It’s like coming out of smoke…

I can feel depressive episodes settling in and despite any cerebral approach(es), coping mechanisms, positive thinking, medication compliance, therapy, writing, or refusal,  it’s happening. It’s rolling in. One minute I’m waving it away…pushing it back, living my life and keeping it at bay…the next, I’m caught in thick, grey smoke, choking on the burn. I know the way out…I just can’t can’t get there.

This weekends episode was a mix of triggers and various things building, which is just how life works. Things happen. I manage what I can the best way I can but I certainly do not live in a protective bubble. (I used to wish I lived in a snow globe as a child.)  It was one of those episodes where I felt disconnected, yet simultaneously devastated, exhausted and extremely aggravated.I have a spinal issue that sometimes causes me to get stuck, quite literally, in bed. Friday morning it happened and I went quickly downhill from there. Extreme pain and immobility with everything it brings, is maddening. MADDENING!

Without all the boring details, by Friday evening, I didn’t want to even be conscious or alive. I was completely checked out, plagued with broken sleep all day and night. Saturday, I also slept. My sleep is usually broken and I have vivid nightmares on a regular basis. Friday and Saturday were no exception… it’s like living in a world of half awake sadness and terror, whether asleep or awake. I was mobile enough to do a bit by Saturday evening but found myself stuck, choking in smoke. I responded to a few texts and e-mails but forget social interaction. I shuffled slowly from room to room looking around, overwhelmed at the thought of doing anything at all. I cried while making my bed and screamed at no one in particular “I NEED A FUCKING BREAK. PLEASE. I JUST NEED A FUCKING BREAK.” I did a bit of freelance work on my laptop, then spoke to my girlfriend on the phone for about an hour, crying, while dissecting it all.  Later I laid in bed listening to music, crying deep soul cries, wondering how many other 30 something women still do this before they go to sleep…At times, it all feels so very misunderstood, angsty teen and I want to shake myself out of it, shake myself for crying and shake myself for being so weak. The night, as usual, held broken sleep with vivid, disturbing dreams.

Sunday is foggy, smokey, hungover without the alcohol and flat. I am tired. My spine still hurts but nothing like Friday. I cannot make myself go out and take care of errands. I feel weighted, sick, flat, and like my thoughts are coming through smoke. Not quite clear…but clearing. I have to pull it together, shake it off and pick up my life again tomorrow.

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7 responses to “It’s like coming out of smoke…

  1. I’m a thirty something and I often weep, weep at the past weep at the present weep at the future of bipolar ahead of me. It’s a good way to let it out, even though afterwards I often feel numb and exhausted, it’s still letting some of it out. If you’re struggling this much then you’re not on the right mix of meds, and finding the right mix of meds is an uphill battle in itself, it took my psych doc and i 9 months of trying different things and different mixes of things before i got any kind of mood stability, any kind of human presence back in my life. And exercise, i hate to be a rung bell but when i don’t do exercise i find myself shuffling around the house aimlessly feeling sorrowful.

    • Mckarlie, thank you for sharing your own experiences, truly. Crying is and can be a good way to purge… Logically I know this… I think somehow it helps knowing I’m not the only 30 something that sometimes does this. I detest it when I cry however. I abhor it and feel like I should shake it off, as stated in my original posting.

      I have been on various combinations of medications since I was about 20 years old, and it took years to find a combination that allowed me to be functional professionally as well as personally. God how the first few years of trying various cocktails sucked. I felt like a zombified version of myself on so many of them and it’s like there are holes in my memory for much of that time. The combination I am on right now is actually a good cocktail…as good as any of them have ever been anyway. It’s a very difficult balance to maintain full functionality vs being over medicated. As I’m sure you’re aware, there are always side affects involved to factor into the equation as well. Depending on the severity of the BPD, some will have better experiences than others. Some, will have to accept “as good as it gets” and work hard to keep the bad days at bay. As we all know, those pills don’t fix it… They make it survivable.

      I know the endorphins released from exercise are a great thing to incoorporate into treatment plans as well. This is something I do when I am physically able. Unfortunately I have a complex set of physical issues with my spine, neck and knees that often limit that. Part of this particular weekend, just physically getting out of bed wasn’t something my spine would allow. Not my best weekend, for sure.

  2. I used to hate crying, I think it’s because my mother used to do it so much and I have very negative feelings about my mother.

    Even on the right meds I still have my days where I just want to disappear or take a class a drug and disappear into obscurity from it, it’s something that never goes away entirely but these meds have me as the best version of me I can be, and it’s still a bipolar me.

    I have arthritis in my spine and hips so I understand how pain can prevent exercise, I’ve had to cut back on the length of my walks lately as my condition is much worse in the cold and I have tears literally streaming down my face as I walk sometimes it hurts that much, but I push myself as much as I can because I figure physical pain is brief, it’s mental pain that will get me 🙂

    • Mckarlie, I’m pretty sure my issues with crying are tightly tangled in with trying to be “strong” as well as complex issues with my father. Oddly enough, I don’t think anyone else “weak” when they cry… Only myself. Strange how these thing leave such a bad taste in our mouth as adults, even when we can rationalize where it comes from.

      I can relate to every word in your second paragraph, and like how you refer to it as “the best version of me I can be and it’s still a bipolar me.”

      Arthritis in cold weather especially can be brutal. Your ability to push through your physical pain and keep your perspective is commendable. Truly.

      • Yeah I saw my Mother as weak and hated that in myself, didn’t want to be weak didn’t want to cry. Now I do it necessary, sometimes it just happens, I try not to fight it anymore.

        Ah it takes all I have in me to push through the physical pain, and sometimes I just can’t do it, but I try my best, getting fresh air and walking a few laps of the lake is what I do, it makes a great difference. I hope things settle for you soon and you find a good balance 🙂

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