Bipolar is A Thief

Do you ever feel like Bipolar Disorder or any other mental health problem has stolen from you? I do. All the time. When I have too much time alone to think. It’s always worse then. It’s at that time my brain wants to play a game of Would’ve, Should’ve, and Could’ve. It also wants to play the Memory Game. This is like a movie playing in my head of everything bad thing that has ever been said or done to me. I dislike this one the most. Some days I can stop and some days I can’t. There are days I question everything about myself and the people around me.

If I wasn’t Bipolar would I have ever started drinking? Would it have gotten as bad as it did? Would I have made the decisions I made?

I’m told that I blame being Bipolar but really it’s me. I chose to drink. I chose to hang around bad people. I let those same people use and abuse me. I chose not to go to college. I chose to be alone. I chose not to have children. Some of this is kind of true and some of it isn’t.

I never learned how to interact with society as a sober adult who fears people. The interactions that I did have sober were always negative for me. I always felt like an intruder. I would stand in a corner at any social gatherings by myself and wait until it was time to go home. My sister’s wedding was hell for me.

Bipolar stole so much time. Time I should’ve been with my mom. It stole kindness and sympathy. When I was manic and trying to take care of her, work and drink, I would become irritable. I directed that at my mom. She didn’t want to live anymore and I could see it. I just didn’t want to deal with it. So I got worse.

The relationships I’ve ruined, the people I’ve hurt, and even now the annoyed looks I get all bother me. I’m told that I over think things and that people are not even paying attention to me. WRONG. I know when someone is talking about me, or rolling their eyes when they see me coming. I’m not “crazy” when it comes to that.

That brings me to another issue. My sister thinks it’s ok to call me “crazy” or “nuts”. So last time she did I told her she better remember I have written proof that I am. It’s like a “get out of jail free card”. She didn’t think that was funny. I didn’t think it was funny that she was calling me names.

Since my mom died and I quit drinking I no longer participate in life. I did for awhile after having a round of ECT. I went to Florida alone. I went to zoos alone. I went to places that interested me. It lasted for 6 months.

I’m not sure I care anymore. I’ve become my mother. We didn’t listen to her, we walked away while she was talking, we forgot about her. Maybe this is my punishment. If it is I accept it.

About darie73

I have lived with Bipolar Disorder since my early teens. I have lived with Social Anxiety Disorder for even longer. I self-medicated with alcohol for over 20 years, that's how long it took to get a diagnosis. I'm open and honest about my mental health so hopefully one day the system will change. View all posts by darie73

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