November 18th, 2016

The loneliness that consumes me & my demons that brought me here.


          Today is one of those days. When I wake up, I feel like I am stuck in sleep paralysis. As if the rope attaching me to my life is slipping out of my hands and I cannot move to grab it. I am drowning and there is cement blocks tied to my ankles so I can’t reach the surface. All I do is sink. Although I know the simplest task will help get me out from under this dark cloud, I’m tethered to my bed. Everyone around me knows about my depression, bipolar and anxiety yet instead of recognizing I’m having a bad day they call me lazy with the excuse of “trying to motivate me.”

          I don’t get out of bed unless I am asked to do something or I have to use the bathroom. I can’t eat, I can’t drink, I can’t do much of anything besides the bare minimum. I’m in a fatigued stupor. All day I can only think of things that hurt. Anything anyone says hurts. I get angry. I want to give up but I know that’s not an option. I’m angry at my spouse, my sister, my best friend, my mother. I’m mad at everyone I’ve come to begging for help that has said “Sorry, I can’t help you.” in a kind tone, but with a smug look on their face. I’m mad at myself. I’m mad at myself for fucking up every chance of help I could receive by wanting my cake and eating it too. I know that if I feed into these feelings, I will never snap out of it.

          I feed my addiction, enabling myself by telling myself along with my spouse “It’ll help me.” He will do anything he can to help fight my condition. We call it “my medicine“. When it’s bad, I hate it all. I hate the lifestyle, I hate the reputation, I hate constantly living in paranoia. I hate that my arms look like Frankenstein’s. I hate what it has made me become. Even with all the hate, I love it. I love how it makes me feel, I love that it helps me think all my troubles are gone temporarily. I love that it’s always there for me when no one else has. I love it, even though I know it’s all lies. I’m in a love/hate relationship with a powder, that’s transformed my relationships with everyone else into love/hate.

          I pretend it’s all okay until I have a breakdown at 3AM, lying on the floor bawling my eyes out. It’s a silent cry for help. All my lies are silent cries for help but I’ve gotten so good at lying it seems nothing but natural. Every time I explain to someone that I’m bipolar and how crippling it makes me there’s one out of two outcomes; “You seem completely normal.” or “You’re an addict, I think that plays into things more.” I have been referred to several mental health facilities by my therapist who is an LCSW because he says I’m “textbook bipolar.” He can’t diagnose me on paper and believes medication would be beneficial to me and provides all the help he can. I’ve signed off several papers to have the therapists evaluating me talk to my therapist as I’ve been with him for quite some time and he is the one who believes I need to be diagnosed. Every appointment I’ve had to be evaluated is always my last. They don’t speak to said long-term therapist, they don’t ask me questions about my emotions, my physical health, family history, etc. They see I’m on the “flagged list” (indicating I am/recovering drug addict) and begin with that. Once they begin with it, they also finish with it as well. Me, my therapist, my primary doctor and my mother all believe my mental health is the underlying issue of my drug use. I am coming to these facilities with help for my mental health as everyone in my support team believe that is where my problem lies, but even professionals can be biased. I feel defeated. I feel embarrassed. I feel like it’s all my fault. I feel as if I am alone and help is no where to be found.

          The roots of my demons are just the beginning. They spread and take me further into the hole I have dug for myself. Once in a great while I gather up a piece for the ladder I am making to get myself out. It’s coming slowly, but surely. Feel free to comment any advice, anything similar you’ve been through, or anything at all. I love the help, and I love to help.

1 Comment
  1. conner78 5 years ago

    You have what they call in the biz “Dual Diagnosis”. Next time you see a new doc, open with that.

    I know how difficult it is to deal with. Keep talking to doctors, but above all else be honest with them. Half-truths won’t add up to proper solutions. They make you jump through a lot of hoops but find the right balance of help you need. If Zoloft or something helps, take it. The unsatisfactory but nonetheless true answer is: no pill will fix you by itself. I can only speak from my own experience, but I spent 15 years wasting time and money trying to find the ‘right medication’ when in fact none really worked. Depression sapped my energy, but exercise and (sigh, better but not yet) proper nutrition restored it.

    Simple questions before I ramble on – What are/were you using, how much clean time do you currently have?

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