so.

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ok.

so.

i havent been writing because ive havent been feeling or doing literally anything. so there was nothing to say. i also stopped communicating with all but a handful of people.

but.

now.

ive been avoiding writing this for awhile. i dont know what to say. but we are at the point in the spiral where the talking needs to start happening, and because im no longer in therapy because i am broke as fuck, i guess this is now when the writing needs to start happening.

so.

for several months my mood has been shifting from ‘wow, this is what its like to have normal level emotions?’ to ‘uh. im not sure i like normal level emotions…’ to ‘…wait, do i even have emotions now?’ to ‘no…nope i dont’.

I saw my psychiatrist three or four times during this decline. To recap, in the fall he had upped my mood stabilizers and taken down my wellbutrin (anti anxiety/depression meds), and then sometime in like december? i cut my clonazapram (anxiety)  in half because i wasnt feeling really anything, so i wasnt really feeling anxious and im trying not to build up my tolerance.

so. first visit:

me: im having trouble adjusting to not feeling things like i normally do. like it feels like my world is small and i dont know what to do. its making me feel like i am missing out on my proper existence. i know this doesnt make sense.

him: this is unfortunate but mostly normal. try seeing your therapist. we will keep an eye on it. (only nice).

second visit:

me: i always thought once i stopped being actively suicidal that would mean i gained some sort of will to live? but i dont have one. at all. i cant find a reason to get out of bed. i have no drive or motivation to do anything. im exhausted all the time. i dont feel sad, or chaotic, or out of control though, and im not suicidal, so this isnt anything like what i would call depression.

him: so, sounds like youre depressed, but your mood stabilizers are working. have more wellbutrin.

third visit:

me: nothing changed. im getting less and less interested in being alive and im completely apathetic to everything around me. still dont feel sad, or chaotic or suicidal, so it still doesnt feel like depression like i know depression.

him: ok, youre definitely depressed. its weird that the wellbutrin increase had no effect. lack of drive and motivation are side effects of your mood stabilizers. lets cut 75 mg off your total of those and see if that makes the wellbutrin work.

me now:

I FEEL ALL THE THINGS AND THEY ARE ALL BAD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD EVERYTHING IS AWFUL I CANNOT BREATHE HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK OUTSIDE IS HORRIFYING I CANT TALK TO PEOPLE HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK IM LITERALLY SO ANXIOUS I CANNOT FUNCTION HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK IM REALLY REALLY REALLY UPSET FOR NO REASON HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK

i cant give many concrete examples, because i have legitimately stopped leaving my house unless it is in a car with a family member, and usually only to my parents house or like, grocery shopping (which is its own little form of hell right now). this is the first of three major signs of when my anxiety crashes into my bipolar and i stop being a functioning human. step 1: agoraphobia step 2: intense fear of germs (see: scrubbing down showers for hours with tooth brushes, for example) step 3: extreme anxiety about animal life. things living underground start freaking me the fuck out. nature becomes extremely unsettling. how the universe is constructed becomes extremely unsettling. step 4: some sort of bipolar break down.

on saturday i had people come to my house.  i was supposed to go to brandons house twice during the week but i had to cancel both times because i couldnt leave my house and was super panicky (side note: it really bothers me that there is a ‘k’ in panicky), so i avoided the situation because i could. brandon kinda knows whats up, but not really. so. saturday. third time trying to make plans with brandon. he and sav have this thing where they watch rupauls dragrace together and the new season was starting and he wanted me to join. obviously, we learned leaving the house probably wasnt going to happen so they were going to come here. ok. then robb was going to come too. ok. day of: sleep schedule massively fucked up. already panicking about having people in my house. brandon invites kale too. i like all of these people. these are literally my best friends. i have a hyperventilating panic attack. i call my parents, stay on the phone for like an hour just basically being unable to talk and crying. brandon says they can go to savs if i cant do it. i eventually resolve to do it, 1 mg of clonazparam and 4 mg of ativan later. they come over. i have basically cleaned my whole apartment but i keep apologizing for how dirty it is because literally all i can see is the dirt of things that arent really that dirty (like the dust i missed while sweeping, and shit). it is mostly fine, and mostly a good night. first time watching dragrace, more enjoyable than expected. people leave around midnight, so basically 5 hours of company. they leave and i then start panicking and overanalyzing everything i said all night and whether or not kale hates me now (we have a convo about the trans guy on survivor and i think what i was trying to say came out wrong). fixate on this for several hours. dont sleep.

