Thursday, June 6, 2013
Dead Girls Don't Cry
My stupid shit-ass brain. That's who.
The one thing I'm fighting for is also my biggest opposition.
I'm still sitting here in complete disbelief that this is my reality. Pretty girl, lots of dedication, pretty good genes, likes to workout, healthy, above average intelligence, funny, witty, adventurous, outgoing, empathetic, caring, artistic, lost of love and support, great smile, among other things. And I have a chemical imbalance so bad that I can't call in my meds. I have 1000 things going for me except my mental competence. I did though. I had to dig my teeth into my tongue until it bled to force myself to. Luckily their pharmacy has an automated refill line. Automated services are depression's/anxiety's best friend.
I made a step yesterday I should have made a long time ago- I got evaluated and set up with a proper therapy group and psychologist in order to get my meds straightened out. I didn't get to see a Dr but I got everything set up to see the proper set of medical professionals for future management of this mental bullshit. I knew this was what I should have been doing a couple months ago. I just seemed incapable despite my desperate need and desire to get better.
Self preservation- the parasite fights for it's own survival.
I went to a psychiatric emergency room on Tuesday. I'm not out of control as in danger to myself or others but I'm out of control in that my moods and thoughts haven't been right in a while. As of Monday I realized that but now I'm playing catch up again and realizing even more how very little I understand about myself and this disorder. Every question answered brings 100 more uncertainties. I'm sitting here in my head knowing everything is wrong but I really don't know what "right" is.
I thought I knew. I thought I knew what right was in my world but now I know even more that I can't label anything I do as right or appropriate because I literally have no idea what that means. I got out of control again because of my warped perception of what it "right." I needed much more help than I was receiving and giving myself.
I have been use to existing at such a high level of difficulty that I didn't realize a subdued version of bipolar existence was still incorrect. I identified that as a correct emotional state because everything seemed better to me. I was wrong. I cannot make these judgments. I have to realize that I cannot understand these concepts- I have no point of reference.
I cannot trust myself to call and get the meds I need. I cannot trust that same person to deem what is right and wrong. I have no true allies except an emotionless army of medical professionals.
That very realization makes me understand I'm not fooling myself anymore- I'm down but I'm still winning. I need something far removed from my daily life and completely detached from who I am emotionally. I need a completely uninvested point of view. I felt that yesterday. I felt I'm about to get what I need- all the help in the world. For the first time in a long time I didn't feel lonely.
This morning I don't feel good. I don't even feel human. But I can hold on to what I felt yesterday. It's a reminder that I'm doing right. I don't need to feel good right now- I need to feel motivated to keep moving. I can't trust any emotions I have currently- I might never be able to again and that's something I have to face. I don't know what "healthy" and "manageable" are going to entail and I have to accept that fact. I may not be able to ever have a successful long term relationship, I may never be able to have any close interpersonal relationships, I may never be able to do anything I currently think I want. I cannot trust my perception of life. Success might mean something I can't understand at this point. There is only one certainty in my emotionally volatile existence- I was to be successful. That's what I want but I have to have a team of professionals help me define what that means in my world.
I'm not lonely but I'm very sad.
Thank you for reading