I am scared of what lies ahead.
Let me preface this by saying that I am mostly just rambling and making a sad blog post.
I had been seeing someone for 2+ months. We weren’t exclusive and really, it was more friends with benefits. I was a fling. Deep down, I knew that, but I wanted so badly to believe that I could be more.
Well! That’s not how things turned out to be lol. I had gotten close to this guy and had grown attached, clearly. I talked to them nearly every day and we talked about our lives. We got to know each other. They would tell me that they liked me. Blah blah blah. I liked the attention. I like being validated because often times, I can’t do it for myself. Don’t tell me that I need to learn how because it’s hard and it’s not like I’m not trying.
So anyways. I stayed the night with this guy one day and I THOUGHT that it went well. Or actually, maybe it did go well. Idk. I can’t even tell anymore.
A couple days later, they were telling me of how they had extreme social issues growing up and how it has taken them a long time to try to get better. I got comfortable, I guess, and I trusted them and so I told them that I struggle with bipolar ii disorder. I began with telling them that I was nervous to tell them and how this wasn’t like how it’s portrayed in media.
They said it was ok. And that they understood, as they also struggle/struggled with mental illness. So I thought we were all good. And then I noticed that they slowly started distancing themselves. And god damn, did that hurt. I know we were never a thing. Not officially. But I had really grown close to them. It really hurts knowing that my mental illness has yet again, pushed someone away. It hurts knowing that it maybe wasn’t even my fault. I don’t think I was being crazy or anything. I really just think that knowing this scared them away.
I’m really sad. My last relationship before this ended because I was doing really badly because of my mental illness. This partner would say that this “wasn’t an excuse.” The relationship I had with Molly grew volatile both because of her addiction and also because of how codependent I was. I was spiraling out of control. Before Molly, I dated someone that broke up with me because I would cancel our plans too often because I felt sick. I really did feel sick. It was often because of how fucking depressed I was. They said that it didn’t make sense that I was sick so often and that it was medically impossible.
I dunno, man. I feel so fucking hopeless and worthless. I read an article a while back that said that those with bipolar disorder often don’t get better but rather, their symptoms get worse and happen more frequently over time. Can you believe that? I’m already doing horribly and I’m destined to get worse.
I feel terrible. I feel so, so bad knowing that this was because of my bipolar. And if only I hadn’t disclosed that. But I trusted them. Am I really to blame? I feel so fucking stupid though.
I have the tendency to cut ties with someone if I feel like I am going to get hurt. And that’s exactly what I did. It’s a bad habit. But I protect myself that way, to an extent. I wish so badly that they would try talking to me again like they did before. But they only send the occasional text and even then, I feel so upset that I don’t even reply. But I find myself checking their social media to see if they’re doing things. They are. As if I didn’t even matter. And I guess I didn’t.
Uuugghhhhhh. UGH!! I’m so annoyed, angry, sad, frustrated, etc. I wish I was normal. Or more normal than I am. This sucks.
I feel that it is only a matter of time before I do something to harm myself. Does anyone else with bipolar feel that way? I feel like I am a ticking time bomb. I currently have no suicidal thoughts, but the feeling of having every bad feeling accumulate is making me think ehhhh how long can I keep this up? How long before I reach my breaking point?
This is me. I am Carol.
It’s been difficult for me these days.
Here are some things that have been happening.
-I’m sick. I don’t mean mental health sick, or “fucked up” sick. But I feel terrible. I don’t know if I’m feeling sick as a result of my mental illness or if I’m legitimately like virus-type sick. I’ve been feeling tired all day. I’ve been feeling this way for the past three weeks. It’s ruining some of my interpersonal relationships. I don’t have the energy to do anything. I helped my mom run errands yesterday. In the intervals when we would be in the car getting to the next location, I would just fall asleep immediately. Something is wrong with me. My body is tired and sore.
– My parents are fighting again. Every time the fights are bad, my mom hints that she’s going to get a divorced because she’s “sick of dealing with this.” The fights are never bad, like, physically bad. And my parents don’t call each other names. But rather, they are passive-aggressive bad. They are bad in the way that they don’t talk to each other and ignore each other. I am really sad whenever this happens.
My culture has a very difficult relationship with seeking help for personal issues, whether it be marital problems or problems stemming from mental health. It isn’t that people from my culture are stupid, or anything. But we are ignorant, and this is because of the way it’s been for years. It is the attempt at trying to preserve our culture and keeping with traditional ways that keeps us ignorant. My mom is pretty progressive, but my dad isn’t. As a result, he refuses to go to a marriage counselor.
