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I hate men
Blank and empty. I could stare at my wall for hours. I think I’ve stopped eating for good now, I haven’t had any food in three days. Just trying to ride this one out. Been forced to take a nice cocktail of sleeping pills every night (morning).
Did I mention that I hate men? I really do. I would like to meet a man who would not:
a) Rape me
b) Beat me
c) Abuse me in other forms
d) Take advantage of me
e) Abandon me for no apparent reason.
That would be a really nice change.
What the hell is the point of this all? The scars refuse to heal. Every time I dive right into something new, everything happens again. It’s like I’m doomed. And then I have to drag all this “baggage” around which makes me a complete partypooper and no one can be fucked to look twice at me.
What the hell is the point?
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I wrote two days ago:
The amusing part is that I could kill myself tonight, and none of you would know. None of you would care. You’d think I went on vacation or something. It would take a day if not more for my body to be found.
You wouldn’t know, because you can’t be fucked to pause and ask me how I’m doing.
And I was right. Even from my best friends. That’s kinda semi-disturbing. My mom asked me yesterday though how I was doing, and a random stalker girl also asked.
HI RANDOM STALKER GIRL!
I’m doing better today, and I was doing all right yesterday. I think it has something to do with not speaking to people.
Don’t know if I should care or not.
I don’t care if you don’t
And I don’t feel if you don’t
And I don’t want it if you don’t
And I won’t say it if you won’t say it first
tu tu tu tu tu tu tu tu
(The Cure - Let’s go to bed)
Today I left the house. First time in months. I went shopping with my mom, and we stopped by her new job and I met all her co-workers. It hasn’t really dawned on me yet what an accomplishment that was. The last time I went shopping I had an anxiety attack in the store, bad stuff.
To sum this up: I hate you all.
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Howdy.
Just uploaded all my posts here.. because I was told to. I’m 21 years old and from Norway. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder 5 years ago. Howdy doody.
My real Bipolar blog can be seen here and my real blog with hypomanic ramblings can be found here.
My apologies for the crude language.
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Two hours
I’ve been awake for two hours and I already want to go back to bed.
Shit day. Is it over yet? Is tomorrow going to be any different?
Sometimes I wonder how everybody will react when I do kill myself. What will they say? What will they think? Will they have any regrets? Who will come to my funeral? How will they remember me?
I die every day. Then somehow I come back to life, against my will. I’m a zombie, that’s what I am. Braaaains! I want your braaains!
I’m not really suicidal. I don’t actively attempt suicide, because I know it just adds stress to the ones who care about me. I know how to kill myself, I have three fool proof ways all planned out. So if I do choose to give it all up, I know how. I’m currently living my life not wanting to live, but choosing life because I’m somewhat of an optimist; even though I’ve been suicidal for 13 years.
To keep on living when you want to die is just.. painful. I imagine it’s like being on your deathbed when all you want to do is keep on living.
I don’t understand life, and every day I get a new reason to end it all. But for some reason I’m still here. I have a gazillion reasons saying I should kill myself, and only one saying I shouldn’t.
The day that I do die, I hope everybody knows that I lived my life for everybody else; that I lived with a deathwish for 13+ years just because I care too much about everybody around me.
I’m passive suicidal. I don’t care if I die, I don’t care if I live. I wish someone could make that choice for me though, then I wouldn’t have to deal with all the guilt-questions.
Every day I think about killing myself, and I watch everybody else living their lives. My reality is so far from theirs, I don’t know if they could ever pause themselves and just ask me if I’m all right. What would happen to your reality when your friend, daughter, sister, whatever says “No, I’m not all right. I wish I was dead”? Could you care enough to pause your life for a minute?
I’m balancing on a thin line right now. Anything can tip me over the edge. I seem to be unable to push all the nasty thoughts away.
This is me ON medication. Depressed and semi-suicidal. Feeling absolutely worthless. Imagine how I would be without medication. Fuck you hippies.
My other blog is my hypomanic side, this is my depressive side. I hate bothering people with my thoughts (nobody likes serious people with serious problems), so I just vent here instead.
Fucking worthless.
The amusing part is that I could kill myself tonight, and none of you would know. None of you would care. You’d think I went on vacation or something. It would take a day if not more for my body to be found.
