it go away. Depression is not just feeling sad. Mania is not just having lots of energy. Anxiety is not just worrying. Pain is not just physical. Thoughts are not harmless. These things make living on a day to day basis exceptionally hard at times but there are warriors out there who press on, who keep putting one foot in front of the other, who do not give in to the easiness of giving up. Today I try to be one of those warriors and keep fighting for better days, I know they will come. So please, don’t be offended if I don’t respond to your messages or if I don’t make plans with you to go out and often don’t seem overjoyed to see you. It has nothing to do with you at all and everything to do with the fact that at the moment I am too tired, too apathetic and too busy focussing on simply getting through the day. If you don’t know me and are reading this but know someone who might be feeling the way I do I encourage you to take the same message to heart. They are not trying to avoid you they simply can’t at the moment. If you are feeling like I do, let people know you are ‘OK’ and that you need the space to simply live until things get better.

*Disclaimer* My words above do not encourage or give approval for anyone to not have a medical support team around them or not take medication. I continuously engage with my counsellor, GP and psychiatrist while we try to work through this together and I remain on all recommended medication.

When depression isn’t depression

“Today I remembered you, the man you used to be. Today I remembered you, the man that I once knew.
I lay awake for nights on end, the sadness overwhelming. I didn’t want to move at all, my heart completely broken.
In a box at the back of my mind, I packed the pain away. In a box far away, I held the feelings at bay.
With every second, minute, hour, life seemed to move on. For one day, one week, one month, it never seemed to end.
You lived your life until the very end, you gave up too soon. You were my family, you were my friend.
I lost you to natural causes, I lost you to yourself. I didn’t find it fair when God took you both.
It absolutely terrifies me, causes me to panic. The grief I feel inside of me is no longer silent.
Today I allowed myself to feel the pain of loss. Today I allowed myself to acknowledge I feel lost.”

For the last few days, I lay on my couch staring into nothing. Series playing in the background until the early hours of the morning. Awake, yet exhausted, sad but numb. I didn’t understand, I thought I was sinking into depression again. I didn’t want to see anyone, go anywhere or do anything. I just wanted to lay there and ignore the world. The feelings so overwhelming I found myself retreating into myself, drawn into the nothingness. My moods have been so all over the place from hypomania to depression and everything in between that it made perfect sense I was just moving towards depression again. I accepted it, lived in it for a while and then went to see my counselor. All the signs were there, the low mood, eating junk, feeling tired all the time, not being able to sleep, isolating myself, I didn’t know it could be anything else. Except, my counselor disagreed and talked to me about grief. She explained her thoughts and told me that she is not surprised I am finally feeling this way.

This year I have handed over 2 clients that I worked with for over 2 years, had a severe Bipolar episode and landed up in a psychiatric hospital,, lost my grandfather to a heart attack, gotten a new flatmate, suffered massive mood instability, had a friend commit suicide and been to 3 funerals all by July. It’s been a rough year at best. Through all of this, the major thing I have concentrated on is getting my moods stable again. I felt sad at times, cried here and there but really I have just been trying to get through each day without killing myself or someone else. I haven’t had time to grieve anything, I don’t even know how to grieve. The last time I lost someone important to me I was still in active addiction and didn’t know how to feel. That was thirteen years ago and I have never learnt how to since. I have lost jobs and friendships, moved house and experienced the death of acquaintances but I haven’t really needed to grieve, I’ve just kept moving forward. So when all these feelings came on I had no idea it was simply grief and sadness, not depression.

Depression I can deal with, it feels crap but there are things that I can do. See my doctor, change my medication, talk it through, go to a meeting, things I can do. Grief through is different, there is nothing that I know how to do to make it better. To take away the feelings that are overwhelming me. I have spent years learning about my Bipolar, the mania, and the depression. Learning what to do next, learning the symptoms, learning how to push through. I have made hundreds of lists telling me what to do when I can’t think in those moments. I have surrounded myself with a professional team and a great support system. Depression I can deal with. Grief is new to me, I don’t know what to do. I have sat on my couch for days, listless and lethargic. Watching series and silently crying because the tears won’t come on their own and I need to get them out. Eating all the time to try and fill the hole that is somewhere inside of me. I am sad, very very sad and I don’t know what to do with it.