parents know i cant take the bus to their house for sunday dinner so they come get me. feeling mostly better and able to function around people, which is good because jeffs kids are there. exhausted, pass out at midnight and wake up at 10am. have moments of talking about my bipolar with my mom, which we dont really do. mostly stuff about being really uncertain what symptoms are coming and how everything is factoring in with possibly going to visit joe, and how joe, while family, having no experience with me as a mentally ill person, and how i dont know if thats something im going to do. manage to go to the grocery store on the way home today. mom had to do most of the work, but i was physically present so that is something.

i came home and cooked an actual meal – roasted a chicken and vegetables. ate that. watched an episode of girls.

so here we are.

i need to call my psychiatrist tomorrow and see if he will change my meds, or do something, because things are bad, and they seem like they are about to get a lot worse. im not scheduled to see him for four more weeks. i dont think anyone anticipated this med change throwing this sort of wrench into life. they weird part is, i dont think it actually changed anything, i think it just kind of ripped the plastic wrap off. like the complete numbness that was on the surface went away and all the horrible stuff underneath is now being felt again.

i guess the kind of fucked up part is i find that a bit of a relief.

now the overarching thing im worrying about -besides breathing, sleeping, the outside, people, public transportation, people touching me, the bipolar shitstorm that is coming, my complete lack of financial stability, etc –  is whether or not i should go to joes with my parents in april. its stressing me out a lot.

also, i got an email notification that theyd made a decision on my giant scholarship application but that i cant access the results of that decision until april 1. so thats unsettling. also im supposed to find out if i got in to grad school in a couple weeks. probably while id be in philly. im…. assuming i didnt get in and also very worried about how im going to handle that. i still dont know if ill go if i do get in. but i feel like having something lined up might help? i dont know.

ok. thats all. im starting to panic again.

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Christian.

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This will probably be the last time i write about Christian, because it was probably the last time we’ll ever speak. so here we go.

three days after the ‘day 1’ entry on here christian and i talked. we got back together. he said he was in love with me. we were together for three days. to my understanding we’d come to an agreement where we werent going to see other people for a few weeks to get solid because lord knows we had been anything but solid. he agreed to delete tinder. things were fine. and then he had a date with another girl three days after we got together that was supposedly ‘no big deal’ because the date had been made friday and we’d gotten back together saturday so it ‘didnt count’. he went on that date knowing i was horribly uncomfortable with it, knowing i said it was probably going to break us up. i dont think he thought i’d really do it.

so he went. and they clicked. and he wanted to see her. and i said i wasnt ready to be in a three way relationship. and he chose her. thats basically the sum of it.

we had this fight while my grandmother was dying. i was really in no place to have been making decisions at all but thats how it happened. maybe things would have been different if the time had been different. but i dont think they would have. in the end we had a huge fight and i deleted him off facebook and that was the end. that part probably would have been different.

i emailed him like 5 days later with an apology for how things ended because i was in a very bad state and things did not need to end as horribly as they did. he didnt respond. 5 or so days after that i messaged him and said when i said we were best friends i meant it and i was willing to have whatever fight we needed to have to get back to being friends, even though our romantic life was absolutely, completely, crushed and dead. he said hed like that. that he wanted to be friends. but he didnt want to have the fight. he just wants to wait till we arent mad anymore. we added each other back to facebook.

im not an idiot. i know he’s never going to speak to me again. i know that was code for ‘im waiting until i dont give a shit about you so ill be completely indifferent to talking to you’

its been… i dont even know how long since. a week or two. id be amazed if he actually speaks to me again. i dont even know if i should want to speak to him again because he basically said your love is worthless to me and he was probably lying about it the whole time, again.  he confuses me so much, still. im heartbroken, still. i dont know if ill ever fully recover from how much that hurt and hit every insecurity i ever had.  but i guess its my fault for giving someone so independent what effectively became an ultimatum.

he used to say id have been better off if id never met him, and if he doesnt come back and we dont become friends again, i think he’s probably right.

i cried the entire time i wrote this.

goodbye, christian.

