Hesitant and anxious

I'm going to go to a bipolar support group. It's tomorrow at 1:30. From what I understand, it's a small group, but very tight knit. They've all known each other for quite a while.

I'm a little anxious about it. I'm afraid I'm not going to fit in or belong. I would like to get to know other people who have bipolar. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so alone. But honestly, I don't know if I have the energy needed to commit to that type of group. And I'm afraid.

I've been in a group like that before. I was in it for 5 years. I was in the same situation then: joining a tightly knit group of people and feeling like an outsider who didn't belong. I did open up and get close to them, but it took a long time. And then, when the group had to end, none of them kept in contact with me. I tried to keep in touch with them, but they didn't respond.

I felt abandoned. I felt like they didn't associate with me anymore because they didn't have to. What I was most afraid of was that they never really liked or accepted me, that they only acted like it to be nice to me since they had to see me every Monday.

I'm afraid of that happening again.

Ugh, I should just get some sleep and forget about this for a few hours.

Triggered

I watched a show on tv last week where a guy took a whole bottle of sleeping pills at once. Oh man, did that trigger me. I got an almost overpowering urge to take pills. That's been one of my coping skills in the past. When things got too bad, I'd take a handful or more of prescription medication.

I want to take pills so bad. I want to cut. I even want to do something I did once before - make a kind of tea from the Oleander plant. It's a very poisonous plant. Honestly, I don't know how I survived that.

I don't know why I want to do these things. I just know that I think about it a lot; I find my thoughts coming back to it several times a day.

With all these thoughts and urges, I don't need to lose my hope. Even if it is false hope, it's better than none at all. None at all means I give up - Game Over.

Bipolar math

Let's look at it this way: For about 4 months I was suffering constantly. Then I had about a month of freedom. If you look at that for a year's time, then 10 out of 12 months I'm in anguish. I get 2 months off a year. Looking back, that sounds about right. Is 2 months out of a whole year worth it? What's really scary is if you multiply that times 50 years. I don't even want to do the math on that one. I shouldn't do the math. That would just make it worse.

Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get an extra month of respite every few years. And let's not forget that bipolar if not treated (or in my case, unsuccessfully treated) only gets worse as time goes on. So I'm looking at a massive chunk of my life spent in unending pain from this. Almost my entire life left, actually.

How do I face that?

Being kicked when I'm already down

a - 58
d - 85
e - 83

I've spent the last 2 sessions with my therapist in tears the entire time.

I told her how I'm being told that I'll be struggling with bipolar for the rest of my life, that this is probably what it will be like for the rest of my life. And medicine doesn't seem to work well for me. She understood how I see things: why should I have hope? I'm being told not to have any and that nothing will be able to help me. That I'll just have to learn to live with it and make whatever kind of life I can with what I've got to work with.

How can one keep their faith in the face of this?

She understands that I'm in danger of losing mine. I was already crying when I told her all of this, but when she convinced me she understood, I cried even harder. I'm so miserable. I feel like if only I tried harder, I wouldn't feel so bad. But I just don't have the energy to always fight these thoughts and feelings.

I'm finding it impossible for me to accept that this is all I have to look forward to. If this is all there is, what kind of life could I possibly have? A miserable one, that's what.

I think one has to hold onto their hope and faith that things will get better. If not, one might just give up altogether and would rather not live than continue this way for another 50 years or more.

I get suicidal when I'm depressed. I'm depressed right now. And now I'm being told to give up my so-called "false hope" that things will get better. Funny, but it doesn't seem to me to be the right thing to say to someone who's hanging on by their fingertips at times. Even if it weren't going to kill my hope, at the very least it's SO not comforting. It's the same as telling a child who's feeling bad that they'll never feel any better.

Probably the worst part of this illness is that it gives you glimpses of what your life would be like if you didn't have it. I had one such glimpse a couple of months ago. All that does is make this harder. Knowing that it could be better, but it will never stay that way. That the pain will always come back, no matter what you do. That's just torturing someone who's already suffering greatly. Kicking them when they're down.