You wouldn’t know, because you can’t be fucked to pause and ask me how I’m doing.
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Do you have the time..
.. to listen to me whine about nothing and everything all at once?
I’ve noticed I’ve become really sensitive lately. I’m in a strange state of hypomania mixed with depression. I woke up today and I was fine, but as the day passed I just got more and more depressed, and now I feel like overdosing on pills so that I can go to sleep without those intruding thoughts. I’m also really irritable… yet at the same time I find it hard to give a crap about anything. I go from high to low in a split second, it’s so annoying. I just want it to pass. Can I go back to hypomania now please?
I’ve done NOTHING but watch South Park and Simpsons all day long. I need to keep my mind entertained and occupied. I don’t know what would happen if I didn’t.
I’ve also started abusing drugs and alcohol again. Yay me. I don’t know how that happened, but it did. And honestly, the times I’m not drunk I feel like shit. I wish I could be drunk all the time, but that would be really expensive. If I’m not drunk, I just want the day to pass. I keep looking at the clock, waiting for bedtime. I slept for 17 hours the other day, cos I couldn’t deal with being awake. I don’t know what’s night and day anymore.
I’ve had a sleep disorder for some years, I think it’s connected to BPD. It’s called Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome. It’s harmless, really. It just means that I sleep at different hours than other people. I usually go to bed between 6 am and 10 am, and wake up between 5pm and 8 pm. No matter how hard I try to “reset” myself, I always end up back at square one.
I’ve been getting headaches, which is unusual for me. I never get headaches. So now I think I might have brain cancer.
Not really.
I really hate emos. I despise emos. I want every single emo to die, I do. Jihad on emos! Fatwa on emos! They’re not really human, so it’s OK for me to say these things. Emos just fuck things up for people who actually DO have problems. Being suicidal and cutting yourself used to be a big fucking deal, people would be shocked and appalled, and would pull every string to help you; and now they don’t give a flying fuck, they just call you an “emo” and tell you to stop whining.
So to you fuckwits (not the emos, the ones who call other people emos when they’re not really emo): I wish I could tell you what that does to a suicidal person. When someone doesn’t understand why they should live and they’re turning to YOU for a shred of hope and all you tell them is “stop whining, emo”… final nail in the coffin there. Good fucking job. I hate you all, I hope you fucking die. Assholes.
(This is not an overstatement)
See? There’s my irritability, jeez.
I can count on one hand the amount of people I don’t actually loathe. And the other hand is for people I’m ambivalent about.
An episode of The Simpsons made me cry. That was strange. It was about that country-singer-girl and how her dad left her and how she hates men now. *cough*
God damn it I hate my dad. I hope he dies too. And then I’ll dance on his grave and spit on it. It will be the best day of my life, and I’m really looking forward to it. Awww now I’m all happy. I think I can go to sleep now!
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I wish
I wish that when I go to bed tonight, I’ll never wake up.
I wish someone threatens me at gunpoint so that he can shoot me.
I wish war breaks out and someone drops a bomb on my house.
I wish I accidentally overdose on pills and no one finds me before it’s too late.
I wish my smoking would finally give me lung cancer.
Any form of cancer would do, really.
I wish I could just stop breathing.
I wish I didn’t have to wake up tomorrow. It’s too much.
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Cunt whore slut
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Things we hate hearing
I hate to be exclusive, but there are certain things that non-bipolars just won’t understand; and there are things that we absolutely hate hearing you say.
Never say any of the following:
1. Just smile! Think positive! Happy thoughts!
Fuck you bitch, smiling and thinking positive won’t change a damn thing.
2. Stop wallowing in your misery / You’re so emo / You’re so self-centred
Sigh. Whenever someone says this I feel like bitchslapping them and educating them about this illness. Fucking moronic baboons.
3. This is how I fixed my bipolar, you should try it!
Bipolar is a chronic illness, there is no cure. If you “fixed” it then you never had it. Douche.
4. Oh yeah, I’m bipolar, sometimes I’m totally depressed and sometimes I’m really happy.
No you’re not. You have no fucking clue. You’re a clueless cunt, that’s what you are.
5. But you have nothing to be depressed about!
Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!
