Bipolar Life- The Journal #10

There are days that breathing feels impossible. There are also days breathing is no longer a chore. I had to fight to take one step forward. I feel everything coming against me, trying to hold me back. I think I have the better footing, finally.

I spent this past weekend in deep thought and deeper prayer. I took a personal inventory of my mental health. Finally coming to an understanding that it was being held captive.

Not any longer.

I worked hard to get where I am today. Satan has tried to use others to lock me away. Over the last several months I clearly saw myself spiraling, one dreadful circumstance after another. Over and over I looked in the mirror and asked, “Who are you? Where are you?” Over and over I heard silence at the other end.

This is depression. Depression no one sees. I started to notice I was simply going through the motions. Apparently, I function well on auto pilot. Maybe this is my mind’s way of providing some sort of protection. If I stopped, I’m not sure I would make it through. So each day over the last however many months, years…I have stepped out of my bed, put on clothes, and prepared for a day. Typically, I most desired the night. It’s in the night I can retreat from everything.

At night time, when everyone is fast asleep, I sat alone. Useless television glaring in the dark, but I didn’t see a thing. My eyes could only focus on the aftermath. My heart could only feel the uneasiness of anxiety. My body would cycle between calm and chaos. My mind, overcome with the worst thoughts, never saw the light of the best.

Everything about this person was wrong. Gone was the unmistakeable joy so many could recognize a mile away. Blown away was the unstoppable hope of a daughter of a King. Squashed to nothing were the dreams. Do they come back when you return?

Only time will tell.

I am returning. Just like every other beautiful soul fighting for their sanity once again- I am returning.

This battle is difficult. For years it seemed I had it figured out. Slowly, the truth revealed itself. I wanted to deny the existence of a truth that hurt me to the core. The one thing I needed more than anything, was to be stronger than those around me. I fear I failed at that, too.

Bipolar depression is a lifetime of a roller coaster you never chose to get on. Just when you think the darn thing is about to come to a full and complete stop, just as you reach down to undo your seatbelt, it jerks you back, and takes off again. You realize every beginning is different. One day it is an immediate climb to a death defying drop. Other times, it is a slow climb with a short stop, then another, and another. Even that ride reveals the death defying drop, eventually.

All you can do is hold on. As you are being tossed from one side to the next, forward and backward, you remember you have the tools for this. In your mind the memories play of a better time, a stronger time. You just have to hang on. You may not know this particular ride, but you know roller coasters. You’ve been on them your entire life.

<unedited, authentic>

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