It's funny how that happens

It's amazing how you can be so distracted by physical pain that you mostly forget the severe mental pain you've been in. (I guess that's why I have the habit of cutting.) Why am I in physical pain, you ask? No, I didn't cut. I had to have a bone marrow biopsy yesterday. I'm still hurting from that, but it's not too bad. Nothing Advil can't take care of.

I was so scared in the hospital. But as scared as I was of standing up for myself to the staff, I was more afraid of the pain of the biopsy. So I stood up for myself and was adamant that I wanted sedation. No "just a local" for this girl! I got what I wanted and I don't remember a thing. I do remember the anesthesiologist, though. He was really nice. I felt safe with him.

Well, I would write more, but I think instead I'll just go lay down and rest. I'm hurting more in this chair than I was on the couch.

Dangling from the ledge

I want to run away. As fast and as far as I can.

I'm dangling from the ledge and little by little my fingers are slipping. I don't know how much longer I can hold on.

You know how when your skin is burned it's much more sensitive and everything hurts more than usual? Even a breeze will make those damaged nerves stand up and scream. That's me since Friday.

I need to go to the lake. I haven't in several days. I need to be closer to the water and nature.

Mock Halloween and primal urges

I'm loving this weather! It feels like October. Like Halloween. Very strange weather for the southern U.S. for this time of year. But you know what? Weather-wise, Halloween is one of my favorite times of the year. I want to take this weather into my soul and never let it go.

I'm feeling reckless, daring. Very sexual. I want to take risks. Experience pleasure.

I'm feeling impish. This weather is making me feel so primal. I can't explain it. Perhaps because I'm so intertwined with the Goddess and the Earth. With all of nature, actually.

I'll probably go driving down the road to the lake. That's a wonderful road to drive with the windows down when you have perfect weather.

Un-special birthday

This was just about the worst birthday I think I've ever had.

The only gift given to me today was a boquet of roses by my stepson's girlfriend. I was very touched.

Yesterday my mom had me take her to the store where she bought my birthday present. Well, I picked it out, put it in the cart, brought it home, and brought it in the house. The only thing mom did was pay for it. So it really wasn't like a birthday present at all. I didn't even get it on my birthday. But maybe I'm just being unreasonable. She did get me a nice card, though.

No gift at all from hubby. Not even a card.

No birthday cake either.

I was hoping at least for a special dinner out somewhere. No such luck. At 8:30 I finally ended up going to a fast food place to get supper for everyone because I was so hungry my stomach hurt. To top it all off, it was cold and raining pretty hard on the way to get the food.

I was so miserable and crying so hard that I could barely see the road in front of me. Once I got there I called and left a message for my therapist. I was hurting so much and I wanted to hear her voice so bad, even though I knew she wouldn't be there. I don't even remember what I said in my message to her. I felt so alone.

When I saw those roses today, I wanted to cry because someone that wasn't even family had done more than anyone else to show they thought my birthday was special. No one else made me feel that way. Never before have I had a birthday where I didn't feel special. I didn't feel special at all today. It made me so sad.

Turbulence

I'm feeling a lot right now. Angry, overwhelmed, sad - those are the main feelings. I want to scream, cry, cut, throw things, break things!

I don't know if I want to be 34! All 34 means is that for 18 years no one has helped me. That's all it means. That I've just suffered another year of torment. It really is just proof that nothing has worked for me and nothing will.

I'm not even halfway through my life! I can't go through the rest of my life this way. They say you can do anything. After all, what other choice do you have? There is always another choice.

How can I possibly have gone from 16 to 34 and NOT gotten any better?? Not only haven't I gotten better, I've actually gotten worse! It doesn't make sense!

Right now any little thing is too much. I don't feel like I can handle anything. I hate this!

Enduring spirit or cold reminder?

I'm 34 today. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Part of me is surprised I made it to 34. Part of me is afraid that I'm facing another possible 34 years of this torment. Then there's the little kid part of me that's happy and excited because it's my birthday and that's my day - no one else's. And I'll admit it - the presents are very cool. :-)

It being my birthday and all, I feel like reflecting. I never expected to make it this far. Every year I expect that I'll be dead before my next birthday. And somehow every year another birthday comes and goes and I'm still here. Talk about a testament to the power of the human spirit - to endure such pain and suffering year after year and still find a way to continue on. However, due to the duality I'm experiencing lately, I also see the flip side. That instead of it being a testament of the enduring spirit, it's a cold hard reminder that things will never change for me. I've seen myself go from 16 to 34 without change in the turmoil and pain. That is not a good thing, and does not predict a happy future.

