It’s World Bipolar Day.
I have to say I’m almost back to where I started from.
I’m still Above Ground but not for lack of trying. While drinking I tried to kill myself 5 times. The only reason I did not succeed was because I was too drunk.
Things change for you when you actually die and it isn’t your choice. It scares the shit out of you and you view things differently. For awhile anyway.
When you start to notice that the people you love were not impacted by you being in the ICU and being resuscitated you start to give up again.
I’m back to feeling invisible. The stuttering is bad. I watch my Dad’s face as I try to talk. I see anger and frustration so I stop talking. I am not allowed to cry anymore. If he sees or hears me crying I will be yelled at.
I had saved money to try living on my own for 6 months to a year. When I told my Dad all of a sudden he said he was broke and needed more money from me. I gave it to him. This is on top of the bills I pay. Now I don’t have the money to leave. He never talks to me but doesn’t want me to leave. He’s told me things lately that have been so hurtful I can only hide in my room.
My twin sister doesn’t care what’s going on she just shuts her phone off. I have no one to talk to except myself and the dogs.
I haven’t rescheduled my stent surgery like I was supposed to. Part of me doesn’t care. There’s pain on both sides of my back, my pelvis, my head hurts more than anything and I keep falling down. I can’t eat. I don’t care.
No one talks to me. I don’t matter to anyone in my family or my one friend. Why should I bother? Is it worth it to be this alone, filled with anxiety and grief? I’m not sure anymore.