An Explanation
June 27, 2015, 7:17 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

It’s been a long year so far, as I have written about, but the bottom really fell out during these last few months.

My depression was getting out of control. I was becoming antisocial. I was calling out of work. I was not getting out of bed.

Everyone around me was doing all that they could, I think. At the time it felt like it. Which made things even worse, if you can understand. I was pulling in all of my resources and, still, nothing was happening. I felt like a zombie. I felt like I was out of control. I imagined that this was probably what drug addicts felt like when they hit rock bottom as well. What was I addicted to? Nothingness. I was the effing Queen of Nothingness. I  could not grasp any future for me. Everything seemed hopeless.

I became suicidal.

That’s all I am comfortable saying about that.

I was a second away from going back to that damn psychiatric hospital. I knew what would happen there. I knew nothing good would happen there and I would emerge worse or the same. Lesser of two evils.

Talk therapy, for the millionth time, was not working. I am 100% sure I am the problem with this method so I don’t blame any of these psychologists for trying. Don’t worry.

I was at rock bottom.

Finally, on a four day long bed bender, my psychiatrist doubled my Lithium and changed my antidepressant regime up. Two days later I started to feel the fog lifting. I thought I had finally lost my mind. But I felt a little better.

The week that followed I entered a manic state, which I welcomed with open arms. I was full of energy, I was social at work, I was something that felt like happy.

I was able to be a mother; an effective mother.

The mania lasted a few days and then evened out but I still felt better.

This was a few weeks ago.

I still feel unstable at times–this weekend, for example, I feel depressed–but nothing to the extent of what I was before.

I have bizarre and unpleasant side effects from the Lithium, the worst being insomnia. Not sleeping a full night’s sleep for about a month will affect anyone’s mood so I am constantly on guard for that forcing me into a depression or into bed.

I do that a lot. I constantly check myself. How am I feeling? Have I eaten enough? Am I drinking enough water?

I am in recovery. Like any addict.

I put off writing this entry for so long because it’s so personal.

But I finally decided to write something in the small chance that someone else out there is going through this hell.

People tend to find out someone has a mental or emotional disorder and then back away slowly.

My name is Carrie.

I have Bipolar disorder and anxiety.

I have a daughter. I have a job. I pay my bills and do my laundry.

I am not a threat to you or society.

And I deserve a facility that will help me get better when I get help.

I fought going to the hospital because I knew how bad it was there. I knew that I wouldn’t even get the help I needed and that I would be treated like a criminal. I didn’t want to go.

I didn’t


to go.

How many people don’t go to get help because of this reason? How many people actually hurt themselves because of this reason?

It’s not right.

Hopefully someday there will be places for people to go and feel safe, welcome, and understood. I don’t see that happening any time soon, though.

Until then, I will continue to recover, surrounded by people who make me feel safe, welcome, and understood.

Because that’s all we can do for ourselves.