6. You need to get out more / Why don’t you go out and party? / You just need to get out and do something for once.
I got out of bed this morning - you will never know how big of an accomplishment that is.
7. Control yourself
This is me controlling myself.
8. Medication isn’t the solution / Of course you would take medicine for cancer, but this isn’t cancer - you’re just sad / You don’t need your medication.
I do need my medication, and most other bipolars rely on their medication as well. My ex fiancé secretly tried to make me stop taking my medication, because HE wanted to be my medication. He was obviously uneducated about the subject, and so was I since I had only had the diagnose for 1-2 years. I did stop taking my medication, and I used him as a placebo. Then we broke up and I tried to kill myself. Looking back.. that was one of the most stupid things he had ever done and I should have kicked him in the balls for it. That’s practically signing a bipolar’s death sentence.
9. (On a bad day) Did you forget your medication today?
This is like that PMS thing, except we’re usually a bit more crazy and we might punch you in the face if you say that. No I did not forget my medication, this is me ON medication. Douche.
10. I know how you feel.
No. You. Fucking. Do. Not.
11. Why are you suicidal? You’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you!
Thanks for making me even more suicidal.
12. You’re kinda crazy
Fuck, I’ll just go kill myself right now.
What non-bipolars will probably never understand:
1. I cannot ever recover. Ever. Take a look at that word, “ever”.
2. I need my medication. I have to take my medication every day for the rest of my life, and they will not make me sane; they will not make me normal; they will not cure me; but they will reduce the level of my moods - and I am 100% dependant on them. Taking them away from me would be a disaster.
3. I might very well kill myself some day, and I like that idea.
4. This is me at my best.
How am I doing today?
Shit. Just shit. Not complete shit, I could be worse, but still pretty fucking shit.
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Percentages
30% of bipolars commit suicide. I’m not sure yet if I’m one of them or one of the remaining 70%.
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Boring facts about Bipolar Disorder
I thought maybe it would be a good idea to write something about bipolar disorder here. I won’t copy&paste something off a site, don’t worry.
I’d also like to say that the reason why this blog is so “empty” is because it’s meant to be more of a journal, and my way of removing some of the misconceptions around bipolar disorder. There are no comments because I don’t need comments on my private thoughts and experiences. It’s just my way of venting and putting it into the ether. Read, get informed, and move on.
What is Bipolar Disorder (BPD)?
(To you nit-pickers: BPD is short for both “Bipolar disorder” AND “Borderline Personality Disorder”. You have a brain, fucking use it. I will not use “BD” or “BP” as short for “Bipolar disorder”, the correct acronym is BPD. If this blog is about Bipolar Disorder, then I’m talking about THAT when I write “BPD”. Logic is awesome.)
BPD is an incurable physiological disorder that affects 2% of the population (but there are many undiagnosed people out there). It’s caused by certain genetic components; as far as we know anyway. Recent studies have also shown that BPD is a result of a chemical imbalance of neurotransmitters (specifically norepinephrine) in our brains.
If one of your parents have BPD I think there’s about a 25-40% chance of you getting it, and if both have it then there’s a 50-70% chance of you getting it.
It’s important to know that this is physical, and not mental. But even though you have the genes, you’re not doomed yet; the genetics behind BPD are triggered by environmental factors.
It’s a tricky disorder, and it’s hard to pinpoint the exact cause because there seems to be so many variations. All we know is that it’s here.
It was known as “Manic depression”, but for some reason they changed it to “bipolar disorder”.
The basics of it is that you switch between being manic (or hypomanic) and depressed. But there’s much more to it.
There are different types of BPD:
Bipolar I
Bipolar I is characterized by manic episodes, with or without depression. They don’t need to have had a depressive episode to be diagnosed.
Symptoms of mania are:
- Increased physical and mental activity and energy
- Heightened mood, exaggerated optimism and self-confidence
- Excessive irritability, aggressive behaviour
- Decreased need for sleep without experiencing fatigue
- Grandiose delusions, inflated sense of self-importance
- Racing speech, racing thoughts, flight of ideas
- Impulsiveness, poor judgement, easily distracted
- Reckless behavior
- In the most severe cases, delusions and hallucinations
It’s when you think you can fly. You become delusional, you think Prince William wants to marry you, you hop on a plane to Las Vegas and gamble away all your money, you jump on cars, you indulge in promiscuous and dangerous activities such as abusing drugs and alcohol, you start projects, you might create a business, you’re on top of the freaking world; you’re larger than life; you’re immortal. It’s usually accompanied by psychosis, and you probably won’t get much sleep. I know some bipolars that have gone weeks without sleep.
