The past shapes us

I always wonder why people who have suffered trauma or have mental illness turn to drugs and alcohol for escape. What is the appeal? I ask myself quite often.

Even though my life has been more or less stable these past few years, I still find myself struggling with thoughts and emotions I cannot control. Lately, I found myself drinking more than I should have. I was on a three-day alcohol binge which left me completely exhausted now, I’m still suffering the consequences, all because I can’t control my thoughts about what happened to me in the past.

Until these last few years, my life has been a complete shit show. I didn’t have any money, I was constantly fighting with family members, my mother was basically ill all the time and out of work because of it. I was a horrid mess, I was constantly depressed to the point where I couldn’t even take a shower, always angry and fighting with everyone, I was being bullied in school, eating disorders, self-harm, suicide attempts, in and out of mental hospitals. Later I got into an abusive relationship, which traumatized me deeply and I haven’t dealt with it until this day.

I’m always ruminating on the past, even though it is not there anymore, I still think about it. It causes great pain. So I drink, or take drugs not as prescribed to deal with the pain.

It’s important to recognize that the past is the past, we are living now, we should enjoy the now and stop thinking about what happened or what could happen.

Hope whoever is reading this has a great day, enjoy the now!

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Can’t even cry

I got my three days off work. I thought this is going to be a great time to just cry my eyes out, scream and roll around in tears on the floor. No, I could only manage about 10 minutes of crying and that wasn’t enough for me to get all of it out. How am I supposed to mourn a relationship when I can’t even shed a few tears?

The drugs I’m taking are so strong that they prevent me from even having a good cry when I need it, when the circumstances are such…Two-year relationship ended and I can’t even cry…What is the meaning of this?

So, I’m just waddling around the house hazy, frazzled and disoriented, constantly sucking on my e-cig for some type of comfort.

My phone is now always silent, which perpetuates the haunting feeling of loneliness. I can’t believe I’m alone again, is this feeling enough for me to break and go back to her? I feel like nobody even cares enough, all people can say is to just get over it, don’t cry about it, etc. How are you not supposed to cry about someone you shared two years of your life with? Yes, there were a lot of bad times but there were also good times.

The thought about starting all over again is daunting. Meeting new people some time again, trying to get to know them, all that shebang. I really don’t feel like it anymore, I feel like it’s easier to be alone nowadays, there are less and less adequate people to meet, everything is so different now than it was before. She was the only one that could deal with my mental breakdowns and just me in general, I don’t think I will be able to find someone else like that.

If I can’t be with that person, I’m not going to try and be with anyone else. I live alone and I die alone.

The importance of the right medication|Mental health log

After ten years of utmost suffering, trials and tribulations, I can finally say that I’m the most stable I have ever been.

I stopped drinking, I stopped smoking, I stopped recklessly and impulsively spending my money, I stopped being crazy… After ten years a doctor finally took the time to actually think about how to help me, and he did…

I don’t want to sit here and promote medication, but if you are someone struggling with serious mental health issues, demand good treatment and good medication, because that really makes a change, the right medication can actually turn your whole life around, you will be a different person, and not in a bad way… I know there are people that don’t agree with taking medication, but I’d rather take medication than deal with my issues in an unhealthy way, like drinking, smoking and reckless behavior.

I have been in and out of doctors offices for more than a decade, and it takes so much time to actually find the right treatment, but eventually, I did.

Since I’m on the right medication, I’m calmer, more collected, I deal with issues in my daily life a bit differently, I have close to zero anxiety, I’m happier, I see life in different colors now. I have slip ups, there are days when I still don’t feel great, but it passes quicker and I bounce back almost immediately. I used to wake up with crippling anxiety and I would be so angry, I couldn’t manage my anger, I was the worst. Now, I can actually talk to people and have a conversation, which is fulfilling. I actually smile and mean it, I found out what true contentment is.

Life is simple, take care of yourself and the universe will also take care of you.


Current medication for bipolar disorder type II:

Fluoxetine

Gabapentin

Levomepromazine

Zopiclonum

Don’t wake me

Don’t wake me from my sleep…

I won’t see my screen light up or hear the beep,

I’m in too deep.

I put my cares aside and drift away,

I hug my pillow and take the leap.

Switch between dimensions,

nightmares and wishful dreams,

I have no worries…

Just for this moment,

I let my eyes close and pretend I don’t know you,

nothing around me counts,

just the street lights outside my window

covering the snow,

turning it into a photograph – sepia tone.

Sleep – like a tiny death envelopes my whole,

I am one in my bed but I’m not alone.

I don’t hear the phone, leave a message after the tone,

I’ll answer when I’m alive again,

In the morning to come…

 

Empty carapace

An empty carapace.

A string of unsolved murders tied to the feet.

Wobble through the seasons with a hollow heart.

Chocking on the hatred and the rancor,

Blood on my hands as I watch it all fall apart.

I’ve joined hands with the dead and danced with the living,

and none of those saved me from the dark.

Kept on my knees to stand up tall again,

kept my ears open despite your vicious bark.

No one can possible envision the emptiness I hold within,

a black vortex of unhinged emotion,

rage that I hold in.

A barbarous silence fills the air,

but you can’t see me,

I’m not there.

