Hauntingly Undeserving

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Today is a day that I feel like everyone is wearing masks… especially those closest to me.
That they are hiding things – particularly things they don’t like about me.

It’s almost as if I NEED something to be wrong so I can at least pin this feeling on a source.  Having these feelings for no damned good reason is frustrating and disheartening.

Suddenly everyone is my enemy or they are deceiving me – not because I want them to be, but just because I’m sure it is so; or at least my niggling thoughts try to make me believe I feel it is certain deep down inside.

Give me a reason not to be happy… I cannot trust being happy… It’s a set up.

Believe!  Believe!  It’s okay to be happy and it is truly possible.

Do you believe?
Yes.
Okay good… oh by the way – it’s all a façade!

Yes, see, I told you!  I’m not enough, I’m imperfect, and I suck.  I knew it!
When will I stop believing in believing?
When will I just come to terms with it?
When will I realize that I am not worthy?
I’ve been told so, over and over.
All the while I try to deny it and believe I deserve, can and will have things in life that bring peace within me.
Yet, when I have them and there’s nothing to fight to prove, I feel my smokescreen lighten and I remind myself that I cannot have this happy and it’s only a matter of time before something reminds me of that.

I don’t deserve it.

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Oopsie Medicated (Poetry)

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Grins abound,
Tiny intruders scurry;
Caught by the corner of the eye,

Then disappear.

Slow motion,
Tracers coloring the mind;
Keeping a shit-eating grin on my face,

No need to fear.

Floating on,
Amusements spawn;
Texture tickles my fancy,

And oh the things I hear.

I am hovering,
Everyone else is grounded.
They have no idea how I see them,

Inside my funny sphere.

I’ll laugh
With no explanation;
They’ll just assume they understand.

But they are not here.

Sorry, this is for my amusement alone.

Ugly Eyes (Poetry)

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Seeing the world through ugly eyes…

Not the way I like to see.
Rubbed the wrong way,
I struggle to stay optimistic.

Some days it seems like “Fuck It” is the best answer.

Seems like, being the key there,
It never works out as nicely.

But ugly eyes…

Sight cast over with cynicism.
Effort seems pointless.
Humanity is exasperating.

Why do I play this game, day after day?
It all seems so burdensome.
What’s the purpose to all of this?

Some days I think I’d be happier left out of this world.

Give me a forest to lie in,
A tree for shade,
Some berries to nibble,
And no part of this thing we call civilized life.

 

The Journey (Poetry)

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Challenged.
Turned sideways,
Exist as two instead of one…

I never expected otherwise,
Hope is just a wish in disguise.

Independent.
I fly horizontal,
Fulfill my roles as noble as I can…

I believe I do my absolute best,
Morals and love – I’ll wing the rest.

Just hold on!

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As exhausting as rapid cycling can be, I have to admit that I like the perk of not being depressed for weeks or months on end.  I have always thought that those that struggle with Type II Bipolar are remarkable, because frankly, I’m not sure how I’d fair during an elongated depression.

That being said, after a brief three day run, I woke up today feeling much lighter.

It’s astonishing how a slight shift in my chemicals can change my world so drastically.  The same things that I looked at yesterday or a couple of days ago and felt absolutely overwhelmed by or saw as the worst of the worst possible situation now look simpler and endurable.  Nothing about these things have changed; it’s all me.  It’s the way the gloomy part of my brain chooses to whisper in my ear and distort my vision.

That’s what I’ve learned to anchor myself to when I’m going through a state that is especially challenging – be it mania or depression; or my favorite, a mixed state.  I continually remind myself that what I see and feel during these times aren’t always truthful, but a scribbled over version of reality.

Sometimes I have to remind myself 200 times in one day NOT to act on that thought/feeling; to just wait and see if I feel the same about it next week.  My depressed thoughts may tell me that someone doesn’t like me, or that I am inadequate, or that I totally suck as a mother; but that’s all it is, my depressed mind saying that to me (for fun I guess?).
I cannot think of a more effective way for me to appear nuttier than peanut butter than treating every dark whisper as a fact.
Once you open a can, it’s open.  Once you express a thought to another it cannot be unheard by them.

My best advice is DON’T DO IT.  Just hold on, wait until you see the little signs that you are rising again, before you run with ANYTHING!  (I say this realizing that there are going to be some things that just have to happen, that cannot be put on hold.  Sometimes life doesn’t give a shit if you’re bipolar and doesn’t have time to wait for you.)

At times when I am in a depressed state, I hole up and interact as little as possible.  Yes, partly because it is too damned challenging and I simply don’t have the energy; but the other part is, the less I do, the less of a mess I’ll be making out of things around me.