Bipolar II
Bipolar II is characterized by hypomanic episodes and at least one major depressive episode. This is my diagnosis. Hypomania isn’t as severe as mania. You don’t go batshit crazy, you might just become very productive and talkative, and as far as I know we usually don’t suffer from psychosis either. I don’t have it anyway.
Symptoms of hypomania are:
- A tendency to overestimate their capabilities.
- They feel inflated self-esteem or grandiosity.
- Increased alcohol consumption.
- They fail to see the obvious risks involved in their ventures
- Making lots of plans.
- Excessive involvement in pleasurable activities.
- Increased interest in uncharacteristic sexual flirting.
- They wish of doing several things at once.
- Decreased need for sleep.
- More sensitive than usual.
- They feel like taking too many responsibilities.
- Increase in goal-directed activity
You might decide to clean your entire house at 3 in the morning, starting projects (and never finishing), spending a heck load of money, promiscuity, excess creativity (f.ex writing a lot.. just take a look at my blog), being very talkative, engage in impulsive and risky activities, etc. You feel slightly larger than life, but not to the point of mania.
Cyclothymia
Hypomanic episodes with mild depression.
Bipolar NOS
Bipolar Disorder Not Otherwise Specified. That’s gotta be shit. If you fit into the pattern of BPD, but not into any of the categories, then you fit into this one.
Depression
I think people need to stop using the word “depressed” when they’re actually just sad.
What is there to write about depression? You stop making sense, all you want to do is kill yourself; not because life is so terrible, but because it’s the only thing that makes any sense. We don’t wallow in self-pity, we don’t look for comfort, we don’t want your help, all we want to do is kill ourselves and it would be nice if you could mind your own business.
Symptoms of depression are:
- Prolonged sadness or unexplained crying spells
- Significant changes in appetite and sleep patterns
- Irritability, anger, worry, agitation, anxiety
- Pessimism, indifference
- Loss of energy, persistent lethargy
- Feelings of guilt, worthlessness
- Inability to concentrate, indecisiveness
- Inability to take pleasure in former interests, social withdrawal
- Unexplained aches and pains
- Recurring thoughts of death or suicide
If you’ve ever read, heard of seen Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams; Marvin is a good representation of how depression manifests itself. I’m not joking. Everybody is against him, he can’t find joy in anything, he thinks those moaning doors mock him, etc.
Zaphod Beeblebrox: There’s a whole new life stretching out in front of you.
Marvin: Oh, not another one.
—
Marvin: Do you want me to sit in a corner and rust or just fall apart where I’m standing?
—
Marvin: Sorry, did I say something wrong? Pardon me for breathing which I never do anyway so I don’t know why I bother to say it oh God I’m so depressed.
There are two things that you should never say to a depressed/suicidal person:
1) There’s always tomorrow, a new sunny day with new opportunities.
2) You’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you!
Or actually, anything that reminds us that we have to live for another day is not a good idea. We have enough trouble getting through today, we don’t want to worry about tomorrow.
We think a bit differently than the rest of you, as I have mentioned. What seems positive to you might seem negative to us, and vice versa.
A depressed person will go weeks without showering/bathing and brushing their teeth, they won’t eat, the won’t go out, they won’t talk, they won’t do anything unless they have to, they will prefer passive activities such as watching TV, they will abuse drugs and alcohol, they will plan their own death.
A suicidal person who is serious about their suicide will plan it carefully, they will clean up their home, put everything in boxes and label it, write a will, write wishes for their funeral/how they want their corpse to be handled, and probably (but not necessarily) write a suicide note. Suicide by depression is rarely done on a whim. I planned my death for six months once, and when push came to shove I chickened out.
Treatment
Medication, medication and more medication; accompanied by therapy. BPD is incurable, the only thing we can do is try to control the swings and make them less severe.
