Once more into the breach . . .

I doubt it will come to anyone’s surprise who knows me tha I’m Bi-Polar. I have avoided saying that out loud online for years knowing long before people made an issue of it that some employers may use what you say online against you. But at 42 I really don’t care anymore it’s as much as who I am as the skin over my body. Yes I take medication on a daily basis and the majority of the time there isn’t a problem.  But while there are down sides to the problem there are just as many upsides.  We tend to be more creative. Think outside of the box. If you’re  being chased by zombies we can stand watch longer because of manic phases.  Granted I’ll sleep for 24 hours later once we find a safe house but see we do have our advantages.

So for the last 7 days I’ve been on a downward spiral.  It’s hard to put words on it though. It started out as anger on the first day as I cling to the edge of the pit as I don’t want to fall down. Ready to rip people apart for what ever was the tiniest infraction in my mind. Didn’t answer the phone quick enough? You’re a waste of human flesh. You’ve deemed your worthy of my presence and decided to try and talk to me without me inviting you to hold audience with me? Foolish mortal. . .Darkman Pink Elephant has always been the closest to the feelings that run through me during this time.

By the second day everything I said came out of my mouth like a pit viper.  I decided that it was best for everyone to just barricade myself in my bedroom.  Normally sleep will help me “reboot” my brain.  By that night I was feeling better only to have Leonitus kick me back into the pit that night.

I can’t speak for anyone else about what this feels likes to them only for myself.  Being shoved into the pit hurts.  Sometimes you don’t even realize that you’re falling until you’re at the bottom. Sometimes you just rage as your hand grasp at the sides of the walls while you fall desperately seeking a hand hold as the flesh is ripped from your bones on the jagged rocks.  Regardless of how you got to the bottom of the pit, either the express elevator or the slow jagged fall, you sit there and take inventory of your situation.  This time it wasn’t bad, I could see the light at the top of the pit so I started the climb.  By Saturday afternoon I was nearly out to a level that I felt I could associate with people again.  Saturday night I was feeling normal again.  But there were problems with the car.

Sunday I take the car to my parents and my brother and his family were there.  His youngest daughter had a birthday not to long ago that we didn’t attended.  Everyone’s outside except my niece and I so I ask how her birthday was and that I was sorry I didn’t make it but I didn’t find out what the plan was until an hour before and I was already at work.  Some how this got translated into that I said I wasn’t invited and my brother explodes into the house and starts yelling at me how I need to do this and that.  Doesn’t ask what I said or anything else.  Welcome back to the pit. At this point in time I’m pretty much done with my brother.  He has done this since I came back to Oklahoma and it’s best if we don’t talk any more as far as I’m concerned.  I feel sorry for my nieces and my daughter cause I think they should have some sort of relationship but I can’t see it ever happening.

So by Tuesday I’m climbing back out again only to have someone else shove me back in the hole. Now it’s Thursday and I finally feel like I’m on the verge of crawling back out again. I’m almost on stable ground and have my feet back under me.  But I’m waiting to fall again.  Today i’m at a place that I feel like I need to withdraw from the world for a while until I’m stable.  But people don’t understand. They don’t understand how much energy it takes to pull yourself out. How much control it takes those first few days to only lash out verbally. How tired you are at the end of this cycle. How thankful you are this cycle only lasted 7 days this time. And wonder how much damange you caused to yourself and others.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.