This last year was a very hard one for me. My dad died, my Mom moved in with me, I experienced suicidal depressions and the highest of manias, not to mention this current mixed episode. Many changes and fluctuations. For over a solid year my life has been in chaos, and has yet to settle down.

Which path to take?

I can feel deep inside that I'm all out of strength and I know I need them to take over for me.

However, now I have another foe. I got my lab work back. My white count is still way too high. It hasn't changed at all in these past 3 weeks. Whispers of leukemia drift in the background. That scares me.

But these new feelings I have toward my bipolar scare me too.

So now the question is: which do I focus on? Do I put what energy I have left into my mental health or physical health? Because I'll be totally honest with you - I don't have the strength or energy to do both. Maybe not even one at this point. My reserves are all tapped out.

What do I do? Hubby and my friend say to focus on the bipolar. I'm afraid to not focus on the other. What if not focusing on it makes it worse? And if I focus on the other, I'm afraid the bipolar will win. It's already so close anyways.

I don't know what to do, and to ask those who can advise would automatically put me on the bipolar path. Maybe that's the one I should choose. It certainly is the more dangerous of the two since I've lost my will and faith, I would think. But then again, I'm not a medical doctor, so how am I supposed to know the other isn't just as dangerous, just in a different way.

My fears are going around in circles. I'm not going to get anywhere tonight. I think I just need to keep walking in the direction I was already pointed and see what happens from there. Maybe they can help me be more comfortable with that decision.

Elusivity defined

I finally defined what's been so elusive these past few days. I've lost 2 things:

1) the will to fight
2) the faith that my bipolar will get better

I need both of those to survive this illness. Otherwise I'll just lay down and die. Which is what I'm willing to do at this point, and I don't like it at all.

I want to be clear on something. I'm NOT suicidal. I have no visions or plans to overdose on meds or shoot myself with one of hubby's guns. I don't want to die. I want to live. And I believe in order to live, I need to get those 2 things back that I lost. I just don't know how to do that.

All I can hope is that they don't lock me up. I'm not in imminent danger. I'm not even suicidal. The only thing I am is if I were knocked down onto a railroad track with a train coming, I wouldn't care about getting back up. Is that enough to lock me up? I don't know. This is new territory for me.

Too high a price

I've decided to risk the loony bin. I need help desperately, and the only way to convince them how dire it is, is to tell them how dire it is.

I don't want to die. In fact, I want to live very much. There's so much in this world that I love. I don't want to lose any of it. That's why I'm going to talk to my shrink on Wednesday. I'm going to be upfront and honest about these feelings. Actually go to them instead of waiting for them to ask and then dance around the question out of fear. I'm going to go to them because I know deep down that if I don't get help soon, I won't be around much longer. And I very much want to be around. I've talked to hubby. He wants me to ask for help, too.

This change that occurred the other night in my thinking is so elusive. I can barely explain it to myself, let alone anyone else. The closest I can come is this: I want to live. But if the price of living is all this mental pain, then the price is too high. I've gotten nothing but empty promises for 16 years, the pain for 18 years. If someone can't help me, can't convince me that in 50 years I won't be exactly the same, then enough is enough. I'm done.

That's why I'm telling my shrink. I don't want to get to that point where I'm out of options. I already feel like I'm speeding there crazy fast. And this time, out of options is for real.

Will I risk the loony bin?

I'm scared. Scared of my life actually ending, although I know that's the survival instinct. Scared of the end hurting. Scared that if I'm honest with my shrink on Wednesday that he'll have me hospitalized. I'm scared of being in that place. I've been there once before and it wasn't nice.

Do I really want to say anything that will risk my freedom? I could actually end up on 1 on 1 in there. And I thought I had no privacy before. Also, there's no therapy in that place. Only locked doors and watching eyes. What's to change my mind about everything while I'm in there? And if I don't change my mind, how long will they hold me?

I wouldn't be able to see my shrink, therapist, or doctor. The look on hubby's face when he visits me in that place makes me want to cry for doing that to him. It breaks my heart. Do I want to do that to him again?

If I get thrown in there, I've already decided I would want everyone to be told, including hubby, that it's to get my meds adjusted.

The Whole World and no privacy anywhere

I'm feeling very sad and angry. Why did this happen to me? Why couldn't I be happy and normal? Why was I singled out for a life of misery?

I went out to the lake about an hour ago, about midnight or so. I was going to cut my arm while I listened to the sounds of the water lapping against the dock. Unfortunately, there's only 1 light pole out there (which is nowhere near the dock) and the moon is just a sliver, so it was pitch black and I couldn't see a thing.

So I drove around for at least an hour looking for somewhere that's lit but private so I could cut. I can't do it here at home - no privacy. The only place that I could find was too close to a parking lot where there were some police.