When I told my friend the other day that it felt like it would never end, she responded with this; “Honestly, it does not, but the rest of life kind of surrounds it and gives it a hug so that it only hurts sometimes.” This brought a little bit of warmth to my heart, it sounded real, something worth hoping for. It’s a strange thing grief, I don’t want to feel this way but a little part of me feels that if I stop feeling this way now then I didn’t love these people enough. I miss my grandfather and I miss my friend. Sometimes I miss the clients I handed over. I miss my old housemate even though I love my new one. And I miss just being okay for a little while, I am tired of losing things this year, tired of struggling. So I have realised that I have plenty of reason to be grieving, I am allowed to finally let everything from this year catch up and it’s okay to be sad for a little while. It’s hard, it’s overwhelming and it’s difficult but it’s okay. Grief is part of life, losing things and saying goodbye are part of life. This is new for me but it’s a lesson we all need to learn and I think I am ready to start learning it.

A look into the past … Part 2

Please read the intro of part 1 to see the history here.

This piece of writing describes 1 of the many battles I have had in my head while struggling to overcome mental illness, addiction and self harm.

I post it with the hope that it will help people to understand what their loved ones might be going though or if you are the one struggling to remind you that you are not alone.

WARNING: Slightly graphic and may be triggering.

Vivid Images, written 29 June 2016

Spent 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.

A look into the past … part 1

Things have been really good for me for awhile now. My moods have stabilized and the emotions are no longer so raw. I don’t fear life anymore and live mindfully from one day to the next not letting obsessions take over.

For the first time in my life I am living, I am real and I feel like I have value but it wasn’t always like that. Recently I found some of my ramblings from 2 years ago that reminded me I have so much to be grateful for.

Here is the first one. I post in hope that someone else can connect with what was going through my head and not feel so alone. In hope that those reading will find hope as well, that if I can make it out on the other side then so can you.

Written June 2016 – not good enough

I close my eyes and I see swirls of grey, black and white spinning around in my vision. A visual representation of what is going on in my mind. The black represents the depression that seems to be sinking in. Bringing with it thoughts of failure and unworthiness. A voice screaming in my head “YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH”. Against all rationality and knowledge that this is untrue, I still lean towards believing it. The grey for the confusion that seems to be swirling around my mind. Thoughts flying around interrupting each other and not letting anything make sense. Lastly white as the recovery I have built up in my life. The positive and sane reactions I need to survive.

It’s a mess though all blotted together like paint on paint in oil. I’ve been in denial for a while, avoidance more appropriate. “I’ve handed it over so it must be fine” and I realize the absolutes are back. The black and white thinking that flitters in and out of my life. All or nothing, it is or it isn’t. Who said that just because I’ve handed it over that it will be alright? But for me right now that’s how I’m thinking. I’m either fine or I’m not. Why can’t I be both? Don’t I fail and succeed like everyone else? In truth I am no different to any other person in the world yet I feel so alone in my head.

I sit here out in the open with a coffee to gather and sort out my thoughts. Heavy metal music playing in my ears because it calms me and right now I need to be calmed. My emotions are overwhelming me and I need to center myself. Realizing that the last month has affected me more than I have acknowledged or allowed. So honestly, I feel like a failure. Like I’m never going to get my shit together. Reality tells a different story though I struggle to see the truth. I am struggling to find any identity within myself that doesn’t have a title attached and I have no titles attached to me now. I move from day to day in a haze pretending that I’m okay when the truth is I’m not. But if I’m not then what am I? I try to tell myself that it’s okay to not be fine, to not be on top of the world but all my heads reminds me is that I have failed at yet another thing. Another disappointment on top of the many disappointments before. If I am dishonest I don’t have to acknowledge how deeply this hurts me. How sad and empty I feel inside.

“I will be okay” I tell myself. “I’ve worked hard to be okay” “please don’t take this away from me now” I plead with God. For naught though because God doesn’t work to this way. Is it okay to feel let down? To feel angry? I trust in God and believe in him, that he cares for and loves me but why does he let the negativity and bad thoughts return time after time? Why does he let the depression take over? What more must I do? I don’t know anymore so I plod on the best I can. Bit of a pity party right there though and I don’t like that so I lie to myself and stay positive. No matter how hard I try though I can’t deny that right now I am not fine, I am broken once again. If I was ever fixed in the first place.

I know I’ll leave my solitary spot here and go home to my amazing house mates, who when I share with them will tell me how beautiful I am and what an amazing person I am. How much they love me and how much I mean to them. And I know in my heart it’s true, that’s how they feel but I don’t feel the same. I’m sad, hurt, disappointed and through everything I still haven’t learnt not to listen to the voices in my head. I’ll smile though and tell them I love them too but go to bed empty inside because I feel so lost. How do I find myself? How did I lose myself to begin with? What am I? Who am I? Where do I look to? What do others see that I can’t and how do I learn to believe them instead of the voices from the past?



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. 

Fine but not fine?

Spent 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.