Right now, after noticing that this time it’s my dad who’s causing the fight, I am trying to come to terms that maybe this is for the best. I read some articles and realized that it is selfish of me to try to keep trying to keep my parents together, which is what I’ve always done. I’ve always tried to be the middle-man in an attempt to make things better, even if it stresses me out and is ruining my mental health at that time. I guess, I currently realize that if my parents are constantly angry with each other and it seems to be a never-ending cycle, they should do whatever they deem best.
I say this with using “I CURRENTLY think.” I say this as I know I will get extremely sad and go against what I’m saying later on.
-I think that I am going to end the relationship I am in. I started dating the person I am dating back in May. I had broken up with a previous significant other in February, and I had been with them for two years. I honestly think that I got in this relationship out of spite towards the other person. I wanted so badly for them to see how badly they hurt me, and because of that, I was trying to be happy with someone else. One month after I got in the new relationship, my previous partner died of an overdose. I feel like that hit me really hard and that’s when I realized, what the fuck am I doing? I’ve tried to make it work. But it isn’t just me. The person I’m dating has their own issues and sometimes, it’s things that i really can’t deal with. For example, I’ve been needing a lot of space lately. I’ve been trying to figure things out for myself. And initially, they said that they were typically the person that tries to not be serious and not be in monogamous relationships. But as soon as we started dating, that completely changed. They said they were in love with me. They got clingy and dependent. I cannot do that. I can’t even try. As I’ve mentioned before, I have been really tired. I have no energy. It’s beginning to feel like I have no energy to put towards this relationship, too.
I am lonely. I have been very lonely ever since my ex-partner died. I was angry towards them but deep down, I still loved them very much and hoped that they would get it together so that we could date again. But obviously, they never did. But it is incredibly selfish of me to take my loneliness and do things that are harming other people. By knowing that I do not love the other person and staying with them despite this, I am hurting them. I tell them that my low energy level is temporary. But I know I am stalling. I’m stalling from dealing with bigger issues. I am a shitty person and I know I need to stop this. It’s hard. It is easy to read this and say, “wow you’re being really fucking shitty, like, stop.” That’s what I would think, at least. I guess there’s just so much more going on. I thought at one point that I loved this person. But once my ex died, I realized that I didn’t.
-My psychiatrist prescribed me adderall. 5MG to start with. I feel like this is good. I had been getting adderall in unethical ways (lol???) because I knew something was wrong. Not recreationally. But I used it when I needed to study. It helped a lot. I took the test they give you when assessing if this is something you might have, and apparently, I scored high enough on a clinical level. So I feel like even though I was first getting the medication in unethical ways, I wasn’t doing it to harm myself. I knew the implications and I knew that it was bad. But I did it because I thought it would be better for me and it would help me. That sounds like what a drug addict would say tbh but like, it did help me. And it turns out, I do have what I was expecting. I’ve only taken the 5mg pill once, as I’m currently on break from courses and don’t really have something I need to focus on. I don’t want to become dependent on these, either. But the time that I did take it, I felt like it worked. Not for long, but it did for a bit. Was it psychological? Maybe. But it still worked.
-I go back to school in two weeks. I am excited only because I want to be done. I am tired of being stuck in the limbo that is prerequisite courses. I should have been done two years ago. But I got really bad because of my mental health, and only recently got better because I learned how to reach out for help, if I needed it. I want so badly to get into the program because I feel ready to move forward. It isn’t just the rebellious teenager still living inside of me wanting to leave home. It’s feeling like, I am almost 21 (next month) and I should have gotten it together by now. I should have a career by now. I know that there is no time when someone “should” have their shit together. But this is never what I wanted for myself. Shit happens, I know. Life goes on, I know. But this is not what I envisioned my future to be.
Speaking of my future, sometimes I am really amazed and even proud of myself for even still being alive. Not in the way that a higher being has allowed me to live one more day. But in the sense that I have literally thought about suicide every single day since I’ve been 12 so like, it is really an anomaly lol. Sometimes the thoughts are fleeting. Fleeting in the way that something bad will happen and I’ll immediately think, “fuck this sucks, I want to kill myself.” Sometimes it is more serious, and I will have a blade to my wrists or neck, of have a handful of pills ready in my hand. I’ve attempted in the past, but that was years ago. I think that the last time I seriously attempted was when I was 16. That was a long time ago, wow, I’m just realizing this. I guess I’m just proud of myself to be able to push through. I guess it is surprising to me that I am still alive. I always said to myself that I thought I would never live to be in my 20’s, because of my mental illness. Because I think of suicide so often. Sometimes i still think, wow, I’ll never get to my 30’s and I’ll never have a career or a stable relationship because it’s bound to happen soon.
