I landed with a thud a few weeks ago. I thought it would follow it's usual course...down, down, down. It didn't. A bounce up came instead. I found myself wired.
Confused. I was so damn confused.
Was I going down? Was I going up? Was I ever going to land...somewhere?
It took me a while to figure it out, but I finally realized I was in a mixed state, hypomanic actions/feelings coupled with depression struggles. It is not a particularly fun place to be. Throw in some rapid cycling, going from up to down and back again over and over too quickly.
The last month or so has been like toad's wild ride. And I have wanted off.
Today is a down. A pretty dark, low down. I had to take extra medicine twice today in addition to my regular cocktail. I found it hard to talk to the cashier in the dollar store. You know, "hello" and "thank you"--that intense interaction. I sat in my car a long time tonight getting my courage screwed up to come back into my own house. And right now, sitting here in my house, I can tell you I have climbed into myself. I'm here but everything is happening independent of myself. I am not interacting with my family. I'm struggling to get coherent thoughts past the swirling vortex of darkness. The pressure inside my head and chest make it hard to breathe. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere.
I describe all that--it is what my depression looks like--and everyone's is different. I wish this were the bottom of the pit, but it can get much, much darker.
Back, when I started my struggle with mental illness, I assumed suicidal ideations had to do with sadness. It couldn't be further from the truth for me. For me, it is about feeling frantic, needing to escape my mind, escape my racing thoughts, escape from myself. I am typically able to laugh, maybe not as easily, but at least some during a depressive cycle, but in the midst, my mind is screaming at me that the laughter will disappear and I will still be stuck, still need to escape.
I know I need to ramp up the self-care, but right now that seems impossible. Not because I go to bed or sleep excessively when the darkness comes, but rather, I don't know if I can fight through the noise in my brain to decide on and carry out the needed self-care. It's hard to figure out how to help yourself when your chest is tight and heavy and your brain is racing. Right now, between each sentence I type, I keep finding myself pulling my head forward and down, lacing my fingers into my hair and rocking. My family is in the next room watching some car show, so I am holding in the screams of frustration and confusion.
Oh my word.
The noise in my brain needs to stop. But I don't know when it will. If I am lucky, tomorrow will be much lighter and brighter, but I have no promises.
Every time hell comes to roost, I wonder if I will survive. I do. The darkness and noise are so difficult to bear, but, I have survived. I have been surviving suicidal thoughts and plans for four years. There were sporadic suicidal thoughts at other points in my life, but the Bipolar II has brought the most severe struggles, by far.
I have survived those other times. I will survive this time.