Gma

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My gma died today.

I dont feel like i have the words yet to make an eloquent entry about my grandmother’s and my relationship, but i also feel like i have to document this day, this thing, as it happens.

My dad called me yesterday to tell me they had rushed Gma to the hospital in an ambulance yesterday morning. i was supposed to becoming out for dinner anyway, so he told me to still come out but just to go to the house. Gma never wanted to die in a hospital, so they were going to take her home.  They worried about transporting her here; if she would actually make the trip since she passed out cold whenever they took her off the oxygen.  But she did. She wasnt awake really but shed sometimes be able to nod or shake her head in response to basic questions, like if she was cold.

Jeff came out, Amy arrived on the train, Tegan, Keir and Laurie flew in. Elli came home with my parents.  Johnny and Bonnie and Lindy and Tom and Chris and Steph all came out for varying parts of the night.  Amy, elli, tegan, keir, laurie and i stayed up most of the night in her bedroom watching her breathe and going through her costume jewelry and personal items that she used to keep on her dresser when we were kids. I passed out around 4am but my sister spent most of the night awake with her, and elli slept in her bed with her.

my sister woke me up this morning to tell me keir (who is  my cousin but also a doctor) said she’d hit one of the stages of death with her irregular breathing and that it wasnt necessarily happening right then but that i should go upstairs soon. but she wanted to talk and i could tell so i let her, for awhile we just talked about gma and dying, and whether or not my oldest brother would be flying home.

then my dad came to the door in a panic and told us she was dying right then and we ran up the stairs half dressed in pyjamas and crammed into the tiny once-my-3 year old selfs-bedroom and we held her hand, and each other and watched her die.

my mom cried and hugged us. everyone cried and hugged everyone. through out the whole day everyone had their turns breaking out in tears but i learned that whenever i see my mother cry, i apparently will also start crying.

Elli wanted to do a ritual washing of her body and getting her out of her hospital gown and into her real clothes, to do her hair.  I didnt participate in it but I was really appreciative she did it, as Gma’s body stayed in the bed for hours while they got the death certificate and the funeral homes and everything else worked out that hospitals normally take care of. it was good, to see her all made up back to look like herself without that weird embalming and make up you see at caskets. she just looked like she was laying asleep, only her chest wasnt moving and she was cold. but she also looked dead. not waxy and painted.

i didnt touch her after she was dead and i kind of regret not holding her hand or something but everyone was trying at first and there was always someone in the room and it never seemed like it would be that important. i still dont know if it is, really. i watch my mom in there saying her last words before the body was taken, hours later… like at least 4, maybe 5 hours… it was so surreal to all be hanging out in the house knowing her body was still there, but at the same time it was oddly comforting.

when her body was being taken out of the house and people were crying we made a joke about playing ‘patricia the stripper’.. a song that was some sort of inside joke between gma and my parents/aunts and uncles (her name was patricia).. so we did. her body was being wheeled out under a burgundy velvet cloth and we played patricia the stripper and cry laughed. it was a little garish to some i suppose, but it was us and i think she would have found it funny.

matt and his family flew in tonight and joe is flying in tomorrow. keir and tegan and here until sunday night. so sunday in the early afternoon we are all going to gathering do… something.  she never wanted a funeral, she was the opposite of religious, so theres none of that to do or prepare. shes being cremated but we wont get the ashes back for at least a week or so, so the actual scattering of the ashes probably wont happen until christmas.  I think ive decided im buying a silver vial necklace to put some of her ashes in.  on the off chance i get married or have some major life event i can feel like shes with me.  i think some of the family think thats really weird, but it brings me comfort.

