How Do You Escape From Your Own Brain?

When I say I’m normal. That I’m fine and don’t need meds. That I should start to wean off or go cold turkey because I’ve been on this ride for so long it’s old to me and I’m no longer experiencing the thrill.

That’s when my brain reminds me that I still suffer.

That’s when my head becomes foggy, my eyes start to swim behind my eye lids as though I’m a fish in a bowl, and I beg for an escape from my own brain.

How do you escape from your own brain?

You don’t.

Sounds irritate me.

Touch makes me want to throw up.

Every. Little. Thing. Makes me lose control.

Smells, sights, disorganization, people, cars, food.

My senses leap from my body and I am acutely aware of everything.

I separate myself from others in order to lessen the blows of my outbursts, most of them insulting, and go to places I find peaceful. But the sensory overload is electrifying.

Ants on the ground seem 5 inches tall and I see them crawl towards my body. I see them part the grass and carry food.

Are they in my clothes?

My shirt starts to feel uncomfortable and I can feel my skin. It doesn’t sit right.

But, you can’t take your skin off.

No, I can’t.

The traffic around me tears through my ears and into my brain and the sounds of ignitions starting, brakes engaging, and sirens makes me shut my eyes in pain.

Physical pain.

My heart pounds with increased anxiety.

There’s a lump in my throat that has lasted for days and only increases.

But being in silence is worse.

That’s my brains playground.

Where it can remind me of failed attempts to get better, reasons I never will, why I will always be labelled bi-polar, and the hundreds of times I’ve let this illness dictate my behaviour.

Being alone and in the quiet allows my head to relive poor decisions, sadness, and what ifs.

And there are so many tears.

I prefer the alternative.

The cycle for someone, like me, who struggles with a mental illness is exhausting.

Just when you think you are better you are reminded in the cruelest of ways that you are not.

That this is permanent.

I was given a broken brain and would trade any day for a normal one.

Remember this, friends, when you read of a suicide, of someone going into a hospital, of someone doing something drastic due to mental illness.

Remember the internal suffering that no one can ever fully understand…

Unless you are living this nightmare yourself.

And if you are?

I get it.

I’m in it too.

Surrounded by a hell I can’t escape and in a permanent Groundhog Day for the rest of my life.

But, we are in it together.

I won’t let you fight alone.

You. Are. Never. Alone.

 

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