Riding the Bipolarcoaster

Suge By Suge, 5th Feb 2014 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Diaries

I'm up, then down, then up, then down. Is there a happy medium for the bipolar folks out there, such as myself? Lately, I am beginning to think not.

Riding the Bipolarcoaster

I'm used to things falling apart. That's what happens. That's how life progresses. It shatters into a million pieces. There are the people who sweep it up and throw it away, and then there are the people who try to piece it all back together. I'm one of those fools, hovering over a million pieces of nothing, glue in hand, making a valiant effort to glue back what once was.

It would be much easier if I just swept it up and threw it all away.

In my defense, I can't help it. When I see my family's dynamic crumble, I want to be the support beam that keeps it standing but that's not realistic. My shoulders are too weak to hold it all. They try. But we aren't as strong as we used to be. My body is exhausted from taking care of everyone and their bullshit, so much so that I have neglected my own self.

Let me paint the picture, darling. I'm thirty years old. I'm always tired. But lately, I don't sleep no more than an hour or two at a time. Yeah not healthy, I know. In addition to being thirty and an insomniac, I'm also single. I'm a sexual abuse survivor. I live by myself with a bitchy cat named Ruby. My friends come and go but my brother will always be my best friend, and he will always be there. But lately, I can't stand anyone. I can't even stand myself.

Being single and unattached, I have a lot of free nights, which I spend with my family. I'm not sure why I do it, perhaps I'm a glutton for punishment. I'll have the best of intentions going over for dinner with mom and dad, and by the end of it, I'll be so angry I feel the need to punch something or someone.

By the time I get home I'm completely and utterly depressed. After I get my pajamas on, I'm contemplating suicide. After I've laid in bed for an hour trying to fall asleep, I stray away from being suicidal and go back to being angry. Then rageful. Then for whatever reason, contentment. And then back to rageful.

Seriously. What the fuck?

Don't worry, I'm in therapy for my bullshit. But there have always been shoulders to lean on and now there aren't any. I've alienated myself. With my family ripping themselves apart, I find it best to just stay away. As for my friends? I put more in to that than I get back and that's exhausting.

All in all, I'm ranting. Raving. Looking for solutions in commonplace words. Putting on a random song and hoping for inspiration. I wish I could leave. I'd be so happy to just leave it all behind and start over somewhere else, even though I like my job and I love being the mother my sister could never be for her kids, I still want to flee.

But that's why I don't. Because maybe I'm important. Maybe I'm needed here. Probably not but there's always a chance.

It makes me wish I had made better choices when I was growing up. Maybe I would have moved elsewhere, gone to school out of state, become something that isn't what I am today, which is a total disappointment who finds happiness in the most menial of things.

Tags

Angry, Bipolar, Bipolarcoaster, Confused, Depression, Family, Insane, Mania, Mental Health, Mood Swings, Moods, Sadness, Stress, Suicidal, Survivor

Meet the author

author avatar Suge
I'm Suge. I've been writing since I was a teen. I've written everything from poetry to novels to scripts that I threw away to labels to shampoo bottles. Well, maybe not those last two.

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Comments

author avatar Retired
5th Feb 2014 (#)

Mood disorders are a real challenge. I wish you the best.

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author avatar Lady Aiyanna
6th Feb 2014 (#)

Husband is a bipolar victim which unfortunately is hereditary and with a lifestyle change. Here are things you never know, they have episode of temper/anger, increased sexual appetite leading to promiscuity and other medical ailments. I know when his episodes begin and sadly, the pain of that is indescribable as the mother has no taken charge and destroyed him by making him resent his own wife and offspring because of my religious disparities.

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author avatar Phyl Campbell
6th Feb 2014 (#)

#1 You are not alone.
#2 Being single is better than being in a bad marriage. (I have a good marriage now, but when I was 30, it was ROUGH. Same partner, but we've both grown.)
#3 Families can be wonderful. Families can also suck the living shit out of your last ounce of happiness. I am still trying to learn not to let them. I fail miserably.
#4 You've gotta get out of the house. Whether to library, coffee shop, bar, old folks home, education center -- see if you can get out and do something to meet people. Sign up for 3-6 month volunteering stints if you aren't working 24/7. You may bounce around for a while trying to find what you like, but like minded people may become casual friends, which give you places to go that aren't your folks' house.
#5 Keep writing and sharing. My first novel and FB are responsible for what's left of my sanity, so sayeth my partner. I am glad you are brave enough to share both parts of you, manic and depressed, and I wish you the best. My advice is only my personal experience written out here to inconvenience electrons, so take or leave whatever as you see fit.
You mentioned loving your sister's kids. I have siblings that are more like kids. Not exactly the same, but close enough maybe. I thought when I moved out, got married, and moved away that I could never leave them. I worried, and also secretly hoped, that they would run away in the middle of the night and come to me. They never did -- even when I moved back to my hometown. So if an opportunity beckons you to leave, my last piece of advice is for you to take it -- you and I both survived our childhoods and those kids will, too. And maybe even be better, stronger, or more resilient because of it.
In answer to your question, I don't think there's a happy medium outside of chemical re-balancing, but there's ways to make the manic loveable and infectious to the point where the depressed bits are more easily accepted by others. No one can be "that happy" all the time. Though you should be true to yourself, "fake it till you make it" is a good way to present one's self in public. Or so I keep telling myself. I do NOT have it all figured out. But today I am OK -- and you can be, too. I'm glad you're here. My best to you.

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