Baby steps, I guess.
So that’s that. There’s what has been happening the last month. Most of the time, I come on here to talk about bad things happening in my life. I feel like that’s how it is for a lot of people that are mentally ill, or even people that are not mentally ill. We want to reach out to people and talk about ourselves when things are rough. We want advice and we want to be comforted. If things are going well, we don’t need to be comforted in the same sense. We are ok, we are sane, if only momentarily. So I guess that’s why a lot of my posts are mostly negative.
I have bipolar disorder and am currently in a depressed stage. Depression for me means not wanting to do anything all day. I just want to sleep and stay in bed –and I will. I will not take care of myself in even the most basic ways such as; eating, showering, daily chores, etc. Getting up and out of bed is the biggest struggle. And that’s just the physical things.. that’s not including all the shit going on in my mind.
I am also in a relationship. The person I am dating is nice, and funny. They’re really kind towards me. Though, we haven’t really been dating for too long. We’ve been dating since the end of May.
We are currently struggling in our relationship BECAUSE I am in a depressed stage. It has gotten to the point where they get upset with me and ask me if I really want to be in a relationship with them.
I’m upset because the relationship was good before this. We were both supportive of each other and whatnot. But now that things have shifted, our relationship has also shifted. I can understand that it could be alarming to be in a relationship with someone who is currently in a depressed stage. I could understand how being in a relationship with someone with bipolar disorder could be something to be uneasy about. After all, one gets into a monogamous relationship hoping for some stability, right?
But they knew about my disorder since the very beginning. I never lied and I never hid anything. It also isn’t like I’m not actively seeking help. I go to my therapist, I go to my psychiatrist, I take my medication regularly. It has just been really, really hard for me lately.
The issue is this: the first two weeks of August, I was in complete crunch mode trying to get everything done for my courses. So of course, I would spend hours upon hours a day trying to study and get things done. I would tell the person that I was dating that I couldn’t talk as often during that time because I NEEDED to get good grades. After the term was done and I found out I had gotten a B in one of the courses, I fell into a deep depression. A depression I am still in. And they’ve been upset and frustrated with me because I am not as attentive as I was before and I am not as energetic as I was before. They ask me to send them packages or letters and I did once, but not again. And they feel that I am neglecting them. And I am, but I’m also neglecting myself so..?
I guess I just feel like I’ve been put in a very unfair position. They are a huge advocate towards ending the stigma towards mental health and this just feel hypocritical. They’re someone that has even been in intake for what they describe as “a psychotic episode” they had. I’m just thinking, how can they not understand me at all? It feels like they don’t. I think that it is unfair and selfish to get upset with someone for not putting enough energy into something when they can barely put enough energy into themselves, though they are trying their very best. It just feels like they have absolutely no patience and it is getting to be a bit much for me. I am asking myself, can I handle a relationship right now? And I feel like I could. I was. But I fell into this depression so suddenly and because it’s a phase, I know it will be over. I just don’t know when.
A couple years back, someone broke up with me because I was also in a depressed phase. I didn’t want to go out often and it was hard for me to get excited about things. But they didn’t know anything about mental illness and even said that ti was impossible for me to feel so sick all the time. They said I was making it up. They said they couldn’t deal with it. But they didn’t know anything about mental illness, though I tried to explain it several times.
They literally broke up with me for my mental illness. And I can blame that on their ignorance. But with this person? God, I don’t even know. This feels so similar. It doesn’t feel good.
Is this just me? Is my fucked up, bipolar mind skewing things into how I want to see them? I don’t feel like they should “put up” with me. I guess I just need patience and understanding and I am not seeing that.
My mental illness causes me to have outbursts. It is caused by criticism.
No one is required to deal with me. No one has to take my shit. And I guess, even though I know that I am sometimes the one in the wrong, it can get very lonely. Having bipolar disorder can get very lonesome.
I got upset with my mom because she criticized me on something, or that’s how I took it. I can never tell if I’m the one being over sensitive or not. I can never tell if my feelings are valid.
Anyway, when I said that I wasn’t mad but I was annoyed, she said she was “fucking sick of it.”
