Manic Depression

 I know there is a reason for everything, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I remember everything I've done wrong, from a very young age, because i replay them every night while lying in bed. I know there is a reason for the state my life is in now, call it karma, an act of god (Or higher power.) I believe we do pay for everything that we do to hurt others, for every wrong we make. My depression makes a mockery of this weekly. I slip into a depression over one thing, but its never just one thing. It may start as one thing, but as i sit in my depressed state i can make lists of reasons why i'm "down" or why i'm crying.
Whats the first thing a depressant reaches for? A stimulant. A drug, an alcohol, something to numb the pain. How do they validate it? "NO ONE should have to feel this miserable, this isn't what life is about. Why cant i be like everyone else, why cant i be normal?" Numb the pain, numb the brain, numb the thought process, distract yourself, smile. The fact that its temporary does not matter, its the fact that even for a second you do not feel like a burnt pancake in the trash can. You can feel, even momentarily, like your mistakes are okay, like you life has a purpose, like you don't have to cry.
I keep chanting the fact that everything happens for a reason, "if this hadn't happened, you wouldn't be this way, or that way" i say to myself about assorted things. Trying to overcome the issues on going right now, makes me feel regret, sorrow, or pain for my past actions. The actions any other day i can dignify with something, i no longer can validate them, nor dignify them. Depression consumes me, often, and usually i don't take any action to try and relieve it. If i'm depressed sitting alone, i will sit and just keep digging a bigger depressed hole to bury myself into.
It only takes one tiny sound, to create an avalanche. One small pain, can turn into a world of "why am i here, whats the point, my existence is meaningless, i don't want to be here anymore." It progresses, its consumes, just a slow building darkness, that will color your perception by minutes, consume your world in hours. Once i start entering the state of depression i am unable to see anything but bad, wrongs, hurt. I don't want to talk to people, i don't want to tell them how i feel because i don't want them to attempt to talk me out of it; It only makes me feel worse. I don't want to watch a TV show, i don't want to watch a movie (Unless it relates to the beginning cause of my depression.) Any music i hear is just noise unless i can relate a topic to the lyrics. Unless they are feeling what i'm feeling. Which means its not peppy upbeat music, its soft, its painful, and its emotional. If i manage to try and go outside the lines of that, it ends up angry, hard rocking angry music, which just puts me in a different form of depression.
If i try to explain what i'm feeling, or why i'm feeling it, or if i even just let you catch on to what i'm feeling; i feel naked and exposed, I feel embarrassed, i feel like its an uphill battle to even muster up an explanation. I will in fact regret in forming you that i felt anything other than your "normal." I will hide my tears, i will lock it away, i will not try to validate myself, or express myself to you. "Lock down mode" that's what i call it, when i cant even fathom confessing the tiniest thought, because i feel like you know way too much already.
The silence may be deafening, but my thoughts are loud and clear, and my mind will not let me share them. Its not that i'm scared to tell you what i'm feeling, its that i just don't want to explain what hurts, and why. Maybe it will seem trivial to you, maybe it will seem impossible to relate, maybe i will come across as crazy, maybe you will make it seem like its nothing, when obviously it is something very important to me. I don't want to ever be told that what began the depression was nothing, sometimes i may know that, but i cannot be told that by someone else.  I would rather sit silently, knowing you know something is wrong, than to try and explain or confess anything more than i have. I often wonder why i let the words pass my lips; the words that let you catch on to me, and my emotions.
I wonder if it was some deep seeded "want" or "yearning" subconsciously to have you pull me out of this. Then i have to sit and wonder if you're capable of doing so, very few people are. But there has been the rare one or two that have been able to pull me out, no matter how deep i dug myself into this hole. Although in the midst of the depression forming itself, i will let it build to a large degree, almost like i don't want to be taken away from it.it attaches itself, Ironically like an addict to a drug. Then again, your left to question whether most drug addicts suffer from depression. Manic depression, where we seem high functioning and down from time to time. But when we seem "down" its so much more to us. It puts a grey tint to the world, it puts our own minds on lock down where we cannot perceive of anything other than the dreadful burdens we bare; or thoughts we bare.
"Razors pain you; rivers are damp; acids stain you; and drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; nooses give; gas smells awful; you might as well live." - Dorthy Parker There is always a reason to let go, and let the hurt just consume you into submission, but there is always a reason not to. Sometimes one reason out-shadows the next though, it just depends on the person.
I guess what Dorthy Parker forgot to inform her readers about, was a "slow suicide." Where you slowly let things consume you, drugs and (or) alcohol.  When you know your body is damaged from all the pain you're trying to numb, but you cant take that step to make that step to let it all go at this very moment. Maybe out of Thanatophobia (fear of death) or just out of inability to do it now. Its never a bad choice to live, it may hurt, but didn't they say the best things in life are the hardest to come by? "you don't get something for nothing" and all that jazz?
I was a drug addict; Is it possible some of the pain i feel is because i didn't follow the 12 steps. I never did my apologies step, i never got forgiveness for my mistakes. Does that hold me back in a lot situations? That's one question i don't haven't any answers for. Ive done wrongs, and i hurt for those wrongs. Is it apologies or repents that may set me free? Most of the time i am unable to cope to any of my mistakes, or wrong doings. I don't want to talk about them because i know how it makes me look. Is that in itself is vain? Its thinking from other peoples point of view, so it must be. Why should anyone Else's view on my own life matter? I cant answer that, but it does.. I form attachments way too quickly with people, and it tends to just hurt me in the end. Their not formed so easily, but once their formed i cannot let go. That may be my biggest weakness. It doesn't matter how small our relationship was, it meant something to me. I don't mourn, so perhaps that's why i don't get over things. I miss a man i thought i would love forever, i miss a child i thought i could mother, i miss a friend i thought cared. I I hurt from all of those, even though its been enough time, any other person wouldn't even think upon them, but with me, its always there. Why cant i let go, why cant i let hurt go, why cant i forget the bad, why cant i forget the hurt? Why are these the things i constantly remember over and over? I beg my own mind to let them go, i see other people let worse things go, and i cant relieve myself of things of a lower caliber.
This isn't really a conclusion, there really isn't an end.. It's just a bunch of questions and statements, and that's what depression is. Its not able to be defined from our point of view. There is no answer to the questions, there are no solution. It just is. You either have understand it or you don't, simple as that.



Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Foot prints in time

I had a dream that I was raising three birds, two birds were brightly colored large birds. The third was a moulting parrot. Balding, sad, and lonely in the eye. The two Brightly colored beautiful birds left a beautiful pearl white and purple egg. I placed the egg in the cage with the lonely balding parrot, because the other birds wouldn't keep the egg warm. When i returned to the parrot it had chewed its wings off, and one of its legs, and was laying depressed upon the floor of its cage. I tried to help the bird, but it was no use - i then woke up. Plagued by this dream, i kept replaying it all day.

Last week i was planning to write a piece about the psychological damage infertility does on the female Psyche. I realized that this dream symbolized everything i needed to explain. The two birds made an egg, it was given to the lone bird, and it slowly ate away at it.

I was never diagnosed as being barren, which some may find stupid. I never wanted to be told for sure i was unable to conceive a child. I am a dreamer, and i like to dream that one day it will happen. If i am told it never will, i am not sure that would make me stop wanting it. I believe in some way that is the meaning of life. Not only bringing offspring into the world, but leaving a piece of yourself. The child does not have to be from your own body, to be a part of you. If you leave a lasting impression upon someone, you are never truly gone, you live on through them.

The only problem is as a woman, that is hard to swallow. Being barren, feeling that you are not really a woman. Everyone around you changes as they age, they settle down, raise their children, and stabilize. Where as i feel like i am in a downward spiral that i cant pull out of, and refuse to try. I have always felt that something was missing, some big part of me. I feel like my growth as an adult has been stunted. Something seeming so trivial to others, seems so damning to me. There are plenty of women out there, going through the same ordeal, yet i have never felt more alone.

I stumbled into a situation where i was caring for a child for several months. Watching her grow, and learn. I tried to fight any attachment because i didn't want to hurt when it ended, as i knew it would. When you are looking into a baby's eyes, and are aware it relies on you for everything, there is no way to not form an attachment. Beginning to fill that role, succumbing to those feelings. Once it seemed more permanent, as in the fact that dcfs had placed the child with her grandfather and i, and the mother was not in the picture. The role begain to become me, take me over. I realized I was responsible for everything, and I let that family unit feeling wash over me.

       I stand before you a woman, who doesn't always show pain. To be put in that paternal instinct, and then have it taken away, it hurts. Why does it hurt so tremendously, i know i don't have the chance to be that person alone. I am incapable of having children, so when i got close to the baby - and to have her swiftly taken, reminded me I will never feel that way again. And i reflect back on all the ways I wasn't perfect, all the screw ups I made.
 Thinking if i just had one chance to do it again, I would do it differently, i would have been the best I could be. I wasnt perfect,  made my mistakes, what parent (biological or not) dosent? And with out the baby, my life seems meaningless.When i text her grandfather, who has her now, i was told i couldnt see her. The child i raised from 2 months, who will be a year This August. I am sure it may be better i lose contact, but something inside of me wont let me. 

