Bipolar Diary

The doctor tells me, “Ms. Crayton, you have Bipolar Disorder.”

  In my mind; “okay, I have severe anxiety, depression and now I’m Bipolar, great what next?”

I got medication that made me feel unlike myself, dragging my feet, slurring my words, and being unproductive.  I stopped taking the medication in October of 2009 because I didn’t believe I had bipolar disorder. I thought, “I’m just going through a tough time due to finding out my boyfriend of ten years, and two kids; decided to cheat on me with a female that was twenty years younger than him.”

 

I grabbed my shit, more than eighty percent of the house and tried not to look back “But this man is all I know, no other man is going to love me. I’m having these racing thoughts as I pace my 13×10 bedroom, crying asking myself, “what did I do wrong?” A tight grip on my hair; pulling on it, and then punching myself in my head trying to knock out all the negative thoughts about what I had done. “GOD… please help; I would look up at the ceiling crying asking for an answer.” The answer was, this man never cared nor loved me.

 

I had a hard time accepting the truth. “I’m going crazy.” I thought. I spazzed out, looking like those crazy people in the movies locked in one of those padded rooms.

 

I would go three to five days straight without sleep. My parents became concerned, and I told them just to give me time to heal, and I would be okay.

 

Mother’s Day 2010, I got into a big fight with my little sister and left to go home, and my kids’ father was in my home. I asked what he was doing in my home; he said, “We’re getting back together.” I was so lost, locked my door and took medication to make myself go to sleep forever.

Just as I thought my kids’ father, “that loved me so much,” called a family member to call the police, because I tried to end my life… I remember my family crying and yelling at the same time because he left me there to die. Again, I question myself is this love… who would leave a loved one to die.

As I came to, my uncle came in crying upset telling me he called my kids father and told him to get his ass down to the hospital to check on me; I started to cry and again the thought rushed through my head… just go to sleep, and this will all be over. When you’re in a manic stage, nothing matters; you’re confused, mad, and you hate yourself, because you feel the whole world his weighing you down, and you have no strength to push this weight up, and over you to feel secure again.

This is a piece of a short story I wrote for one of my writing classes.

I hope you like it!

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