Some popular medications are lithium, lamictal, truxal, seroquel, toperimat and abilify (plus loads more). Some bipolars can manage with a low dose of only one or two, while others take horse-doses of 20 different types. The most one important is the mood stabilizer. Antidepressives alone don’t work on us, in fact they might make us worse. And every bipolar is different, so there is no ONE way to treat BPD. ECT (electro shock) is also a way, but I wouldn’t recommend it.
And there are those hippies that say you can control your disorder by watching what you eat. Ugh. That would be hell. If I’m manic, I can’t have any sugar or burst energy. If I’m depressed I need to eat chocolate until I choke on it. Or I could take a couple pills in the morning and not have to worry about it.
They also claim that the medicine messes with your brain, turns you into a zombie etc. Our brains are already messed up, if the medicine didn’t “mess” with my brain in order to fix it then it would have no use. If a medicine turns you into a zombie; switch. We have a choice. There are so many different types of medications out there.
Symptoms and diagnosis
Symptoms of a bipolar person can be that they act irrational, they go off on whims, they might use a lot of money (and perhaps steal your credit card), they might be promiscuous, they might abuse drugs and alcohol. Then suddenly they don’t do those things anymore. All they do is sit inside and stare at the wall, they become depressed and suicidal, they abuse more drugs and alcohol, no comedian in the world could make them smile etc.
Sounds like a teenager doesn’t it? BPD is one of the hardest disorders to diagnose. It’s wrongly diagnosed as ADHD, schizophrenia, borderline disorder and antisocial personality disorder ALL the time. My diagnoses before I got rightly diagnosed were: winter depression, teenage depression, depression, disassociation, and personality disorder. I tried to kill myself when I was 9 years old, and you tell me it’s “winter depression”? Right-o!
The reason I was diagnosed was because I took about 30 sobril and 20 rohypnol, chased down by some jäger… when I was 16. I passed out on the bathroom floor, and my mom found me some hours later. I was sent to the hospital and then the psychiatric ward. I nearly died that time!
The thing is, it wasn’t a suicide attempt. It was plain, good ol drug abuse. I was given a psychiatrist at the psychiatric ward, and I did my best to try to explain that I didn’t try to kill myself. That, combined with promiscuous behaviour, stealing credit cards, depression and apathy was like a red flag waving, and that’s when he said he thought I had bipolar disorder.
Diagnosing a person at that age is dangerous, because teenagers do act a little nutty. He took a risk, and he was right.
Living with Bipolar Disorder
There are good parts and there are bad parts. I can’t really say what it’s like to be bipolar, because I don’t know what it’s like to not be bipolar. If I asked you what it was like to not be bipolar, would you be able to answer?
The hardest part is that it tends to freak people out. I’ve had my heart broken several times because it scares people. That’s why I’ve decided to be open about it with everybody, so that there aren’t any surprises.
Sometimes I get suicidal, sometimes I spend all my money, sometimes I redecorate my apartment at 3 in the morning; that’s who I am. The people who are close to me know how to deal with my moods.
The worst thing anyone can do to me is fuck off and leave. That’s fuelling the suicidal fire.
There was a guy who claimed to be in love with me, he even wanted to move to my town. I got all suicidal, and then he fucked off because he couldn’t deal with me dying. Well.. here I am. Alive and kicking. I have 10 or so suicide attempts behind me, and about 20 planned suicides. If I really wanted to take my own life, I would’ve been dead a long time ago.
I don’t get suicidal because I want to die, I get suicidal because I don’t understand why I should go on living. There’s a difference there.
The positive sides of bipolar disorder is that I don’t worry about tomorrow, I can get a lot of work done, I’m creative, and I have a very interesting way of thinking.
Hypomania is a lot of fun, as long as you don’t spend all your money or end up overdosing. But what goes up must come down. All bipolars know that, we live with that every day - we know that tomorrow, next week or next month we’ll be trying to kill ourselves.
Life isn’t about living to me. I would love to say that it is, but I can’t. It’s about surviving; one day at a time. I can’t care about the future, if I did I would lose my focus. I focus on today and getting through this day without killing myself or spending all my money.
He learned how to survive.. but not how to live.
(That’s from Seven Beauties by the way)
