And then I came to the end. Again.

I’m finding it really had to blog right now. I’m tired, and my brain feels slow and stupid. Out of the blue, after three weeks of relative normality, I got captured and put in the cupboard again. It’s only been going on a week, but that week’s been a bad one. I spent Wednesday and Thursday crying and having nightmares and thoughts of harming myself. I cancelled the week’s activities, even though I’d been really looking forward to them, because I could not see how I could be around people. On Friday, I went for a walk in the park, hoping that the sunshine and a little exercise would be good for me. Instead, I was filled with despair and loneliness. All I could think was: this is my life now. This is it. Taking the meds and doing the things I am advised to do, but still going in and out of short depressions and hypomanias without any warning at all. Committing to a cup of coffee with a friend is becoming difficult, let alone anything long term, like a return to work, Christmas plans, or a holiday. I fear the possibility of never being stable again and being forever subject to the baffling vacillations of my bipolar, and right there in the park, I knew that I couldn’t bear it. And so it came to me with horrible clarity that I could not go on.

Obviously I did. This is no small part thanks to the dear friend that I contacted, who entered into a text conversation with me, exploring what I was feeling and what I was going to do next. I picked someone who I was pretty sure would understand, and who wouldn’t freak out and do anything like call the police to say that I was suicidal in a park somewhere. I also chose a person who lives a really long way away, so she wouldn’t feel under any obligation and come and find me. After a little while, I managed to leave my bench and get on public transport to do the school run (wearing massive sunglasses to hide the continual weeping).

I’ve been there before, of course. The feeling of not being able to bear life, of ending it being an absolute necessity, rather than an option – sadly, that’s nothing new. In the past, however, it’s always arisen because I am in a lengthy depressive episode that has come to feel unbearable.  What seems intolerable now is the unpredictability of the mood changes, and the possibility that I might never be able to return to work and could be at home alone, all day, forever.

Each day since Friday has been a little better. Yesterday I even managed to enjoy myself, when I met the photographer again and we played around with costumes and lighting for the photo-shoot. I’m sure I’m probably on my way out of the low; by today, there is only minimal crying, some unexplained tiredness and a general sense of things being rubbish and pointless. I am grateful that I don’t actually feel that I will have to kill myself today. I wish I was grateful for a lot more, but I’m struggling to feel positive about much else.

About purplepersuasion

40 something service user, activist, writer and mother living with bipolar disorder. Proud winner of the Mark Hanson Prize for Digital Media at the Mind Media Awards #VMGMindAwards
This entry was posted in Mental health and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to And then I came to the end. Again.

  1. Oh sweety *hugs* I don’t know /exactly/ how you’re feeling (despite my original response being “That! Exactly that!”) but I do understand.

    I’m glad you have somebody you fel you can talk to in that manner. And that you felt able to (I know I personally would feel awkward and intrusive texting somebody).

    With regards to not blogging much, nobody who reads this will be worried by that (unless they’re worried you’re not ok), every post you do manage is a testament to your strength.

  2. Your post made me cry xxxx

  3. David says:

    Very brave. xxx

  4. maddie50 says:

    What can I say but hang in there. I’ve been where you are again and again and am here for you if ever you need,/want.

    Take care

  5. Viv says:

    I can’t say more than I too have been there, go there so often I may have worn a groove.
    I’ll dm you my mobile number so you have one more possible person to lean on if you need it.

  6. hattiejo says:

    Thank you for being so honest; it’s very brave of you. Keep writing, you’re not alone. xxx

  7. phylor says:

    (((((hugs))))) and I’m so glad you had a friend you could count on to help in your dark hour. I know those feelings all too well; there are days when all I can do is cry and my thoughts turn to possible ways to end the emotional and physical pain. I understand, and to quote Bruce Cockburn from his song, “Lovers in a Dangerous Time” “you have to kick at the darkness til it bleeds daylight.” That, I know, can be so very hard to do. Sending you good vibes. I hope the darkness lifts and there are beams of sunlight soon.

  8. showard76 says:

    I too hate the constant ups and downs, feeling there is only one way out and everyone would be better off without me, fearing never being able to work again and how that reflects on me. Yet somehow we struggle on regardless – you, me and everyone else who shares are problems are all stronger than we believe we are – the proof, that we ARE here today…
    hugs x x x x x x x

  9. Ann says:

    oh, my dear. i’m sorry for such an awful time. know the active suicidal feeling all to well and how awful it is. it is sobering to feel trapped by our emotions and the endless need for med tweaking and, well, just the endlessness of it. i’m not sure you’re on meds (i’m pretty new), but it’s so disappointing when you’re going along doing the right thing and you get smacked with the crappy feelings anyway.

    i’m sending love across the sea and hope that the rise of mood continues. ((((((hugs))))

  10. Hugs! Hang in there. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s