Oh hello, all.
Here's what I felt like yesterday:
Is it overly dramatic? A better question would be "did I give a shit?" The answer, of course, would be "no." I didn't care about anything yesterday except how miserable I was. Part of my bipolar is intrusive thoughts, which, in layman's terms, is like having a voice in your head telling you you are worthless, that no one has/does/will ever like you, much less love you. In fact, it would probably be best if you drove your car into oncoming traffic, because everyone would be way better off if you weren't around. A mercy killing, if you will.
And that's how I felt yesterday. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to take my meds and go to bed, instead of doing anything rash. There were a lot of tears, and panic, and agony, but I lived to see another day, and I didn't even have to go to the hospital.
If you're someone who has intrusive thoughts that are not rational, like I was having yesterday, the best way of dealing with them is to think about something so mundane and white-bread-rational that it CAN'T get twisted in your head. For example, I couldn't kill myself yesterday because no one can tolerate my cats except me. I'm the only one who knows how to take care of them properly. Also, it was nighttime, and I don't drive at night. Therefore I couldn't drive into traffic, because I don't drive at night. It's a rule, and rules aren't broken in my mind. See? Totally rational.
So I went to sleep and you know what? Tomorrow came. I was rattled as hell, and felt like I had run twenty marathons, but the intrusive thoughts were gone. I even went to my meds doctor and told him exactly what had happened the night before. So now I have another medication, and we'll see if that doesn't shut my brain up when it decides to be cruel to me. Cause I can say now, which I couldn't say yesterday, that I DON'T deserve to feel like that. And a day in which I think that I don't deserve constant punishment is a damn good day. So yeah, today was a pretty good day.
I know this stuff is scary, and unnerving, but it's a huge part of my life. I depend, I rely, I cling like a spider monkey to my sense of humor to get me through the ugly times, and knowing I can make other people laugh is better than all the meds in the world.
But there are bad days, and yesterday was a bad day. However, I can sit here and say that I didn't hurt myself, didn't hurt anyone else, didn't break all my plates or do anything rash. That's a good part about having paralyzing worry and non-existent self-esteem. I didn't want to do anything that would make people hate me. And I suspect that offing myself would make a lot of people hate me.
This is who I am. The laughing, goofy, fiercely loyal, creative, passionately loving woman whose brain betrays her. I go to my therapist, I take my meds, and most days I can fill this blog with stories about the cats and times my pants fall down. But yesterday was a bad day, and I wanted to share it, because it is as much a part of me as anything else.
That's all. Promise to bring the funny next time. And lest I forget, thank you a million times and again to my wonderful friends and family who helped me through yesterday. I am so blessed to have every single one of you.