Tag Archives: confused

Looking Back On My New Year’s Eve, Stupid Decisions & Stability.

The art of self-sabotage.

Just an indulgent repeat of my New Year’s Eve night, these thoughts are getting tedious, drinking is definitely not my friend. Trying to make these experiences ‘life lessons’. 

I had a few drinks; my head was swimming; swimming deep, trapped in the thoughts of the past. My present life is going extremely well, but it always seems that my past plays on my mind, slowly taking away from the joys of the present. I wonder if you can start to forget these thoughts, put them behind you, hoping for a fresh start. I know I’m stable, yet there are always these particular thoughts, amplified by a glass or two of wine. The alcohol brings the past back into clarity, who I use to be and what I use to do to myself. Binge drinker, depressed, self –harm, binge eating to combat depression, attachment issues, suicidal tendencies, un-empathetic, fitness junkie, food restriction and control freak. I think about all of this, I have time off from work and no university at the moment, I feel completely useless and unproductive, spending my days doing nothing. I know I’m stable, but this uselessness isn’t helping me. In the early hours of New Year’s day, as I slowly walked home through the worst parts of town, I knew I was out to hurt myself, I knew full well that it was dangerous to walk here. I stopped on the rickety bridge that was above the overpass, I didn’t move from that spot, wondering what my body would look like if it had fallen and hit the rocks below.

Drinking that night and being on medication wasn’t in my best interest, it was self-destructive. I type these thoughts so that I can put them behind me, hoping they won’t come to haunt me later. I pushed myself away from the bridge, the indulgent distraction led me into a drunken group of men that had been kicked out of a pub, I heard their catcalls, but I wasn’t bothered, I don’t think I cared. Their jeers continued for a while, I kept walking, not enticing them. In the morning the only thought I had about the night was the fact that my heels had allowed me to walk the 6km home without any bother. I didn’t regret the night, the adrenalin I got from my potentially dark walk home served to reinforce the negativity that I had been searching for. My friends said goodbye to me that night, asking where my cab was, telling them it was coming and that they should go back inside, I started my walk, thinking that I needed to clear my head, but there wasn’t anything to clear, just an angry voice inside that was egging me on just to see what would happen, there wasn’t any weighing up of risks, I just walked.

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Rocking The Pit Of Despair. How Deep Is The Rabbit Hole?

Welcome to the Pit. It’s nice to see you again. #HarryHarlow

I followed the white rabbit of hypomania so innocently into the rabbit hole. The rabbit, he had been so inviting, fascinating and alluring. Is the rabbit’s hole the true nature of reality? The hole is infinitesimally deep and complex, filled with my existential thoughts. Continue reading Rocking The Pit Of Despair. How Deep Is The Rabbit Hole?

Depression Is The New ‘Black’.

Waking up this morning I’m still so drained from the night, the vivid dreams and disorientation of waking from sleep walking. I routinely get on the scales each morning, the scales determining how I will feel about the day. Today they aren’t bad or good; I’m lying in bed knowing that I should take myself to the gym, not understanding why it has become so important for me to be skinnier. I use to become skinny as an act of revenge (obviously a healthy endeavour), not ever for myself really, but at the moment it’s become a compulsion, but why do I need to be skinny, I ask that to myself, yet each day the same routine and disappointment. I eat enough healthy meals during the day and exercise, yet nothing changes.

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Sometimes I like my scars; they show the pain that I’m going through internally. They show the struggles that my mind puts my body through. There are more scars then I remember, thin straight lines, one after the other. I touch them and I can remember the pain. The self-loathing and madness. Today they represent my pain at the moment; I’m becoming more and more discontent, a nasty edge to my demeanour. I’m withdrawing from my friends, preferring my own company. I decided that they were toxic and I needed to clean up my act, but I think it’s become worse. The discontent runs deep, what am I actually aiming for in life? I’m studying to get a job, a job that will take up nearly all my time, to live a life that seems pointless. Living in a stratified society inhibits the achievement of your dreams. In a very abstract view of life as humans our goal is to live and procreate, that’s the bottom-line, yet I can’t see myself wanting that, I can’t see a life where I will be happy. I have no desire to pass on my genes to another generation.

I know that I’m sick and twisted, but I can’t help but enjoy it. It’s a sick sad world. I can feel my hipbones start to show that little bit more, but it’s still not enough. I’m getting high distinctions for nearly all my assignments in university, but it’s still not enough. I’m eating healthy and exercising regularly, but it’s not enough. The discontentment is too deep, too overwhelming. I will not walk along the cliffs at the beach lest I get the same intrusive thoughts from before, the irresistible need to fall. I was so high for so many weeks, guess it was time for that mood to crumble and be replaced by my mental pit of despair. I drink less, party less hard, sit in the sun and exercise, yet why have I suddenly become so unhappy?

HI, my name is Alice** and I’m my own worst enemy and critic, currently enjoying the trappings of my former life. I took my meds today, I take them every day.

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  • I didn’t immediately post this, I wanted to wait and see if this wasn’t just a bad week, that I could ‘make’ myself better again, it didn’t happen. Depression is the new black; I wonder how much of this acute unhappiness we bring on ourselves and the awareness that we are our own unintentional triggers. I always try and be a positive advocate for mental health, consciously aware of what mental state I have arrived at, but sometimes powerless to lessen its effects. I don’t want to be like this, I want to be in control of my mental state of mind. I’m just going to keep trying.