the rest of the day was surprisingly normal. just like a giant family gathering.  kind of like the wake after my dad’s dad died, but more upbeat. maybe that strange too, i dont know.

my grandmother was a great gma, to me and to the rest of the family. i have great memories of her from my entire life, right up until the end. i was always her crib partner and even at the end where she wasnt really making sense she could still count her points in crib. i need it forever noted that the last time we played crib we bet my parents both games and skunked them once. almost entirely because gma was getting all the points.

i told brandon my gma died and asked him to tell people so i didnt have to. and he did, he told everyone. and they all sent really nice text messages to me. i appreciate that.

its good to have close family and friends at times like these.  all my friends keep offering to spend time together but with all my family here i dont want to break off just yet. still, its nice that theyve offered.

i am especially relieved that joe is making the trip.  i know its a bit of a pointless trip for him because shes already died (but, at least he and his family had just visited), and we arent doing the ceremony until christmas or something when people can come back. but its good to grieve together i think? and it felt like he was missing. i think things are finally becoming ok with me mentally about my family now, because it really did just feel like we were incomplete without him home.

i think next week is going to be the hardest, when everyone leaves and theres not constant distractions and theres no one left to talk to. because i talk, even if its not about the thing thats wrong, i talk to process. theres a lot of other life stuff going on that ill probably write about later but this is going to be whats running in the background for awhile.

My Gma’s gone, and I loved her.

 

glowstick

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let me start by saying christian is on vacation so i know he wont read this, which means i am just going to be honest for once.

im seriously considering if i should stop talking to him for awhile. just like a month or two. i still want to be friends. but im both depending on him in ways i dont like and am not proud of, and am also continuously breaking my own heart.

i know the transition was easy for him and i know he wants it to be easy for me but its not. i mean, sometimes its fine, just sometimes its really not. and i cant figure out what causes it.

its like for the past couple weeks ive survived by separating current friendship with christian from past christian anything. and by doing that ive effectively separated christian from any of the feelings he caused. but the feelings are still there and im still having to work through them anyway because he effectively caused my worst nightmare and pulled on all the things i fear most about life and myself and threw them at me, even though he didnt mean to. im in a big ol pit of depression and on some level, he caused it. not that its his fault; im fucked up and have all these weird fucked up insecurities he couldnt have known about. but what he did was pretty fucked up too.

my bipolar is all out of whack. im fine and then im suicidal and then im just sobbing for hours. alone.

ive basically had three thoughts playing continuously on repeat:

  1. dont kill yourself
  2. hes married and he doesnt love you anyway
  3. try harder, you’re failing

i told kale i wasnt doing well so hes taking me to the beach today for something distracting. i love him. i have good friends. supposed to see sam on friday too, but she works two jobs and has company literally always so i dont know if that will actually happen. nicole is in the province and should be coming to visit the city soon, which is exciting. i miss nicole a lot.

christian tried to describe the whole he never loved me thing as an equation where half of it is friendship love and half of it is romantic love and he loves me friendshipwise but the rest was just question marks, like he wasnt sure. i dont think its question marks for him. i think he knows he just doesnt love me and is afraid to just tell me that. or at the very least, we’ve made some sort of decision to be bffs, so the rest is getting thrown out. and i wish he’d just tell me that if that was the end of it. i dunno. i just wish he was better at communicating his actual emotions instead of what he thinks is best for me.

i need to get ready to swim now. hopefully this day with kale snaps something in my head, something to go from light from all the dark. like a glowstick, haha.

im trying.

heavy hearted

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ive been having a lot of trouble with the whole unloveable thing lately. like i recognize that im 30 and these deep rooted feelings are supposed to have gone away by now but they havent and they probably wont. and everyone and everything around me is just like… driving that home lately. nats pretty much exclusively talks about her boyfriend or her illness, usually how awesome her boyfriend is about her illness. kale and donna dont seperate anymore, christian is the christian situation, every show and every book have some stupid love plot. my heart just feels heavy about it.

