Alone… forever

I’m much better now. I’m functional. Productive. Rational… most of the time. And all this without medication or therapy.

But I still have what I call bipolar days. Days when I’m either extremely depressed or unbelievably hyper. Days when i want to punch someone or get beaten up or chop off my body parts or cut myself and see the blood ooze or a zillion other similar things. Days when despite the hunger killing me, I can’t walk till my kitchen and rustle up something for myself or order something online.

I’ve learnt to make sure these days don’t affect work, as much as I can. I sometimes fall short. But that’s ok. You need to know how I’ve been for the past few years to truly appreciate how ok that is.

I talk to myself. Smoke sometimes. And try everything to help calm down. For someone recovering from disassociation, it’s not very easy to cognitively talk to yourself with awareness and not let one take over. But I do it.

It’s a struggle. And I barely survive each bipolar day. Interacting with someone else during those days on a personal level is near impossible. I manage on the phone though.

Even if I find someone who understands… i guess I’ll have to always live alone. Forever.

I love staying alone. But the realisation that it’s probably my only chance at living functionally… sucks. Really sucks.

Several things I’ve realised by myself recently. Including my dysfunctional thinking. This is one realisation I know is slightly wrong. Because am sure someone will be able to understand and together we’ll be able to make something work. Yet in my gut it feels like I’m destined to be alone. Here’s wishing that I’m wrong. Here’s wishing that I don’t harm myself on any bipolar day.

 

Enough

I’m tired. I want to give up. I want someone to take care of me. And my role should just be to exist. Survive.

I know this will pass. I’ll feel better again. Soon. But till then… can someone please help me. Please.

I’m on the verge of giving up forever. Help.

Feelings

Its really very weird. I’m not entirely sure if I have any or not. On one hand I feel nothing. Just numb. Nothing can penetrate through this thick opaque layer of numbness that envelops me. On the other hand I feel this intense soul crushing pain. A pain so deep within, so internal and eternal that it stops feeling like pain at all. Its almost like a part of me. It belongs. Stoned with medication or ecstatic momentarily with actual happiness, when I cant feel the pain I panic. Its like a part of me has gone missing. I also panic because I know it will find me eventually, even if I dont go searching. And when it does it will take revenge. Hit me back so hard that it will take a while for me to even…

Hmmm… What am I talking about? This pain that I keep talking about is not pain. Its an amalgamation of all the emotions I have ever felt in my life. No. Of all the emotions I never allowed myself to feel in my entire life. Emotions that arouse within me and were subdued just before they could come gushing out… Like the tear drop that wells up in your eye when you hear something indirectly offensive to you and you wipe it away before it can embarrass you in public. What if all those unshed tears were collected in a reservoir waiting for a day when you could let them out little by little? What if the wait gets too long and then you have no more control over the stability of the dam thats holding it back?

Thats how I’ve been feeling. Anger, hatred, sadness, hurt, irritation, disappointment, loneliness everything that I for years masked with ease now take turns at punching me in the gut. Just to remind me that they are still there, waiting for me to take time out from pleasing the world and deal with them one by one.

But now its too late. They dont want to be dealt with one at a time. They have coagulated and set into this concrete block of pain that lies undigested within me, regurgitating everything from the past and present, resolved and unresolved at every given excuse. The nauseousness they seem to revel at causing is enough to make me want to stuff myself with food to stop myself from throwing up.

I want it all to end. I want this numbness to go so that I can finally start living, feeling, being alive. But I also want to stop feeling all this. The pain, the anguish, the hurt, the hatred, the malevolence, the despicable need to seek revenge… not justice, just revenge. I want it all to stop.

Then what? Feel nothing? Isnt that what I feel anyway? And if that is what I feel then how am I feeling anything? And if I am switching between these two states then isnt that exactly what I say I want. To feel and not to feel. Unlike Hamlet, I dont have to choose. I have both. Kudos to me!

People and presumptions!

Why do people think they can be and do many things? Even when time and again its been proven that they cant? Is it ego? Is it an inflated sense of self? Why do people push buttons if they dont know whether they can deal with the consequences? And if you think you can and later realise you cant, why dont they buck up?

Its stupid to presume that you can deal with the consequences that you cant even fathom. Its stupider to think that some overflowing emotions were the extent of the consequences. Its just stupid to think. Esp when you are being told repeatedly that I myself dont know how I will react.