 

 

Bored

So bored and out of it,
Staring at the stale, dry cracks in the wall,
A cockroach leans in for a kiss with the dirty dish.
It’s been a while…
Look at the nightfall,
I’ve been waiting to put this cigarette to my lips,
Inhale…
Make a wish.
Smoke caressing the lungs like a gun gently brushing against the temple,
It smells like death, if the smokes are going to kill me, let them.
It’s been too long,
Already twenty-five out of seventy,
and the thought of leaving this hell seems heavenly.
I have nothing to offer,
just my worn out shell.
Like a bride rejected and left at the altar.
If I go unnoticed, I won’t have to tell.
But for now, let the bones decay,
I’ll be here in the clouds of smoke,
Waiting so patiently,
when twenty-five becomes seventy,
and my life is erased from the first, to the last day.

It’s time to stop

When you’re constantly being thrown in and out of depressive states with anxiety, you start to develop these really unhealthy habits.

You get so tired of trying things the healthy way, like not drinking coffee or smoking because it makes you more anxious, watching what you eat, etc. But when you realize that those tricks aren’t working, you start to become this, sort of, hedonistic creature. At least I do.

You’re so sick of the almost constant state of displeasure, that you start to begin to try and avoid it by any means possible. You kind of burst after trying all the time.

So a short while ago I got so tired of trying to quit smoking, quit coffee, eating less junk food, etc., I just said fuck it and started smoking like a chimney, drinking a bunch of coffee, eating bowls and bowls of pasta and junk and my mindset was and still is awful, it’s like, cut me some slack, will you? I’m struggling over here, let me do things that make me happy, even if it’s for a short while and even if they ruin my health. If you dare touch my coffee, food or cigarettes, that is where your life ends. 

Now I’m slowly watching the pounds creep back up on me because all I live off is pasta every day. Heaps of it. Because hell, I like it. Who cares, right?

I’m feeling my heart beating faster every day and my sleep getting progressively worse because of the coffee and cigarettes. But again, did I stop? No. Why? Because I simply started to cut me a bit too much slack.

And this type of mindset is not going to do anyone any good. Often times I’ll think, weeeeeell, I have this condition that is really uncomfortable, it brings me a lot of pain, so let me just make it a little bit easier for myself.

I won’t lie, going outside to have a cigarette brings me immense pleasure, so does drinking a nice, sweet cup of coffee and of course, the huge bowls of pasta and french fries make my problems go away for a bit.

But is it worth it? I think not, I think if you’re struggling the last thing you should do is let everything slide all the time and let yourself do whatever you want. In fact, you SHOULD be watching what you put into your body, you should be concerned about your health ten fold. Because your mind or your body is a lot more fragile than that of another person.

I know it is hard, we all want that relief, but it’s time…It’s time to stop!!! It’s time to stop self-loathing and making it worse for yourself.

I’ve tried to quit smoking about 15-20 times in my life, I failed, but I’ll be damned if I ever stop trying, I’ll die trying. Because in the end, it is that important.

Please take care of yourself.

 

Bipolar ad Spiritual practices

I was pondering on one thing today.

Is it possible for a person to indulge in spiritual practices with severe mental disorders?

Is it possible to rewire a damaged, anxious and depressed brain that didn’t know any better for 25 years? I just wonder…Can you make your life a bit more bearable other than taking copious amounts of medication?

I’m very into Buddhism and try to practice it to the best of my abilities, but I recently heard news about a Buddhist (Michael Stone) committing suicide.

Really goes to show you how powerful the disease really is. It has no mercy, it doesn’t care if you’re Christian, Hindu or Buddhist, it gets a hold of you anyway. So I wonder, can you tackle this disease at all?

Is it a waste of time or should you keep going? Can you teach yourself to be compassionate again? Can you return to the state when you were as a little child and conjure up the compassionate and loving self? Can you teach yourself to let go easily? What does it take and how long?

I know how easy it is to obsess over things, it’s very common for people with mental illness to be very religious. I have a friend who has schizophrenia and she is very religious and believes in Jesus with all her heart, prays relentlessly, it’s very common for people with schizophrenia to do so, she even believes meditating to be evil. So again I wonder, where is the line of practicing things in a healthy way rather than obsessing over religion and spirituality when you have a mental health problem?

Although I think spiritual practices are not the ultimate cure, it’s definetly a great way to manage your disease, but only when it’s not overdone, if it is it can be damaging.

I think taking bits and pieces of spiritual practices can be very beneficial when it is done adequately.

Eventhough I am not a fan of riligions such as Christinanity but I still believe that praying is a good thing, it promotes stillness and being still is what we all need.

‘To a mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders.’

 

Nothing

Sitting here in tears while my mom is asleep in the other room. Just crying because I don’t know where to go from here anymore.

Seems like my life is on the rocks. I have no job and barely any money. I’m back to square one, looking for a low paying job with a bachelors degree. This is my life, it is nothing. I am nothing. I’m almost 25 and achieved absolutely fucking zero.  All has almost fallen apart.

After all, I don’t think I’d wish this kind of life of mental torture on anyone I hate. A life that is complete zero. A waste. That is going nowhere.

All I feel is shame that I just couldn’t fulfill my dreams and achieve anything.

I hate how unfair everything is. Someone gets 5 million a month and someone like me is sitting on an old bench in some shithole without a penny and can’t get a job with higher education. How fair is the world?