When Bipolar Sucks

Looking out into the rain and over the pools of water forming in the parking lot I try to claw myself out of the gray mass that’s slowly surrounding my brain.

“I’m good.” I tell myself, over and over.

Remember at Christmas when you had no energy? When you couldn’t get up to do anything? When you just wanted to sleep?

Remember how low you sunk into the couch, leaving your family to pick up around you while you shut off and let go, contemplating sleeping for the rest of your life?

Feeling nothing, really. Like cardboard. Brown and flat with nothing to give.

And now you have energy! You’re BACK, baby! You’re a cleaning machine. With thoughts flowing, head pounding, anxiety surging through your body.

Dinner’s are made, floors are swept, bathroom is sparkling, and the laundry is folded.

But it always comes with a price.

One that leaves your body tingling with too much stimulation creating a mounting aggression and irritation that explodes if not caught in time. Lights are too bright, sounds are too loud, clothes are too rough, and your skin doesn’t seem to fit right.

But it’s still manageable.


You got this.

This is just the roller coaster of bipolar and it’s okay, right?


The clouds will pass and the sun will come out. There will be a happy medium again where you will find the balance you crave. The one you dream about while you rest your head on your hands wondering how in the hell you’re going to survive another day.

But you still don’t reach out. Because you got this. You know this ride.

And then your focus turns to death.

The sweet escape. Because why the hell are we even here? Why do we go through this ride when it’s all just going to end?

That’s when you remember you aren’t going to ever get off the roller coaster.

This is a ride that never ends for you and you need to reach out.

A hard pill to swallow when all anyone really wants is to say they’re better. They’re cured.

I’m not.

And that sucks.

That really sucks.





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2 Responses to When Bipolar Sucks
  1. Kimberly
    March 31, 2016 | 12:31 pm

    One day at a time.
    You’re doc will help you figure it out and you’ll get back on track. The highs will eventually level out again.
    The evil thing with this illness is that it fools you into thinking that you have a grip on it when things get a little bit too good and a little too good and a little too too too too — you have to stop it when it’s “too”. Actually the crap part is learning to recognize when it’s “too”. I’m still learning. I’m still trying to give up the highs and say “no”. It never ever ends well. Remember the owl? LMAO!
    Evil…evil…evil illness.
    You’ll feel better once the doc calls and gets a plan going.

  2. Carrie Baughcum
    April 7, 2016 | 12:16 pm

    You are so incredibly reflective. So incredibly in tune with your body and emotions. You share your story in such an amazing, honest and vulnerable way and while (honestly) this post scares me and brings me great worry I know that you are a fierce fighter. I also know have a great support system and have always been good at using those people, your tools and your resources to get through these moments.

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