02 March 2011

Bipolar Depression

I have an appointment in the morning to fuck with my meds again since the Wellbutrin seems to be doing nothing. I've been continuously depressed for weeks, probably months with the occasional mixed or hypomanic episode. I know for the last week, especially the last two days I've been an aggressive, angry ball of rage ready to rip the throat out of anyone who looked at me wrong.

As you know, I've had a rough go of it since like August. These past few weeks have been unbearable, apparently not just on me as I about lost a friend out of the deal. 

The counselor didn't exactly like the idea of me getting back together with my ex, and he raised a good point, "You're running from the withdrawal of one friend into a relationship that's likely going to hurt you." I guess we'll see if anything changes or not with him or if the friend goes back to treating me like he did before I was paranoid enough to tell him how I felt... which I'm not sure is really how I feel. Rebounding is a whore.

I locked myself up a couple of weeks ago because I found myself looking for a sufficiently sharp object to plunge into my carotid artery. This Saturday and Sunday I found myself seriously fighting the urge to cut due to my depression in general and some rough times and conversations with a friend. I think we got things worked out... but every time I say "I think" I get proven wrong.

I can't wrap my head around what it's like to watch someone you care about be in the grip of the daemon dog to the point that they're easily triggered into being a serious threat to themselves and unable to do anything about it, or thinking I do need to do something about it.

I guess that's why I spent $50 on books for the person who I thought was trying to understand, the same person that is the entire reason for this blog ever starting in the first place, so he would realize and understand what I'll divulge later.

First, this is Bipolar Depression:

Bipolar depression is not the same as regular depression or even a regular depressive episode.

The lows are so incredibly low that you, well, look around for sharp objects to plunge into your carotid arteries. Being this depressed you feel like you're drowning in your own blood and there's no way to cough it up or suction it out. You're dying and you know it.

It is not like just having the blues for a bit. This fucking shit lasts for days, weeks, months, maybe years.

So far mine's been months of fighting the dog, trying to get enough oxygen into my lungs through the blood before I aspirate to death. I've been tempted oh so many times to break my 7 or 8 year streak of not self injuring. I've thought of suicide countless times (especially recently), and thought of locking myself up as many.

Bipolars may have a day or two of relief from the hell of depression, but it's a false calm. It's like the calm you get just before the tornado picks up your house and throws it 1000 feet away with you in it. Deep down if you're suffering from bipolar depression, it's just taking a break. It's still there, lurking in the darkness, planning its next attack on your life.

As a sufferer of bipolar depression I can tell you, as a caregiver, just treat me like I'm a human. Don't change the relationship because I'm depressed. Keep treating me like you normally would, without pulling away. I can sense that, and it's worse if I'm paranoid at the time as well. The key is, if you're my friend, keep being my friend.

If I'm sounding like a broken record I guess you should find something to divert my attention from whatever I'm crying about at the moment and hand me a fucking Kleenex.

If you're going to be friends with a bipolar as bad as I am, A) You're going to have to not abandon me, B) Accept the fact that there are ups as well as downs, C) The downs may last for a long period of time, D) Try to stay strong during the downs... that's when the sufferer needs you the most, E) It's not your fault I'm down, it's just where my brain chemistry has me at the moment.

To think you've failed because you are unable to suction the blood from my throat, you're asking too much of yourself.

All you need to be able to do is give one breath, not your entire lung; dangle one piece of string, not the entire rope; be a strong friend who understands he cannot shoulder the weight of my depression, because my depression rarely makes sense; be a friend that doesn't make my problems his; most of all, be one of the few people on this earth I can trust to not see me as less than human.

1 comment:

  1. I'm currently losing stuff I know. Well, not losing it - but finding it a pain to get it out and use it from the recesses of my mind. Really sucks when homework is actually due.

    And I'm so damn tired.