I could just see it... Officer: "What were you planning on doing with these utility blades?" Me: "Cut my arm" Officer: "We're going to have to take you in to be evaluated" And just like that, off to the hospital! Great! :-(

Personal Truth

Last night I finally admitted something to myself: I don't care if I die. I know that's been rolling around in my head for several days now, since it was first pointed out to me. But something's changed about what that idea means to me. I don't know if I can even put it into words.

When I was first asked if I would care if something happened to me, I said no. But my answer was cavalier. I meant it, but it wasn't coming from the core of my being. I've thought a lot about that conversation since then. And I've really taken a look inside myself. Last night I realized that now it really is coming from the core of my being.

It's weird. The struggle inside is gone. I'm calm. I would still rate very high on the depression scale that I do for CBT, but the inner turmoil is gone. Once I accepted, truly accepted, that knowledge last night, I felt this peace descend over me. I've never felt anything like it.

My birthday is on Friday and the pagan gathering/party that I've been looking forward to since January is on the 13th. I don't want to miss either of those things. So I'm going to keep quiet for a while. Let this new level of understanding soak in.

In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the things I love. Being at the lake, listening to the birds and my fountain, watching the wind blow the trees. I'll spend time with hubby and show him how much I love him. I'll cuddle with my sweet cat. Watch a sunset, eat some chocolate, listen to music.

Even though I don't even have anything in mind with regards to my future, when I wrote that last paragraph I felt like I was listing the things I'll be saying goodbye to. I got a little sad. I guess that shows how much my thoughts have changed. It's real to me now. The illusions are all gone.

At the lake

I had to get out of the house today. My plan was to head to the mall, or maybe to the bookstore to read for a while. You can just settle in a big overstuffed chair and read a whole book without having to pay for it. For me, who's in big trouble for the finances damage, that's ideal. A bonus is that I can escape my life for a while. So those were my plans. I was all set to go. All I had with me were my keys, driver's license, and cell phone. No money, either paper or plastic.

I never made it to the mall or bookstore. I was feeling really bad so I decided to go to the lake for a while first. The lake soothes me. Once I got there I realized I wouldn't want to go to my dock because of all the rain. The roads would be muddy. I settled for the boat dock. No mud to get to that one. I sat on the dock for a while, then people started to come with boats. I watched them, wishing I could go for a ride. I love being in a boat on the water, and I never get the opportunity.

I started hoping that one of them would ask if I wanted a ride. If one of them had, I'd have said yes. Most of them talked to me, but it was all just small talk. Shortly before I left there was one guy who I thought might ask, but he had a boat problem. So I gave up and left. A boat ride would have been nice, though.

Smoking and Passive Suicide

Hubby is getting very impatient. He's adamant about quitting smoking. And he says he can't quit unless I do, too. He's pressuring me a lot. I do want him to quit. Part of me wants to quit, too. But I'm also very scared.

The last time I quit I went into a tailspin and dropped into a major depression that lasted months. At the time my doctor said quitting had caused the depression because of the chemical changes in my brain and that if I tried to quit again, most likely I'd crash again. I was going to quit in January, but I was depressed and unstable and he advised waiting to quit until I got stabilized. So that I could handle the withdrawl better.

Do I sound fucking stabilized to you?? I'm so UN-fucking-stabilized I don't know what's going on from one hour to the next! Half the time I'm flirting with disaster and loving every minute of it, the other half I'm wishing and hoping for the disaster to hit so the pain will stop.

So let's see if I've got this straight... I'm extremely unstable and rapidly cycling, home life is chaotic, serious financial problems, let's not forget my white count, and a strained relationship with hubby that's now even more strained because of him wanting me to quit smoking. What, did he think I wanted life to be more of a challenge?? As if it weren't hard enough already.

I don't know what to do. I want to ask my shrink, but I don't see him until the 11th, I think. I could ask my therapist, but I don't think she'll understand. I don't think she believed what my doctor said when I was going to quit last time. I think she, like hubby, thought I was using that as an excuse to keep smoking. And I'll admit, I was. But that didn't mean I didn't believe it was the truth. I wasn't ready to quit and I didn't want to face a depression for trying to quit.

Honestly, the only reason I want to quit is they're so damn expensive. I don't care about the health reasons for quitting. What do they say, every one you smoke takes time off your life? Ok. Works for me. And quitting adds that time back? I don't know about that . You see, that plays into the whole prolonging the agony and misery that is my life. That's a bad thing.

I don't know how to deal with the huge amount of guilt and pressure that hubby's dumping on me. He's been dumping it for a while, but he's been ramping up the amount lately. I want to run away. There's no way to relieve the pressure that won't get me into trouble somehow. I feel trapped. Not a good place for me to be.

