google analytics

Saturday, October 1, 2016

To Close To the Sun.

For the last week and a half I have felt off. I thought it was because of the tooth infection I had. Now a couple days later, the swelling has gone, and the pain is no longer an issue. And yet I still feel off. Not quite here. Just can’t seem to motivate to do anything. All I want to do is lie in my bed, curled around my hugger pillow and sleep.
Today it finally occurred to me that I had forgotten that being Bipolar brought mood swings. Sometimes, several within moments of each other. It also sinks you into deep depressions and then reverses into  moments of exhilaration. Those moments you feel if you fly high enough you might actually touch the sun.
I had been riding the cycle. Going through the ups and downs of the rotating moods for so long, I didn’t realize I wasn’t rotating to happy. My record had a scratch, and I was repeating the same mood. Only with each day the scratch went deeper, and as it did, my mood went darker. Laughter was waving goodbye, as fear and anger tried to find a comfortable seat.
I think what woke me up to this depression,was having a PTSD moment. I just had a quick flash of memory that sent me hurtling back to a tender age. My feelings of panic, hopelessness, and fear once more sending me into a grand panic attack. I still find it amazing how something that happened so long ago,still has such power over me. You think you have beaten it, and in one quick flash you realize you were wrong.
This moment happened a couple days ago, and even while I write this, I feel my heartbeat quicken in remembrance. I think that when my depressions are in full swing, that is when I am most vulnerable to the past and all the ghost residing there. It is why I work so hard to avoid them, and how when they hit, I want to deny them. It’s bad enough fighting that feeling of being sucked into a muddy bog. The ooze slowly working it’s way up your body, the gooey, clinging feeling of it as it weighs you down. You fight to keep yourself held up so that it can’t wrap around your ribcage, because once there it won’t let you draw a deep breath to scream.
That is how I usually know my depression is lifting. The ooze slides back down my body and then one day, I am able to take a step without feeling as if my feet are weighed down with sandbags. I can take a full breath. I can see the sun peeking from behind the clouds. Then comes the worry that I will swing in the completely opposite direction, and go through what they call a manic phase. Sometimes I think these scare me more than the depression. During these times, my line from above comes so close to the truth. I try and fly to close to the sun.
And as Icarus, I also pay no heed to the wax melting and my feathers falling away. Just as I outstretch my arm to touch the burning flames, my wings fall away from my body, and I go into free-fall. During this time anything can happen. I have no fear. I am just fascinated at the blisters forming on my burnt fingertips. Never grasping that the ground is not going to make for a happy landing.
When I am in manic mode, I make rash decisions. I take chances in ways that I usually know better than to do. I make choices that later will come back to either haunt me, or bite me in the ass. Ask anyone who lives with this disease, and they will tell you each day feels like you are the tightrope walker. One slip either way can cause serious problems. Some like me find the medication helps, but for others it doesn’t. Each person is different and so is their journey. I found therapy also helped. You can say “well I talk to my friends or family”, but it is different in therapy. Within that brief moment, you can lower your shields and be honest.
I know you think you are honest to your friends or family, but in my case, I have never been able to let down my shields. I love my brothers with all my being, but I will never be able to talk to them about what haunts my mind. I am hard wired to protect them, and our past has some dark corners that are left better hidden from their view.
There are also parts that they, Thank God were never around for. I think those moments are the ones I keep held locked away, hidden so deeply, that it is only in those moments like the other day, one will break free of its chains. It then comes thundering back, just to bang on my door, and let me know they are still there. Reminding me that I can never be free from my memories. Never free from those defining moments, that affected me on such a deep level that it changed me completely. I have found the most powerful weapon against us is our own mind.
So, being said, that is why I prefer to spend my time within the sanctuary of my therapist office. When I dare reach deep inside and put key to lock on imprisoned memories.
Somehow this has become twisted as my mind. I started writing about my depression and here I am discussing things other than it. This is how closely linked my mental illness is to my well being. How things in my past brought into play new factors. Each person’s journey is different, but not always that far from each other.
This is how we find support from like minded people. They may read this post, and think I know that feeling. I agree with what was said. This is the reason, I put myself into my blog. Why I let people inside what I am feeling. Because this is what I look for when I am reading about someone else’s journey. I want to say “yeah, I know what you mean”. I want to feel a connection, know that here is someone that understands the everyday battle. The fight to try and fit in, the fight to get fair treatment; we all know Mental Illness is still taboo.
We all know the fight to find the right medicine, the right treatment,even the right health coverage. Which is another pet peeve. Trying to get the help you need, when so few doctors accept low income patients. Or worse fall in my hellish hole of care, I have insurance that covers therapy, but has a high co-pay, and my income low enough that I cannot afford to pay. So for people like me who thrive receiving therapy, we are left out in the cold.  My therapy becomes a blog about my illness. I guess those who read my blog, stop in and make this group therapy session. I hope if I do touch you in some way, you feel you can leave me a comment.
Either way, I am blessed for all who stop by, and take the time to read my attempts to put word to page. To open myself up, and step outside my comfort zone. I am hoping as we slip fully into my favorite time of year, my depression slips away with the remnants of summer. And you come back to visit me again.

I hope you have a blessed day. Happy October!!

No comments:

Post a Comment