in other things ive somehow failed to talk about, joe and his family were here for the past week. i had a very bipolar week and the visit had some very rough points for me. i stayed at my parents for 5 days, with everyone else. i skipped a lot of activities and cried in the bathroom a lot. christian had to talk me out of being suicidal one morning. but the visit was good overall i think, i dont think they kids noticed anything was wrong and i played with them enough that i think they have positive memories of me.

the best part of the visit was sibling lunch, which turned into sibling dinner because amy had plans at lunch. every time we are all together the 4 of us go to lunch without any kids or spouses and its nice. this time was better than in florida because i think its pretty obvious im not doing great and this time we didnt all just ignore it and talk about everything as if it were fine. which is progress for me. i did cry at a restaurant though, which isnt awesome. but jeff did offer to let me move into his basement apartment if i really cant pay rent, which is nice of him. and also relieves some stress because i really didnt feel ok moving into my parents house given the situation with my grandmother. theyve got enough burdens, if you know what i mean? not that i dont love my gma. but shes lost her memory entirely (she already forgets joe visited), and she cant go to the washroom by herself so shes not… without burden to my mom. i feel mean saying that.

im not doing so great, overall. i cant tell if its the stress or if im just in a down period or what. ever since that suicidal leg cutting night things havent really recovered. i can mostly hold a conversation fine and i dont think its incredibly noticeable that things arent great though, so thats an improvement. i have trouble at night, and during the day when i have too much time to think. so basically whenever there isnt something actively distracting me like people or grocery shopping or something. sometimes i spiral but mostly i just cry a lot. my heart is heavy, i guess. all of me is heavy. my weight is bothering me more than usual.

i talk to christian about 16 hours a day, off and on. so thats a pretty decent distraction and most of the time it helps keep some of the crying spells at bay. he’s going on vacation next week and i want to be happy for him, or i am happy for him, but im worried how im going to fill all that time with something so i dont spiral out of control. like… i dont know how to talk about it. because christian is great and we are friends and we talk because we are friends. but talking is also distracting and distracting keeps me from sobbing which keeps me from thinking which keeps me from wanting to die. does that make sense? probably not. i think really i just need to a) make more friends and b) get to a place where i dont need constant distraction to not become suicidal. but here we are. im expecting the next 7 days are going to be rough.

maybe more than 7 days.

i have a rash on the inside of one of my arms that i assumed was razor burn but appears to be getting worse not better and it scares me because rashes are a really serious side effect of one of my medications. apparently they can be a symptom of stephen johnsons syndrome or whatever the fuck, which is bad and involves skin “sloughing” off your body.  my mother had it and was in the hospital for weeks. so i need to get that checked out soon. but im afraid because the medicine is working a lot better than any medication ive been on before and i dont want to have to stop taking it.

worry, stress, depress.

 

 

 

 

 

broken and breaking

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i’ve waited too long to write this to do it any justice. i wasnt going to write about it at all – it hurts and it makes it real – but the downward spiral is lasting too long to not note it somehow.

a very very long story made shorter:

The break up:

  • last week, Christian told me he was never in love with me, just loved me, and had been dating me because he thought i ‘needed something special’. he basically wanted to save me from being bipolar by fake-loving it right out of me. like he could fix my brokenness by giving me the gift that was him.
  • i was enraged. i am still sort of. it was not only painful from a break up stand point, it hurt my soul. it was like everything i feared made true.
  • i felt and feel completely broken and unloveable, more so than before, which is an impressive amount.
  • he never really knew me, even when he was physically here, he expected me to be needy and in need of a saviour. he wanted to save me. i do not fucking need saving.

The break down:

  • i spent tuesday night in a tail spin of self destruction. i sliced my leg open with an xacto knife. i spent most of the night in the shower trying not to bleed on things. i was a mess. i almost killed myself.
  • it wasnt about the break up, it was about the feeling like everyone just saw me as broken and fucked up anyway, like none of the work i’d done mattered, like everything was just bull shit and there was nothing i could do to fix peoples perceptions of me, or fix me, or be anything other than just the bipolar girl. like the only reason people would be around is to fix me and be self congratulatory about any of my personal gains. only not any of that. i just felt and feel horrible about myself. just fucking horrible. ive hated myself for a long time but normally it stays as a background thought. its not in the background anymore.
  • i feel like a burden to everyone who knows me.
  • i broke and am breaking.