Would I be missed?

I think if anything were to happen to me people wouldn't really be too upset. Oh, everyone would act like they were upset, because that's what society calls for, but secretly they'd be relieved. They wouldn't have to deal with me anymore. I'm a miserable person to be around. Don't they think I know that? Even I don't want to be around me! I hate myself so much.

Does anyone see how much pain I'm in? Can anyone hear me crying out for help?

Bad neighborhood

My head is a bad neighborhood to be in.

I heard that on tv tonight. I thought it very fitting.

Worthless and alone

I wanted to call my therapist today. I needed to hear her voice, listen to her rationality, but was too afraid to. I'm in a very bad place today. Somehow I can't account for $700.00 and hubby is pissed. I don't know where it went. I don't even remember spending it.

I'm worthless. I can't do anything right. I've screwed up the finances majorly and I haven't cleaned the house. I don't want to do anything but lay down and stop. I'm so tired.

The urge to cut is really strong right now. If I hurt on the outside, it will distract me from the immense pain on the inside. At least for a little while. At this point I'll take whatever I can get.

I want to reach out. Ask for help. But there's no one to go to anymore. I've driven everyone away. Even hubby is sick of me and my crap. The only reason he's still hanging around is the kind of man he is. Yes, he loves me, but love only goes so far. You can love someone and not be able to stand being around them. But marriage is forever for him. You take the bad with the good. But if he'd known what he was signing up for all those years ago, he would have run so fast as far away from me as he could. I don't blame him. I would too.

The Invisible Line

Everyone is so sick and tired of dealing with me. Why don't I ever learn?? When I was 16 I almost lost my best friend because she was tired of all my crap. The only way I kept the friendship was to learn very quickly not to lean on people. You can use them up in a heartbeat. Ever since then I've tried very hard not to use people up.

Sometimes I come across someone who says they want to help, so I let them in a little. They say to come to them if I need them. I don't at first, then when they continue to say it's ok to come to them, I lean on them a little more. I start to feel like I can count on them to be there when I need them.

Then everything changes.

There must be a line. A line between how much leaning is ok and what's way too much. It must be a very fine line because I can't see it. And no one will tell me where it is! I always seem to cross it, though. Then everyone starts backing away, distancing themselves from me. Acting more irritated and abrupt, as if tired of me. I never know that I've crossed that line until it's too late. Then I don't know what to do.

I'm a stupid person who can't learn from the past. I've done this so many times, you'd think I'd know by now. But not me. No. Why do I keep doing this? Why can't I learn where that stupid line is?

Weary

I'm beginning to think the bipolar may win in the end. Right now it's stronger than I am. And it certainly has more endurance and stamina than I have. This past month has proven that. I'm so tired of the fight. The question is, do I have enough left in me to try to turn this episode around? Honestly, I don't know. Tonight my answer is no. But tomorrow I may feel differently. There's just no predicting it anymore.

I'm not actively suicidal. But if something were to happen to me, I wouldn't mind. You know how in movies there'd be a person dying of something and the doctors would say if only they had to will to fight, to live. Well, if I were that patient, I wouldn't have the will.

I'm close to giving up. Maybe that's where the frantic panicky feelings have been coming from. From my stupid instinct of survival. Maybe inside I'm screaming for help. I don't know. But what I do know, however, is that if that help is only temporary and just prolongs the agony, maybe I don't want it. That's only false hope. And that's the kind of hope you don't want. It just sets you up for more pain now and later on down the road.

My shrink sees this. He knows that I'm close. Closer than ever before to ending it. I think he thinks that if somebody doesn't help me for real, and soon, that I'll die, whether it be by my hand or something else. I've been offered the illusion of help for 16 years. I don't want any more illusions. If it's not real, then I don't want it. He sees all this. He knows. I think maybe he can help, but the only problem is that it's 2-3 weeks between sessions with him. That's a very long time.

What in the hell was I thinking?

I'm mortified. Ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated. What the hell was I thinking these past couple of days? It was like I was a whole other person. I'm lucky I wasn't raped or killed in a high speed car accident. My judgement was totally gone. I know that if any one of my mental health care team had witnessed me at the worst, I would have been hospitalized for my own safety. Not for suicidal thoughts, but to protect me from my own judgement. To stop me from ruining my life. I came so very close to ruining my life.

I feel so bad. I want to cry and I want to cut. I want to cut very very badly. I want a lot of cuts and I want to see the blood and feel the sting of the blade. God, the urge to cut is so bad I'm shaking.

I talked to one of the nurses today. Told her about this latest swing. She talked to my doctor and he's seeing me tomorrow.