What I Can’t Really Tell People Who Ask About My Bipolar Disorder

The doctors I have been to all agree that my Bipolar Disorder probably started at an early age. I would guess around 12. When anyone asks about being Bipolar I try to inform them as best as I can without scaring them away. If I told them the truth I’m afraid they wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore. But since not a lot of people talk to me anyway I have decided to tell it like it is for me.

I am on medications. I take 3 different meds. I drank heavily for 20 years and have been sober for 6 years. I have trouble socializing. For most of my life I have felt like an outsider. Standing outside a window watching everyone else live. I get an ache inside of me that is almost unbearable. It’s like a gaping hole in my chest that nothing can fill. I feel this way often. I have to go into the bathroom and curl up on the floor with a towel to muffle my sobs. Sometimes it’s so bad I make myself sick. My head hurts most of the time. There is always something in there telling me I’m not enough. I’m a burden, too negative, no one cares, I am invisible.

I often think of leaving this world. I don’t want to die but I don’t want to be here either. No one really hears me when I talk. My family says all I do is talk about my illnesses. If they took them seriously and actually listened instead of telling me what they think I should do maybe I wouldn’t talk so much about them. They don’t know the things I have done and seen or the things that were done and said to me. These things stay with me always. Some were traumatic enough to cause Conversion Disorder. A true case of Conversion Disorder confirmed by 2 experts because a true case is actually rarer than you think. They don’t understand how difficult it is for me when the stuttering starts. They shut me down and won’t let me talk.

Most days I wake up crying and it doesn’t get better until the afternoon. Everyday it gets harder. I run out of things that make me calm or give me a little happiness. I spend most days alone. I am told to make friends. It’s not that easy for me. I can barely get dressed most days. To hear a simple “I love you the way you are we’ll get through this” would help. Maybe. It isn’t easy knowing that people find you annoying and avoid you. So I don’t risk it anymore. This is the truth.

Sobriety, Sex, And a Surprisingly Honest Celebrity Interview (may contain adult content)

I was reading an alleged interview with Colin Farrell recently. In the interview he was quoted that he was scared to have sex sober for the first time and waited awhile before he did. I thought it was an extremely honest thing to say. These things are rarely talked about in recovery as far as I know. I’ve never heard anyone talk about it and I went to AA for 2 years and various other programs. Maybe you’re expected to only speak to your therapist about it if you can afford one.

I started drinking at 17, my first kiss was at 17 and I was drunk. The first time I held hands or slow danced with a man I was also drunk. I have never been on a date. I have never had an actual “boyfriend”. When you’re a drunk and an undiagnosed Bipolar person who believes they are worthless you try to prove your worth unfortunately in the wrong ways. Sometimes I was just manic and when I was manic I could drink more. I would act like a cat stalking it’s prey. Don’t ask how I even succeeded. I was over 200 pounds with bleach blond hair. I had pretty blue eyes, a pretty smile and good skin. I also had style for a plus sized women and always had the right make up, perfume, clothes and hair. I also went on spending sprees when manic. But I still couldn’t have been that appealing in my over confident, cocky, delusional, drunken state. I still managed to make myself a reputation. One for brawling and the other for well you know.

I am 42 years old now and I have been sober for 6 years. I wasn’t diagnosed as Bipolar until about 5 years ago. I still have not done any of those things sober. Right now I’m sick and thinking I might not ever hold, kiss, or slow dance with a man sober. Or go on a date. I guess the date comes first? lol What do I know. I’m no longer the girl that gave it all away in the hope that someone would love her. I’m stronger now, not a lot , but enough to know my worth. Maybe this will help others that are scared. Life is short. Find a kind, funny, person and go for it. You never know what the future might bring and be honest.

An Open Letter To My Best Friend

You won’t read this because you don’t go on the computer and stay away from social media. That’s ok I’m writing it anyway.

I met you when we were 12 years old. I remember we had to get shots for school or something, our mother’s were talking but we weren’t. I remember thinking how pretty you were and how you must have a lot of friends. We did start talking and it turned out you didn’t have a lot of friends. We shared the same strange sense of humor, liked horror movies and the same music. The music turned out to be Judas Priest, Motley Crue, Kiss, and all the band’s from that time. We worshiped them. It was just you and me against the world. Even though I have a twin sister I was closer to you. You understood me.

At 17 we hooked up with an older crowd of guys. This did neither of us any good. You could handle it, I could not. At times you were so oblivious to what was really going on it was frustrating. When I tried to tell you some of it a few years ago you had doubts. If there is one thing a person with Bipolar is good for it’s remembering the bad stuff. There were times I physically had to get between you and a group of guys because you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings. They would try to literally grab you. You didn’t even notice. I would step in and take care of it. There was a time a girl was looking for you at a party. She had a gun in her purse and was pissed you were dating her ex. Someone pointed me out to her and said “that’s her bodyguard you might want to rethink things”. She left really fast. I punched one of your boyfriends in the face when I found out he had hit you. I did these things because you never judged me and always loved me no matter what.

As we grew older things changed. My drinking was out of control. I started to notice a few things I didn’t like. You had a new boyfriend but refused to tell the old one that things were definitely over. I liked the new one. He’s kind, generous and thoughtful. He was living with you and I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t tell the other one the truth. So in my drunken obnoxious state I did. You were furious. It was our first fight in 20 years. You told me what right did I have getting involved when I’ve never even had a boyfriend or been in love. This broke me. Her boyfriend could see that and made her stop. He said ” can’t you see what you are doing to her? That’s enough!”. One of the few people to ever speak up for me. The next morning she crawled into my bed crying and said how sorry she was. The damage was already done.

Not long after that I was diagnosed Bipolar and quit drinking. I think you resented the fact that I wasn’t working. You were tired of the drama. You were part of a couple and I wasn’t. Alcohol was always around. When I did come over I talked more to the boyfriend than you. I realized we didn’t have much in common anymore. You don’t watch tv or movies, you don’t care about clothes, hair or make-up. You do care about cleaning and your yard. You don’t want to hear any bad news or anything negative because you get enough of that “at your job”. You’re a mail carrier not a bartender or a shrink so I don’t know why you’re hearing everyone’s problems at work. The last time I saw you it killed me. You rolled your eyes as I pulled up. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid. This was a month ago and I haven’t talked to you yet.

All of this hurts me. But I understand. It isn’t easy being around me. I don’t want to be around me. This is the hand I was dealt so I’m doing the best I can to keep my head above water. It isn’t easy I have to look for a reason everyday. There are days I can’t find one and those are the hardest. The isolation. I wish you knew the price I have paid to try to get better. Sometimes the price is too high, people ask too much of me. I am a burden and I know this. I also know I love you and we had some good years out of the 30 we’ve known each other. I don’t blame you or anyone else that choses not to be in my life anymore. It’s ok I will carry on.