Is Mania A Defense Against Depression?

“Much madness is divinest sense-
To a discerning eye-
Much sense – the starkest madness”

– Emily Dickinson

Is mania a counter- defensive action against depression? Depression is simply symptoms that underlie a disorder, mania in many instances appearing as a series of transitory flights that create euphoria. Mental disorders are usually artfully denied, the denial acting as gauze; willful denial acting as an opiate. The people around me actively participate in the denial delusion, crediting external influences for my current mental state. Depression and paradoxically the psychotropic drugs (medication that can induce anxiety, nervousness, impaired judgment, mania, hypomania, hallucinations, feelings of depersonalization, psychosis and suicidal thoughts, while being used to treat the same symptoms) all cause the self (in my experience) to become a sub-form of itself.

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Others perceive mania and hypomania to reveal horrifying parts of themselves. People often find it difficult to reconcile with the behaviors that are being presented during these episodes, perceiving these behaviors to be part of their denied inner psyche. Their ‘sick’ self has no accountability and the later ‘improved self’ has apologizing and explaining to do. Ultimately both mania and depression represent defensive actions of the self to counterbalance and stabilize (to an extent) the unstable mind. Often the transformation of the self that is experienced by the person with the mental disorder is the most disturbing part about being ill. Patients often find that doctors don’t engage with the topic of ‘self’ in their target to stabilize their patient, but for me I have to believe that my idea of ‘self’ has to be there in its completeness to truly feel well.

Losing your ‘self’ is a grief issue and needs strategies in place to either remedy the situation or for the patient to come to terms with their ‘new self’. Strangely I don’t feel like the same person I was 6 months ago, but I also believe that’s about progressing through life, but when your ‘self’ is altered through depression/mania and medication it is perceived differently from growing into a new person. It becomes a forced transition through the experiences and environmental factors around the person. A man with bipolar disorder said “Because everyone there was grieving over the loss of another person. I was grieving for myself. For who I used to be before I got sick and who I am now.”

It is my honest perception that mania and depression are defenses against each other. Manic-depressive patterns surround the struggle against personal annihilation. Mania embodies a transitory liberation from a subjugated, annihilating tie to emotionally important others, whereas depression represents the reinstatement of that tie. The liberation versus reinstatement is a constant mental struggle and retaliation, more importantly does this illustrate the chemical imbalance trying to over-rectify its irregularities? These are just my over analytical subjective bipolar musings.

**My thoughts are a bit haphazard today and hazy, sorry if some stuff doesn’t make sense, eh Epilim is really making it difficult to not become a marshmallow.

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Epilim Killed The Sex-Drive.

My emotions have hit a mental wall. Am I meant to feel this way; the mental exhaustion is wearing thin. In the past few weeks I’ve become aware that the mood stabilizer I’m taking has killed my sex drive (libido). I don’t think I’m depressed, I just don’t seem to care either, not dispassionate, just lacking both my highs and lows, I’m not unmotivated but I’m not my usual perky self. The medication hasn’t affected my ability, but I’m not seeking anything either. I’ve looked at other reports of Epilim killing sex drives; guess it’s not only me.

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Feels like I’ve been stabilized emotionally, but I’ve been stabilized in a mild depressive state. Epilim allows me to be less anxious and I also believe it made me cycle out of hypomania. This feeling of mild depression makes me less functional, for the first time in weeks I actually had an afternoon nap. The first weeks of taking 500mg to start off with had a lot of nausea, currently at the end of week two of taking Epilim and at a 1000mg dose the nausea seems to have abated. I’m hoping that my functionality towards tasks will increase again; I don’t want to let myself get bogged down. I’m not sexually promiscuous, but I can be a bit demanding, having that part of me missing is extremely bizarre and foreign. Epilim is a good mood stabilizer but I would like the small depressive symptoms to abate.

Hypo & Bisexuality?

Wondering about bipolar and bisexuality: conflict within my sexuality concerns not being able to trust my own instincts.

“Guys love it when I tell them that I’m ‘bi’, l let them figure out the ‘polar’ part for themselves.” *** does depend on my mood though…

“Although I consider myself heterosexual, when I’m manic, anything goes. What does this say about sex and the brain? “

My extreme moods are when I’m usually more interested in women, my more ‘normal’ and stable moods usually opt for ‘straight’ me. Depression just leads to zero drive. Im attracted to both sexes, but its usually completely dependent on the intensity of my mood swings. How can a person trust their instincts and go into a relationship when its dependent on a simple switch of a mood, it becomes a very unclear state of mind.

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Easiest way to put it: during hypomania: its like BAM: you’re bisexual, must buy button-ups and male cologne, in the months that follow I won’t even have a single female orientated fantasy and be adamant that I’m straight. It gets expensive maintaining both a straight and gay wardrobe.

My psychologist has put it down to my early 20’s where sexual exploration is natural. After doing some reading it is becoming a lot clearer that many other people with BP2 also experience extreme shifts in their sexual orientation during periods of hypomania. I’m not saying that hypomania causes bisexuality, just that the sex drive is increased and the impulsivity  is heightened. I’m starting to wonder what the outcome will be when my mood stabilizers and I realize I am in a monogamous lesbian relationship. Should be interesting. Fuck.