Fanatic’s Moment

leuchtturm-denmarkThe darkness consumed me so fast. The weight of my body and mind is too much. I have slept for 2 days except for getting out of the house yesterday for coffee and a meeting. Thank god for that Thursday ritual w my friend. I was drowning in my own thoughts at home: failure, worthless, no good to others. I shared at the depression in sobriety mtng reluctantly. I opened by saying I am not a beacon of hope today. Somehow I felt pressure that my share was to have some sort of message of hope woven in, that’s what I was taught. This is a different kind of meeting in that there is no judgement in where you are high or low. I feel safe with our foursome of recovering alcoholics who suffer w this dis-ease. One faithful attendee was celebrating 32 years of sobriety yesterday and was battling some of the same thoughts as me. Although I only have 1 year of sobriety I am welcome at the table.

ladder-through-a-window-ajaytaoIt was a good exercise for me to share as I tend to keep things bottled up. I share the pain after the fact and preferably in an email. So there I was pouring my pain on the table. I shed a few tears. I told my truth. In the moment.
My depression has returned and is dragging me in its wake. Since about Saturday my mood has been in a steady state of decline. Up until yesterday I was hiding it pretty well. Kinda sorta fighting it off. If that equates to getting out of bed and putting one foot in front of the other, I was fighting. Now, I have no desire, no care to fight. Questioning taking my medication as I end up feeling this way no matter if I take it or don’t. I hate bipolar disorder.
The roller coaster is so very hard. I mean it’s all hard. Steady state of depression sucks. But for me, the tease of feeling better. The tease of feeling just about 100% functional is brutal. One week ago today I was laughing, planning for a weekend getaway at a friends house to include a hike and some music. I was texting offering to bring food for dinner saying how much I looked forward to it.
Saturday morning I awoke in a blanket of anxiety. I could not make decisions on what I needed to pack. I could not think. I was wrestling w my mind. Could I make this simple trip and be okay? What the hell is wrong w me. This is my friend we are visiting not some stranger.  I overpacked.

churchOn the hike I forged ahead. I needed to move faster. I needed to move quicker than the demon. I needed to outpace my mind. Most of all I felt like I had nothing to contribute.  I felt stupid. I felt unworthy of company. I wanted to disappear. I did not feel this way the previous day. Nothing happened to me. No triggering event to change my mood so drastically.
We went to listen to music. I could not stay present. I was lost in my mind. I was chasing thoughts and then in turn they were chasing me. Standing in a crowded room. Others were singing the song, others were dancing. I was frozen wondering if I was ever going to enjoy things again. Was I ever going to feel my feet planted and be alive in each moment as they come and go. Will I forever be held prisoner by my thoughts? Will I forever be a prisoner of bipolar disorder?
The next day I was filled w agitation. I didn’t want to be at my friends house anymore. I wanted to get the hell out of there and get back to my house. Where I was safe. Where i could shut the world out once again. My husband and I drove home in silence. What could I possibly have to say. I felt like a worthless human being. No good to others. Especially to him.

courtyardThis is what pains me the most. The idea of being a burden to others. As I lay in bed yesterday virtually unable to move, unable to will myself up to get ready for work, my husband became upset. I tried to tell him I felt depressed and I couldn’t face going to work. He stood in the door way and yelled at me to take control. He asked me at what point do I make the decision to move, to get up and force myself to get ready. I broke into sobs. Was he right? Was I just being a victim of depression. Was I not trying hard enough? I know my descent into depression is very difficult for him. This past year has been devastating for him too watching his wife being taken over by psychosis or carry a weighted backpack around w a suicide plan. Visiting mental hospitals 3 separate times in a span of 7 months.  His reaction was out of fear. But it still hurt.

church-ilulissat-greenlandIt hurts. It is painful to have this disease. To go from high to low in the span of a day. To think, believe, a period of remission is surely coming after this 7 months of hell. I’m exercising, taking my meds, going to individual and group therapy, trying to stay connected. Bipolar doesn’t care if I become president. Depression doesn’t care that I “need” a reprieve. I am left w knowing this will continue to haunt me throughout my life. My strength will grow and it will falter. My mood will spike and it will plummet.
Right now I need strength. My desire to fight and keep fighting is very low. Especially in this moment.

123 RV, SA!

20131101-062926.jpg20131101-063008.jpg

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Fanatic’s Moment

  1. I can relate. My heart bleeds for you. Truly. You are fighting the good fight. I feel very confident that it is paying off for you, even if you can’t see it, even if you’re in agony. Deep sadness and depression and faltering self worth are not the only indicators of progress. I think that they are signs, but there is so much more that can be embraced and celebrated when we are healing and growing. Every little thing that we’re capable of doing, every little new step in expression and relationship and self-care is worthy of celebration. I know that personally I can’t afford to wait for anyone else to “get” me or fully accept me. It’s great when it happens and those people are my special gems, but I am convicted that I need to forge on in spite of what others think is the proper path or speed for me… Please know that practically every time I read a new post of yours, I celebrate your heart and courage and strength. You strengthen me in your profound search for strength. You will get there. Keep rowing, but rest when you need to and go at your very own pace.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s