Short back story on the mother, a drug addict. A very good person, when she was sober; Which wasnt often. She loved her kids, when she was home; Again not often. When she left for 7 days (to get baby formula) she could not call and check in on the child i had. She couldn't even bring formula for her starving child, i went and got some on my own. The baby's grandfather and I did everything financially and emotionally for those children. Three Children in all, and i began to think of their grandfather as a father; We all became a family unit. The baby, never went without anything. She was truly loved, and i would give her anything in my power. The biological mother Didn't even want this baby when she was pregnant, she wanted to give her up. I was around this child since she was born, but I was there full time for the baby since she was 2 months old. It may have taken a little bit to adjust to taking care of the two older girls, plus a baby. As much as I wasn't a morning person, I would get up everyday and feed them, cloth them, do hair, help with makeup, and see their beautiful smiles before school. As soon as they would leave the baby would awaken, and that started my day again. Many times I wished I didn't have to stay awake after long nights and deal with it, since they were not my children; but I still wish i had it all again. Just to feel the way i felt then. And to realize i cant have that, ever in my life. I will always be close to the children around me, but they will never be mine. I want a child, one no could take away, that I can have free roam over.

For quite sometime I
This baby that showed me what i was missing, this child that i miss so much its hard to function - She will never remember i was there, she will never remember how much I loved her. Just as I wouldn't have realized what i was really missing with out her. When people say get over it, they don't know what their insinuating. They believe unknowingly that its easy to be taunted by the fact of being a mother and having it taken away, knowing it will never return.

So how does infertility effect women? In so many ways, not just the aforementioned story of myself. Their are many women suffering from being barren, each cope with it differently. Some cope better, or worse than myself. Some aren't bothered, never wanted kids in the first place. Then there are those whom cant even be around children as they are reminded of what their missing. As a woman, learning you cannot contribute to a generation, its demoralizing. As this is a touchy subject for myself, My apologies if this is an rant type piece i will not continue forth..

Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

idolization

Are suicidal thoughts like an addiction? once you think them do they never go away?
i noticed I've had suicidal thoughts for awhile, and even with my fear of death, I once in awhile still have them.
then it leaves me with a feeling of almost withdrawal, like i want to experience it, but I'm holding myself back.
so I seem to almost flash back and forth between a feeling of living with fear of death, and wanting to go there
quicker than planned. so my point is, once that the option has become enough of a thought, that its almost an action,
do those feelings ever end? If a fear of death doesn't prevent me from experiencing this than what would? Therapy? I cant say I agree with therapy 100%.
Thanatophobia is what i suffer from since my last Over Dose. it makes me wonder what it feels like when i pass on,
where the i, that makes me, myself goes. where does my soul go. does it hurt? there are more questions than any
one person has times for, but believe I've given it some time.
But my real question is, once that's in our system as a fall back, does it ever actually leave? or is there?
times get too tough and we think "hey i would just rather be dead than actually deal with this situation?"
Where does it actually stop? or does it? I feel like its almost an addiction, and maybe i seek the situations
that push me so far that I want to just not be 'here' anymore?
Do my behaviors signify that I'm trying to slowly move forward to a premature death? and does my lifestyle seem like
it will drive me to an early grave? and if I realized, without a doubt it did drive me to an early grave, would I stop it? Or continue to live as I do?
do you live it up if you're dying or do you slow it down? What's the point in slowing down if you're going to die anyway?
if I slow it down, am I just making myself miserable in the one life I have to live?
Now I cant actually commit to the thoughts I get once in awhile, but what if one day I am in my weakest and I do?
I mean I've had enough time to devolve a plan. so what if one day is really hard and I decide, its
enough to push me over that edge like it did the last time. A lot has changed since my last attempt, and I feel like
as long as I know the warning signs and I have some type of vent system with friends than I am not going to follow through.
its not even the vent system per say, its the fact that I have to relay the thoughts I am having, and thus realizing maybe
they are more trivial than they seem. As well as getting a reaction to my ideas, never letting on to the other person
that suicide is in the works. Because the last time I did, police were called, and I wont ever make the same mistake twice.
At least not in that retrospect.
Is it me holding myself back, my fear of death, or my own humanity that's holding me back. I say holding me back like i was
going to achieve something great by completing the ideas I sometimes get. Its not often those thoughts come into my
head but when it is i am not me... Not that I am always the same person one day to the next, due to my borderline personality
disorder.
Addiction is something I've dealt with, and its nothing new. So i am feeling like suicidal thoughts are on the same par.
that they come in, just like a trigger, and once they're there, you cannot rid yourself of them. they will be there,
and they will haunt you until you complete their task. Until you use.. but just as they teach you in AA you have to know
your triggers, and adjust your life and actions accordingly. You have to take things one day at a time..




Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com