She yelled to me “I am fucking sick of you”
And though I know that it was just something that she said in the moment –something that slipped out –it still hurt very much.
I feel so alone and I know my mom didn’t mean it. She’s not sick of me. She’s sick of my mental illness.
But that’s part of me and I can’t help it.
Lets see, lets see, what could I say about my most recent failed relationship. There’s just so much to say. It’s hard to even find the words.
First off, I know I play the victim a lot but I really feel like I’m the only one that’s hurting. I’m not sure if that’s because they really don’t care that we broke up or because they’re busy getting high. Probably both. Even so, I don’t think I’m hurting as bad as I thought that I would. Sure, I get really sad sometimes. But that’s normal. I feel ok for the most part. Maybe that’s how it is for them too. I think we were both just tired of dealing with each other’s shit.
I’m a little (a lot) disappointed that this last relationship didn’t work out. I really thought and was hoping that it would. In the beginning, it all felt really dreamy and surreal, which you could contribute to the infatuation that we were both experiencing.
We spent a lot of time together, and it felt like we missed each other a lot, even we had only been apart for an hour. It felt like we were two pieces of the same puzzle. We both liked the same movies, music, food, etc. We connected in random ways, that you wouldn’t have imagined connecting about. We had a lot of good experiences, and first-time experiences together. It felt like they were my best friend. They understood me really well. They understood when I would react to something badly and would quickly apologize after. They didn’t chastise me for that. I liked that. I liked that it felt like even if I I was the craziest person in the world, they could see the good in me.
But even though everything felt so dreamy, I think that things really took a turn for the worst when my ex-partner started relapsing and then left for rehab for 7 months. It was 7 months of not seeing each other and barely being able to talk to each other. It was 7 months of hearing dates of when they would come home, and then having those dates being pushed back, over and over again, because of them constantly relapsing. I think we care for each other a lot. We were together for 1 year and 5 months. Apart for 7. Life moves on, even if you’re not in each other’s life. I think that’s when we started falling out of love. I think that there is a clear, definitive point in time where you could really look and see, well, they’re not as in love as they used to be.
It is hard to think that at some point, everything was good. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. I think if they hadn’t started abusing drugs the way they are now, we could possibly still be together. There wouldn’t have been as much lying, deceitfulness, or disappointment. That’s what I tell myself, at least.
Today, we are no longer together. We are not even friends. I go back and forth between deleting them and their friends from all of my social media accounts. But I then find myself feeling frantic, wanting to know what they’re doing, and if they’re doing better without me. I find myself wanting to change my number, and feeling the imaginative joy I could feel when they receive an automatic reply that my phone number is no longer in service. I feel very spiteful, but I also feel very hurt.
I feel very apathetic and indifferent towards the relationship we were having. The past few months are indifferent to me. They weren’t good. Most of the time, they were bad.
But the memories, oh the memories. I am in love with the memories, and the memories and feelings of what could have been. It feels disheartening to think that I thought I had a soulmate. We were so alike and it just really feels like a punch to the chest.
Presently, our relationship was stagnant. Nothing was happening and in fact, it felt like the love we had towards each other diminished by the second. They didn’t care about themselves a lot, and I couldn’t handle it. I tried really hard to have things get better. But nothing happened. They just didn’t care. Or they did care, but didn’t do a good job at all of showing it. The last time we hung out was three days ago, on Valentine’s Day. I had been contemplating leaving them. We weren’t together. But we certainly acted like it. I think the thing that was the final straw for me was that, that same day, they groaned when I wanted them to walk me out to their door. How much is that, a couple feet? I left angrily, but forgave them soon after. The next day, they walked at least a mile to the store to buy inhalants to get high with. I always heard that the addict will always love the drug more than they love any of their partners or family members. I tried so hard not to believe it. In that moment, it became very clear that yes, at this point, I am not the thing that they love most.
I am still mourning our failed relationship. We were together for quite a long time, but apart for nearly as long. I find myself feeling stupid sometimes for how hard I tried to save our relationship. Or how badly I wanted them to save themselves.
This has been something that will be really hard to get over. It will take me a long time before I could even think about being with someone else. Even now, here I am, pouring my heart out. I know they will read this, and perhaps they’ll feel just as indifferent as I do. But still heartbroken over what could have been. We could have been so much more.
Sometimes, with my bipolar disorder, it is hard to control my feelings. Sometimes I will feel very agitated and irritated and it is hard to not project that upon others, even if they have no reason as to why I am feeling what I am feeling.