Its stupid to say that you wont leave when you know you will. And I know that you know. Because you just left.

The silence from within…

Have you seen the cranes that are used in construction? The long necked things with a box on one side where the operator sits and the weight on the other bridged by a long metal structure. The box where the person sits has weights to balance the load being carried. Its a very precise piece of instrument. The weight and position of the box has to be just right to balance the load or else…

Have you ever imagined what would happen if the box was not there or if wasnt placed at exactly the right position for the load that it is lifting? What would happen? What happens when in life there is no box of weights to balance the load that you are carrying day in and day out? What if the load keeps getting changed and the box need to be adjusted ever so lightly but there is no operator? What if…

There are times when I feel I have never had an operator. Life has been good enough to me to balance things out… for so long. But now, I need it. Someone to manage the baggage that I have accumulated since childhood. Someone who understands. Someone who will not question me but just be there. And what happens when I find that someone? I do everything in my capacity to drive them away. And I mean everything. I really dont want them to go. Trust me when I say this. I am not doing this consciously. I want them to say. But I cant help myself either. I want them to stay despite me being like this. I want them to stay because they want to stay. I just want them to stay.

Then why cant I just say that? Esp when they ask me repeatedly. Why? Why does it feel like  am trying to say one thing but doing something completely different? I’m trying. Really. To be different. To stop myself from driving him away.

Has it ever happened that you are trying to say a zillion things at the same time and end up saying absolutely nothing? You are crying, screaming, yelling, begging, pleading from within but no words or emotions or even expressions come out. All that you finally manage to do is smile. Hmmm… Smile. A curve that sets things straight right? Right! A wrongly timed smile can do so much more destruction than all the abuses in the world.

Maybe there is nothing that I want to tell badly enough. Maybe all these thoughts in my head arent important enough and thats why they dont come out. Maybe I am meant to die alone. And silent.

You know? Do you now…

Everyone who knows that am not “well” has told me that its ok. Its no big deal. Its something most people go through. Mine is a bigger deal only because I’m under therapy and the doctors have given it a name.

Really?? Is that it?

So all of you feel turned on if you see someone grope someone else? All of you get this uncontrollable urge to make out with someone only because they are sitting extremely close to you… be it a girl or a boy… or a child or an old person? All of you feel that they have to swallow whatever they see… be it food or garbage or shit? All of you feel like you are covered with mucus because someone near you coughed or sneezed? And that the mucus is now going into your mouth and you are now actually having oral sex? Do all of you look at any random married couple and see potential victims? Victims of what you plan to subject them to? Do you? Do all of you feel so promiscuous randomly in the middle of the day or night that you are compelled to dress deliberately provocatively and go end up with random men? Do all of you feel like stuffing yourself with food so that the nausea you feel constantly goes off? Because face it, as long as food is in your mouth you cant be blowing someone, right? Do all of you feel like cutting yourself all the freaking time? Or jumping off a building just to know how it feels? And almost feeling like you are actually going to do it, all the while you might just be sitting? Do all of you feel all this? Do you?
If you don’t… don’t freaking tell someone who is “unwell” that you know what it feels like or its just a phase, it will pass. Its NOT a phase. It will NOT pass and you def DONT know what it feels like.

So do us all a favour and shut the fuck up!

Hungry kya?

Dying of hunger. Havent eaten a thing since morning. One reason is because there is nothing easy to make at home… Like bread or dosa dough. Another reason is because I’m not able to call and order food or provisions. Tried an online service but took so long that it crossed their delivery time. Cant call or go to the shop. Just sitting and felling worse by the minute. House is a huge mess. Or is it? The maid came and cleaned up. Didnt say a word to her. But then… the house must be clean no? I’m hungry. Mind fucked. Maybe I should just go back to sleep.

Reduced my ani psychotic and bipolar medication to half its previous dosage. That wrecked havoc with my system. Stopped therapy. And now the mood swings have hit. And how! Just want to curl up and die. Found a mood elevator. Panic attack pills. But expired in March. Should I still take it? How much worse can it be for my system?

Confused. Hungry. Tired. Lost… And the scariest of it all… Desperate!

Cast party tonight of a play I was part of. Should I go? Fuck myself up some more.