anxiety · bipolar · empathic · relationships · symptoms

When your heart pulls you

Ever have that feeling that there was a tugging on your soul/being/heart? Whenever you saw this person or heard their voice or saw something they’ve created. It touched you. You felt tied to that person. You had feelings and concern for that person and yet you’ve never met them in real life.

The internet can be deceiving. There are trolls and creepy people out there whose only desire is to satisfy some NEED they may possess. You have to develop some type of radar to stay away from these traps.

I met my best friend on the internet. Somehow we just clicked and it felt like we knew each other whole lives.

I’ve got that feeling for someone. It’s hard to live with because I have to filter everything through my illness. Do reality checks and just stay positive about existing. I’m a work in progress and it’s going well. I can handle things with more confidence than before and my self-image is higher than it’s ever been in my life.

I’m accepting “me.” Trying to live in the moment. Keeping my stability. Taking care of loved ones. These are priorities. This heart pull. These feelings. I don’t know what to do with them. He’s on my mind daily and he doesn’t know who I am.

I’d say it’s a symptom of the BiPolar. It’s never manifested itself in this manner. My body reacts with an increased heartbeat and that feeling of attachment. I believe in soulmates. I also know that I am sick. So I’m confused.

Maybe I need some internet downtime. I don’t know if these feelings will ever go away.

I’m not going to stalk him or do something drastic. My stability is sound, although what I wrote above sounds insane. But I feel him.

Like a group of moody clouds over the ocean. Whatever happens, after I publish this, I’ll be able to tell if it’s symptoms of my illness or some empathic tie to another soul.

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bipolar · depression · rant

Not my Day

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Too much noise. Too many people. An exhausting workout. A wonderful person dies. The neighbors throw a party and shake the house. It’s still going on despite my complaints.

All while you battle negative thoughts. Depression and loneliness. Not even a fish to come home to.

At this moment, it’s not even home.

Thank God for tomorrow. At least there’s a chance for improvement.

anxiety · bipolar · depression · Life · Poetry

Empty Mornings – A Poem

Waking up

Opening eyes

Dry mouth and sore thighs

The chairs are barren

The table set

The dishes washed

I never leave a mess

No one ever calls

But just in case

The apartment is clean as gallery walls

Silent Sundays

Still Friday nights

Saturday is for television

And Popcorn for one

Things become familiar

Medication routine

Waiting for it all to kick in

So I can function once again.

Searching for the meaning of this emotional state

Popping a pill to quell the anxiety

Eating chocolate to satiate

Not knowing what I want

Not knowing what I need

Just knowing there is emptiness

If it stopped suddenly

I would find it all peculiar

Living so long like this makes living without impossible

And Saturday’s are for television

And Popcorn for one.

DIH – 9/26/18

anxiety · bipolar · mental health · mental illness · Self Image · Thankfulness · Thoughts

Morning Walks

 

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My morning walks are helping my moods. It lifts my spirits and allows me to clear my mind of negative thoughts and things I have to do for the day. They reduce my anxiety and that is the main thing.

Although I did have two in a row after coming back from one recently. Triggers and timing are all I have to say about that incident.

I believe I am stable which is a good place. I’m feeling so much better about myself and am taking steps to improve my self-esteem.  Things just don’t seem to bother me as much. I have my fears and doubts and a full range of emotions. Just like everyone else.

I can control somethings in my life and accept that there are things which are out of my control. I’m not a control freak, never have been. In the whole circle of things, I need to remind myself that others will believe what they will and do what they do, no matter what you advise.

I can’t save the world. And I don’t think I want that responsibility either. I can make changes in my life and hopefully advise positively to my friends. I can raise my voice to things I support. Help when I can and provide random acts of kindness without expecting anything in return. I love doing this the most. 🙂

There are a few things I want to do that are simple and will provide me with joy. Nothing serious, just little goals which make me happy. I like taking pictures with my phone, posting on Instagram or just scrolling through others pictures of nature. I’m trying to keep things simple as possible, that’s when I function at my best.

When you’ve got a three-year-old running through the apartment above your head you thank God for headphone.

“Just Hold Me Like Johnny Cash.” – Lenny Kravitz is a beautiful song I think I will hold in my heart forever. It’s off his new album “Raise Vibration.” Required listening.

My mother is still alive. There’s a loneliness to the song for me. Being alone. Always wondering if and when someone will come into my life. Wondering if I’m cursed to die alone. I think that’s my biggest fear.

