I have been having computer issues for a long time and we are just not in a position at the moment to be able to purchase a new laptop for me to be able to do my writing and blog up keep.
I just wanted to take a moment to let everyone know why I have went poof and haven’t been around, yet again.
In the meantime I am interested in hosting a couple of guest blogger posts. If you are interested feel free to email me at email@example.com. The content of the blog post would have to be mental health related and appropriate. It would have to be approved for posting. I will link back to your blog and you can include a brief bio.
Also be sure to leave me a comment letting me know how you all are.
Dealing with some anxiety here tonight, first time I felt like this in quite some time. I was watching something on tv and I guess some of it hit home with some things that I was and have been going through in life.
I just started to feel like I couldn’t swallow and then my heart was fluttering and my whole body started to tingle.
In all honesty I should try to go to sleep since its close on 5 am………
When all the world goes out like the tide, and you feel like you are standing alone watching and waiting for the water to reach you again, to cleanse you. That is the moment when I feel most alone. Knowing the tide will eventually ebb and flow again, but standing there and waiting.
the depression is so bad you feel like you have failed everyone and everything and as much as you want to go to sleep and not wake up you have to keep on breathing.
Such was me a few weeks ago, me before coming off the Zoloft.
The Zoloft that made life worst. The Zoloft that made me feel crazy. The Zoloft that made me want to harm myself. The Zoloft that made me put the breaks on while driving because I thought someone was crossing the road and when I blinked no one was there (among other stories), The Zoloft that made me dream dreams that I thought were real, absolute. The Zoloft that did not mix well with alcohol. The Zoloft that did not let me sleep but yet made me feel like I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. The Zoloft that made me paranoid. The Zoloft that changed me.
Now I am off the Zoloft, and in just a couple of weeks I already feel a ton better, not ‘normal me’ better, but not Zoloft crazy.
Back one one of my old faithful medications, Tegertol.
I cannot believe it has been 2 years since I first started the Bipolar Whispers blog. I started this in a Manic high to let out frustrations to write to my hearts content and to express things I could not even begin to express in my ‘real’ life.
This past year was a lot slower than the first 6 months or so of the blog, but lately I have been trying to get some content out. Thanks to everyone who has been reading for the past two years and thanks to all my new readers.
Be sure to read through my older content, you will find a lot of good information and a lot of soulful and heart felt writings there.
Lets hope that I can get back to the basic reasons for starting this blog and make year 3 fantastic.
Sometimes the despair and destruction and chaos inside is more real than the conversation or situation that I am in. To the point where I forget things because of the devastation that I am going through at that particular time. Such is the story of Friday/Saturday.
I know it was bad, horrible, I know I bared my soul, but I cannot remember most of it.
I am underwater. Looking up I can see a dim filtered light but I am unable to break the surface. I am suffocating, water leaking into my lungs. I am drowning. Sinking deeper and deeper beneath the surface.
I am only just admitting to myself that I am depressed.
It has been coming for a while, maybe it has even been here for a while. But I would not admit that there was a problem. I have been hiding it from everyone, including myself.
I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to go anywhere and I am not sleeping well night time, and am tending to somewhat sleep in the late morning early afternoon, and even then its not good sleep. I do not want to drag myself out of bed when I wake up. Even when I am awake I just want to lay there and not do anything.
I feel like a failure of a mother and wife because I feel that the things my children are going to remember about me right now is the fact that I am doing these things. I should be more present. I feel like a failure of a friend because I don’t give a shit if I go anywhere or do anything, I am letting the people closest to me down and I am so frustrated with myself.
I feel like a failure because I have went the past 9 months without medications and for the most part I was doing well. Don’t get me wrong I am not naive, I know Bipolar disorder does not just disappear, that it would rear its ugly head at some point.
I look in the mirror and I hate the person I see. I curse her. She is nothing…. I am nothing.
I have been blogging here for a year. A whole year.
I started Bipolar Whispers in a manic phase. A time when I was full of possibility. Another grand idea was formed because of mania.
A time when my ability to write came back. Back after years of dealing with horrific writers block.
There were days when I wrote several articles, days when I published more than once. Days when I did not publish at all.
Days when what I was writing made total sense, and days when I wrote in gibberish.
There were days when I was stuck inside my head, days when the words were screaming to be written but I couldn’t form more than a few coherent sentences.
I wrote with passion. I wrote deep truths. I wrote about pasts. I wrote about futures. And I wrote about right now as the words were forming.
I wrote with questions, and I wrote looking for answers.
Sometimes I found the answers, and oftentimes I found many many more questions.
I wrote when I was manic. I wrote when I was hypomanic. I wrote when I was depressed. I wrote when I was flat and I wrote when my mood was ‘normal’.
Sometimes I didn’t write at all. Because whatever I may have been dealing with at that time was bigger. Bigger that I was able to deal with, bigger than I was able to write about, bigger than I was okay with.
But Bipolar Whispers became so much to me. It became a haven. A place to go and not worry about anything to bare it all and let it all out.
I met great friends through blogging. I have read other peoples stories, their life stories and understood. I related to them. I understood them and they understood me.
Even when I disappeared for a bit because the medical issues in our family was more than I was able to deal with, you were all here when I got back. You continued to embrace me and hold me up. You held my hand, and you gripped my heart.
Some of the most understanding people, some of the easiest people to write to, some of the easiest people to relate to have been the blogging friends I have made because of Bipolar Whispers.
And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here, for reading, for listening, and for hanging on.