My Bipolar Moments
I am living with bipolar disorder. I believe it is not a disorder, but a disease or a condition like diabetes or high blood pressure. Both are manageable with medication and a physician's care, but no cure. Same with bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses.
My bipolar is in the well managed area, but I do have my bipolar moments. With medication, I do feel a little high like floating balloons. Other times, I feel that I'm not good enough for anyone, not even good enough for my niece, and for the rest of my family. I tell myself this, there is not one person on Earth that has not felt like that in one moment or another.
Before I was on my medication, life was hell. I had extreme mania. I could not sleep for a week then out of exhaustion collapse in a fretful sleep. One good thing I had accomplished during these manic occurrences was a lot of poetry, short stories, a few articles, and some paintings. All of that made me think that I was god. That nothing could harm me. I could fly and touch the sky.
What I did not understand was what goes up. Must come down.
I crush into the earth shattering into millions of pieces and have problems in getting myself back together. I walk the earth in complete mental darkness. I can not smile nor find a source of happiness. There is no such thing as hope of getting better. I feel totally drained physically, mentally, and spiritually. I feel that everyone, including God, has abandon me. This isn't even the worst.
I start to isolate because when I go out of my apartment I feel everyone's hate. At work, I can not get anything right, so I decide to take a leave of absence. I realize I did not matter. They will be better off without me. In fact, everyone will be better off without me. The sun will still rise, so will the moon. My family and friends will continue living their lives, as if nothing happened. Again, I did not matter. I am done living. I take an overdose of Seroquel. After a long while, I call an ambulance, so they can pick up my dead body and take it to the morgue.
The ambulance attendant come and jump on their stretcher, and they place me in the ambulance. They start to talk to me then I drift off.
I soar toward a light. I am bowing before what I believe is Jesus Christ. He says, "You have work to do. You must help people like yourself. Teach them that there is always hope." He taps me on my head. I feel a like am drifting. I feel like it is a dream.
I wake up. My hands is tied to the guardrails, and I have a tube down my throat. I can not talk.
A nurse comes in, sees that I am awake, says something, but I do not hear her, for I am too busy panicking. A doctor comes, flashes a light in my eyes, and finally removes the tube from my throat.
That was 2008. I had died in my apartment building parking lot. I was on medication at that time, but not at the right does and my bipolar was not being treated at that time. I had crash from not sleeping, for three weeks. This came out during my hospital stay, so Lithium was added to my medication list.
I also found out how my family felt about me. I gave them a piece of paper to write how they would have felt if I would have died. They refused. Not because, they did not want to, but because they could not picture me not being in their lives. That was the last time that I attempted suicide. I will never attempt suicide again.