The people in your life will understand, or they won’t.  The ones that do not, will either get over it or they will get on with it (it being life) without you.

The important part is that you won’t be trying to undo a bunch of regrets when you shift into the next bipolar state.

It will all be okay, just keep holding on!

Trapped Inside Myself

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I’m in some kind of way.

A heavy sadness resides within, long sleeps and strange confusing dreams.

All will eludes me for no good reason. The only desire I have is to just stop, cease to be. If only I could crawl into a corner and quietly disintegrate.

What is wrong with me?

It would all be easier if I could just decompose back into the Earth.

Then there is the overwhelming sense of responsibility … There are people that rely on me. I hate letting my loved ones down. I feel selfish.

Overwhelmed, I push.

And I push.

Hoping all the while my fucked up brain will shift again.

Trapped inside myself.

Unfamiliar Dish (poetry)

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Sitting in reflection,
Tears of disbelief
Escape my eyes…

The ability to express it all
Eludes me.

I am not unrest;
Merely overcome.

Fragments of me reluctant
To swallow its sweetness…

Intimidated yet enraptured.

Touched from the inside;
Permeated with this bliss.

Unsure if it’s safe to
Abandon reservation.

I smile and taste the salty
Evidence of happiness;

An unfamiliar dish.
But I think I can adapt.

~Sandserene 6/9/2017

Oh what an excursion! (or) How crazy am I?

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Last week, for the first time in a long time, I went on a cycling trip.  No, not a bicycling trip – I am blessed with rapid-cycling bipolar.  I haven’t done much cycling over the last two years.  I have dealt with situational depression and my anxiety disorder was a bear to keep reigned in.  Consequently, I didn’t pick up on it immediately; okay, maybe my BFF had to point it out to me when I was telling her “I don’t know what the hell my problem is, I’m up, I’m down, I’m bursting with energy and optimistic then seconds later I feel as heavy as a brick and buried… blah blah blah.”
Once she said, “Girl… you’re going through your cycles rapidly is all.” it all made perfect sense.  How did I forget what this feels like?  How did I not realize that all the high-stress situations that cropped up one after another with a side of monthly hormones tossed in threw me into a round of good ole bipolar fun?!

At least now I know why I feel like I’m losing my mind and bouncing all over willy-nilly.

The next mission is to make it through this without extensively damaging any of my relationships.

One second I can look at someone and see all the good and feel so grateful and happy to know that person; the very next second I shift and my eyes see things in a completely different manner.  I may flip from feeling like we have this great bond and you get me so well to feeling like you just humor me and probably don’t even like me.  Or maybe where I usually see all the best qualities in someone suddenly any less than appealing quality is amplified to the point that I begin to feel very put off by our interactions.  It’s one extreme to the next and back again and it’s all in my head.

No one else is seeing any of this; they are my own delusions or exaggerations.  I have learned that over the years and as a result of making muck out of the good things in my life because I chose to see these things as reality and not a byproduct of my illness.

So, I fight to keep it all in check.  It’s like having the battle of heaven & hell raging inside my head and it takes a lot of energy for me to keep it restrained there instead of barfing it all over the world and the people in my life.  It is rather physically exhausting – it encourages muscle tension, headaches, irregular breathing (sometimes when I am trying to reign in the battle that is happening in my head I actually forget to breathe – I know it sounds ridiculous, but it happens and the next thing you know I am gasping for air), inability to focus on any one thing for more than a short period of time, and many other tiring affects.
Oh goody, my body is exhausted and my mind won’t shut the fuck up?!  This means that I fall behind on things that I should be using my energy to do… laundry, dishes, enforcing punishment, creative projects, journaling/writing, scheduling/keeping appointments for doctors, etc.  I basically get through in what I deem to be a very half-hazard manner.  But that’s the best I know to do, keep it together the best I can until the cycling slows, then deal with any aftermath (which is hopefully little to none) when it has come to a conclusion.

Oh what fun it is being a responsible bipolar individual.

A Few Snippets (free writing/poetry)

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Sacrifice after sacrifice;
I see not a slowing.
The more they feed,
The more they need.

Taking and taking;
Demand is all they’re bestowing.
The more they take,
The more I break.

Dimmer and Dimmer;
My light is barely glowing.
My well’s run dry,
And I sit asking why?!

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The Voices:

It’s impossible!
Not for me!
Oh my, I just don’t know…
What’s all the racket?
Why make a fuss?
But we must, my dear,
We must.

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Debris raining down,
Wounds on  her face;
Her precious face.
Shaking – cold and frightened,
Onward she goes.
Ice tinged wind,
Cuts right through her.
Frozen tears upon her face;
Her precious face.

~Sandserene
5/23/2017