Day 41

I'm trapped in the darkness . . . lost in the shadows . . . I can see the light - I think - I just can't get to it. Instead, I'm left feeling my way, stumbling around blindly, hoping, praying, for a way out. The darkness is all consuming though, and even though I'm doing everything right, it has a strangle hold on me. And that little pin prick of light I see . . . it falters.

In case you haven't guessed it, I would appear to be in full blown depression again. It's been coming, slowly, over the past few weeks, and now its here, pressing, smothering, and all consuming. And it's not just that I feel "sad" or "down". Oh no. I feel as though life is no longer worth living. I want to kill myself and I have a plan. I feel hopeless and worthless and lost and empty and like I'm a burden on everyone around me. I don't feel joy or happiness - I try, I really fucking try - but I just . . . don't.

The frustrating part is that Im doing everything I should be doing. I take my meds, I go to therapy, I go to ECT, I still go to work, go to karate, interact with my friends, I don't isolate (even though I desperately want to), and I do everything CBT and DBT that I know how to do. I don't know what more to do. I feel like a failure. I feel like I'm letting people down, docs included (and then I counter those negative thoughts with things like, but you're not a failure, look how far you've come, you're strong and stubborn and you can do this!). And I don't see any trigger to this current depression. Nothing.

It's exhausting being me right now. My mind is a whirlwind of negative thoughts, a third to half of them suicidal. I feel as though I'm drowning in my thoughts, caught just below the surface, scrambling desperately to get my head above water but never quite making it. I try to ignore the thoughts, push them away. Or I acknowledge them, counter them, and move on. Or I discount them. Or, or, or . . . I'm in a constant argument with my own mind and that is fucking exhausting. You never know, until you have to do it yourself. Something good may happen - let's say my son makes me laugh - and I think yay! Something good! Oh really? my mind counters. You realize this won't last, don't you? You're still depressed. Your life still isn't worth living. You're always going to be like this. I stare off into space a minute, my mood dropping from my little break, as I scramble to counter what just flew threw my head. That's not true, I tell it. My husband and son make my life worth living. My friends, my job, my family . . . hell, my damn dog makes my life worth living. I think of good times, picture them in my head. Sometimes I write a gratitude list. Yeah. You keep telling yourself that.

I tell myself that it's just the depression talking, just the bipolar. That's not me. That's not how I am. And it's not. When I'm stable, when I'm not depressed, I don't have thoughts like that. I don't really even think about being bipolar. I feel so fucking different when I'm not depressed. That's how I know it's just the depression . . . but knowing that and telling myself that doesn't make it any easier to counter the negative thoughts, because, honestly, they're so fucking convincing.

One thing that scares me . . . I had a psychiatric PA I was seeing (before my current doc) tell me, "You're just going to be depressed and suicidal for the rest of your life and you need to learn how to deal with it." Number one, what the actual fuck, and number two, what the actual fuck?! That's not something you tell you're depressed, suicidal patient. But then, it makes me think: we can't seem to get my depression under control. If we do, it's for a very short period before it comes back. So what if there's some truth to that? But see, I can't think about it because that leads to a cascade of negative, suicidal thoughts. But it scares the ever living shit out of me. Because fuck man, what if that's true?

I don't ever bring that up in therapy or to my current doc because I'm worried they'll agree with it. I'm also worried that I've failed them, let them down, because I can't seem to fucking stay stable. I'm worried that they'll drop me as a patient, wash their hands of me, because I can't stay well.

I think I'm still struggling with what it truly means for me to be bipolar. I mean, maybe I get 12 days stable, then 20 or so with some mild depression and anger, and then I get the complete shit show for 2 or 3 weeks before going back to relatively stable. Maybe that's how bipolar works for me. Maybe a long period of stability just isn't in the cards for me. Which fuck, wouldn't that suck? Because when I'm low, I'm fucking low. I mean, I'm suicidal, I'm cutting, I'm withdrawn, I don't want to do things (though I force myself to), I'm no fun to be around, I'm a raging bitch . . . It's no way to live. 

But that's negative thinking. Counter that shit.

Butterflies and sparrows and little bunnies . . .