Being Bi-Polar... in Mental Health

…is no fun.

I hurt myself repeatedly. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. I jerk myself around. I feel one thing one day and the opposite the next. I have random thoughts that cut like knives and I can’t turn them off or stop them from coming. Any weird random thing can trigger a thought that will instantly bring me to tears. And then I argue with myself in my head, try to reason with myself, and there’s never a winner of the arguments, you know?

Right now, I’m struggling with who I am, who I think I am, who I was, who I thought I was, and who I’m supposed to be. There are things I’ve always thought, things I believed deeply, on a fundamental level, and some of those things have been uprooted. I don’t know how to change my own mind sometimes.

So, yeah, maybe someone said something and it got to me more than I realized at the time. Maybe several people said things that got to me. Maybe it all got to me because I was already saying some of these things to myself, in my mind.

Maybe I don’t know who I am at all. Maybe I’m nothing like I thought I was or wanted to be. Maybe I’m just not meant to be what I want to be, or think I want to be. Maybe I’m too muddled, too cracked and scarred, too broken, too insecure… Maybe I’m just too bi-polar, too mentally ill, to carry on like a normal human. I mean, what the fuck is normal, anyway? Maybe I just don’t fit in the world because I don’t know how to fit or because people don’t understand me or don’t want to even bother trying to understand. Maybe I’m just not worth it to them.

Maybe I’m just rambling…

I’m currently experiencing what feels like a pretty significant depressive episode. That’s one thing I haven’t been able to figure out in regards to my own mental health: how can I feel so happy and so sad at the same time? Why can’t I just enjoy the wonderful people and things I do have in life instead of feeling depressed for what seems like no reason at all? Oh yeah, because bi-polar.

I look at myself in the mirror and see a stranger. Who is this girl and what is she doing with her life? Where is she going and how is she going to get there and will she succeed and what will she succeed at? Is she even capable of succeeding at anything?

When these episodes hit, it’s like a curtain falls and I can’t see anything good. Rationally, I know I’ve been successful at a hell of a lot of things, but once that curtain falls I can’t remember a single one of them. All I can see are my failures. All I can see is the sadness and the loneliness and the heartbreak. The paranoia sets in and I question and doubt everyone and everything. How can I feel so self-validating most of the time and suddenly completely invalid?

Why do I hate myself so much? What did I do to myself to deserve such hatred? Well, that would probably be a very, very long story, wouldn’t it?

I spend far too much time focusing on the idea that no one really cares about me. I know that’s ridiculous, I know there are people in my life who care about me. But I also know that I currently have only 2 people in my life that I actually consider to be friends. I have a lot of acquaintances and work “friends,” but only 2 people in the world (not counting family) who I feel actually care about me. No one reaches out to me, even when I invite them to. No one checks in on me.

I’m taking my older son to college on Thursday. I’m not handling that well. I don’t know how I’ll function without him here. He’s my rock, my best friend. He keeps me sane and rational and steady. He can pull me back from the brink of a complete meltdown with just a few words or sometimes even with just a look.

And then, in far too few years, my littlest will be leaving for college, too. I’m afraid that then I won’t have anyone to hold me together. I won’t have any reason to continue to strive to be a better person. I’m afraid I’ll end up a crazy old cat lady on that TV show, Hoarders. They’ll have to just demolish my house or something.

I’m afraid… I’m afraid I’ll really hurt myself then. My kids have always kept me alive, protected me from myself and my suicidal thoughts. I could never do that to them, they needed me because their dad is a deadbeat loser who wouldn’t be capable of caring for them like I have. But, once they’re all gone… well. They’ll be grown and won’t need me anymore. They’ll be off living their own adult lives and I’ll just be an occasional visit or phone call. And I’ll be all alone with no one who needs me and maybe then I’ll be able to just… stop being.

Don’t worry, folks. I’m not going to off myself. I’ve made it this far, no point in giving up now. I just mean that I can stop trying to be part of the world. Crazy cat lady cabin in the woods, all the local kids can think I’m a witch, whatever. I’m just so sick and tired of being in the world but always feeling separate from it, outside of it. There’s one place that I feel like I truly belong and not being able to be in that one place, with that one person, well…

It just feels like another day in the life of the girl who doesn’t really belong anywhere.