Mental Health

Night Number One

Before leading me to my bedroom, the two young ladies introduced me to the nurses who promptly took my vitals and chatted happily with me, despite it being close to 2 in the morning. I, however, had very little to say. The friendly nurses led me to a bedroom on the left side of the common room. It…

Cargo

It takes a long time to get mental health care in this town- at least three months, sometimes more. I couldn’t wait that long. I was a danger to myself. Furthermore, I was afraid I was going to do something irreversible to destroy my relationship with Andy. This, more than anything, was the reason I sought help.

A Hard Story To Tell

Time makes me lazy. The more time I have, the less likely I am to do something. The more time that’s passed, the less likely I am to deal with what happened. Last February I went into the hospital with a mental breakdown. I’ve been trying to find ways to talk about what happened February of…

The Writing Game

I can’t believe how much better I am now. I’ve had one hell of a year and one day I will write about it all. For now, I need to be here in this place mentally. My meds have been helping stabilize me in ways I have never felt before. I’m no longer depressed or restless or expansive or angry. I’m…

Choking

I’m choking. I sit here choking while I write this. I don’t want to be writing. I don’t want to be doing anything and I want to be doing everything. I know I’m in the middle of a mixed episode because this is what it does to me. I choke while my demons scream at me and I can’t fight, I can’t flee, so I freeze. I…

Say My Name: Talking About Depression

Recently, I saw a woman post in a Facebook group that she was so depressed yesterday and cried for about 30 hours. My first reaction was that’s weird because there aren’t 30 hours in a day. Then I thought, when I was depressed, I wish I would have been able to cry…

Good Dog

Sadness is sinking low into my belly today, not depression which somehow manages to numb as it rips your insides apart with dread and hopelessness. Today is a healthier sort of sadness- grief. I’m trying to dig through all of it, through the pain instead of around it.

Vertigo

Hopeless isn’t a strong enough word to describe the hole one sinks into during depression, whether unipolar or bipolar. For mentally healthy people, “hopeless” has a more temporary feel to it, a situational circumstance that seems hopeless- it’s not the way they view the world, life, or themselves.

A Tiny Paragraph Of Hope

Yesterday, for the first time in over a year, I caught tiny glimpses of my Self, like rays of sunlight that break though the shadows of trees as you drive down the highway.

I’m bipolar. This shit is hard. Happy or hypomanic? Bad day or dysphoric depression…

There Can Be No Lotus

I don’t even know where to begin. I have so much to share, so many stories, perceptions, and interpretations I need to convey and they’re just pin-balling around in my brain so quickly I can’t hang on to one concept for long enough to compose anything worth reading. I’m stuck in the mud.