 

anxiety · bipolar · Life · Meds

Things are changing… Slowly

I can tell when the meds begin to kick into my system. My thoughts line up, my anxiety lessens, things feel slightly stable. I can tell I need a bump in the dosage. I’m on the lowest dose now. I’m almost there. Almost back to stability or some resemblance of my definition.

I triggered myself before going to bed. It’s strange how you can forget what causes the nightmares and what will give you a good nights sleep.

I have to talk it through with my therapist. There’s something I think I know the answer too, but I’m not sure.

I have defined this trigger and it affects my entire life. Things I have to avoid in order to feel safe. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to work through this one.

Molestation is a life-altering occurrence which I don’t think people fully acknowledge. You can work your way around it and learn how to deal with it in your life. But it never goes away. It hides until it’s triggered. The fucked up fact is that sometimes you don’t know what that trigger will be.

 

anxiety · bipolar · depression · Life · Meds

Anxiety

Surprising I got more support for my short story on FB than here. I thought those of us who get it, would understand the story more. Whatever. Nobody reads this shit anyways.

The anxiety between the get together and my mother’s cataract surgery is starting to get to me. I’m literally having to take it day by day. Can’t think beyond today or I’ll get overwhelmed.

I just want to disappear into my house and never come out. Except for food and therapy. There’s a drop in and I want to go. Probably will. But I doubt the Marvin in me will enjoy it.

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LIFE DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT LIFE

 

I should be very happy about my story being published. But I kinda feel like it’s not legit. Like they just needed a story to finish off their publication and threw mine in, mistakes and all.

Two other publications declined it because it wasn’t what they were looking for, “I GUESS NOT!”

No one wants reality anymore. No one wants to read about the mentally ill unless it’s “HAPPY”. There’s nothing fucking happy about existing with this shit.

But we make due. We have happy moments and those are the ones we have to hold onto.

Just shovel us back into the sanitariums and forget us again. You practically are doing that again.

What’s my audience? People. People who want to understand the truth. The reality of mental illness.

Yeah. I guess that makes two people. Me and my friend.

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN MY STORY HERE’S A LINK TO THE ORIGINAL POST.

STORY PUBLISHED.

anxiety · bipolar · Life · Meds

Doing Better

Need an extra nap soon. Going to be up most of the night at a concert. My first BIG venue concert and I’m hoping I don’t freak. Gonna take my anxiety pill before I go and stay hydrated.

I talked to my therapist and she kept the printed out version of my blog post last time. I don’t even remember what it said. I just put it out there to get it out of my head and it’s gone. One day I’ll read all of this, just not now.

I get the feeling that I educated them as to who I am and what I would and would not do. I am not stuck in my therapy. That is clear, we agreed upon that. They thought I was isolating and staying indoors and away from people and seeing my mom every day etc.

This is after I was told by my Pdoc not to go outdoors in the sun because of the effects it has on me, because of my meds. DUH!

I told them about my physical limitation and how not having a thyroid causes anxiety and depression. So although the meds are doing their job, I’m still going to go through times of anxiety and depression as a physical manifestation. DUH!

I know their main fear is that after the inevitable death of my mother, I’m outta here too. I need to build my own life and I am trying. But it’s not as easy as it sounds. With the anxiety and depression.

My mom and I talk every day, but we have our separate lives too. Although I do have difficulty when it comes time to leave. I still believe we should be living together and still doing our own thing. But we are not rich.

I do what I can for her and believe she should never go without. She sacrificed so much for me to help ensure that I grew up with a good moral outlook on life. Done. Now I just want her to be happy and comfortable.

She’s allergic to the rug in her apartment, but there’s nothing she can do about that, it’s a senior living complex. Everyone has the same rug.

I have more inflammation with my Sjögrens. Nothing they can do about that. I think it’s the weather.

Mood wise. I’m ok. Not good. Not bad. Just ok. I’m dealing with everyday life and for the moment. I’m ok. I’m not looking any further than that.

I have to accept that people don’t change when they feel that there is nothing wrong with their own behavior. No matter how many times others have pointed out these faults. I’m talking about Asshole.

Patience is a virtue. Guess who’s VIRTUOUS?

Going down for the nap. Hope tonight goes well. I’m not Sally Socialite and I’m kinda stuck when it comes to talking about myself. Read me like braille.

My writing had a short start this morning. I got some things down when my neighbor started her noise again. Headphones are a must, can’t avoid it.