After:

  • Christian stayed up most of tuesday night with me making me not kill myself. which is ironic because he is both the cause and the thing that stopped me.
  • I guess he finally got to play saviour then, and that probably was good for his ego.
  • We are friends now and I think I’ll eventually trust him again, but it makes me feel really stupid.
  • i’ve barely gotten out of bed in the past week. i went to pride and got fucked up as hell at kale and donnas, spent most of the night talking to sav  and robb about how fucked up i am and how im not making it through the night very well anymore.
  • im not making it through the night anymore. i talk to christian for most of the day, like we always have, like nothings fucking changed, for better or worse. but he sleeps and i do not. or i do but in fits and bursts. i always said id never try to kill myself through pills because it rarely works and usually you just end up with fucked up symptoms because of it instead of dead. but ive counted all the meds i have, which is a lot. i dont know the lethal doses of any of them anymore but i think i’ve got enough of everything to do some serious damage.
  • i havent cut myself since tuesday. that was the first time in 3.5 years so i dont expect i’ll do it again. im not really one for half measures. and the scars hurt.
  • I’m having like dual versions of Christian right now.  i hate one. i hate one so much. but the other is here for me and is a good person and i love him a lot. i cant figure out what to feel about anything. we are acting fine and sometimes we genuinely are fine.
  • i am very good at forgiveness, i’ve had a lot of practice with important people cutting me to the bone. and forgiving them.  and i mostly forgive him. im not over it, but i forgive him.
  • I feel like im letting him off without pain. not that i want to hurt him but i also need him to understand how much he hurt me and i dont know if he does. he’s one of those annoying permanently ok to happy people and i dont know how he feels. or if he feels. about any of this now. i cant tell if he just thinks its over and we survived it. because its not over. it doesnt go away. its a permanent part of who we are now.
  • i broke and am breaking.

reality

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today is a bad day.

christian and i broke up, if you could even call it that. we “defined the relationship” only we defined it into nothing so i guess it just never really existed. i’ve come to the conclusion he says i love you to me like i’d say it to brandon. i do love brandon. i love him a lot in fact. but it isnt quite what i meant when i said it back. add it to the list, i suppose.

i went to the psychiatrist today and bawled in his office over things that dont matter to him at all but i couldnt stop. i cant afford my meds as of next month and i have no idea what to do. he tried to write me three month prescriptions but the insurance company refused to fill them.

so thats terrifying.

and laura is moving out and i cant pay my rent. and everything is just fucking exploding.

and all i can do is cry.

it’s a dont kill myself day

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….

i dont know. i dont know i dont know i dont know.

everything is hard today. i havent slept. christian asked what i was going to do today and literally all i could think was ‘try not to kill myself’ which i didnt really want to say out loud because things are getting better. and they are better. and i dont know why this day is happening.

i dont want to be difficult for him. side pieces are supposed to be fun, not messy and fucked up. im not really cut out for side-piecedom, i guess. im always messy and fucked up. even when im supposedly doing well.

its 9:35 in the morning and today is already this hard.

i feel guilty. like i dont want to not tell him things but i also dont want to be a burden on people and i dont want him to leave. not that he really can because he has plane tickets but i dont want him to want to leave. it makes everyone leave eventually, thats ok, but now is too soon. he wasnt around yesterday and i got through yesterday. i can get through today.

i cant talk to my parents because theyve got way too much shit happening. i think its going to be a brandon day, not that he ever knows what to do with me but hes there and its easy and he wont leave.

i have therapy in a little over three hours. 5 minute increments. breathe in, breathe out.

im worried he doesnt really love me, like its all going to fall apart. i dont know if he could even love me.

i dont know.