Is it really worth another breath?

Beneath this smile is a thousand tears hidden from your eyes. Wiped aggressively from my glassy window pains which have been bolted shut from the outside. In between each breath is a thought I cannot carry. Reaching out for the latch to escape. With every wondering gaze I’m wishing I could see what was behind me. Even in my own home I feel fear of a lurking evil prying. I have been trying to think of ways to be normal all day. It took me hours to leave the house today and now I’m out I realise I haven’t eaten anything at all. But I have planned out my route to go back and cook. Can’t break the plan as my stomach twists and dives. So I have to wait. Feeling a guilt and sadness lifting up inside. Pushing down my insanity I focus on the smells of the flowers and the cheers of children playing. Absorbing the wonders of life I find myself paralysed sat on a bench overlooking a beautiful park. The sloping plush green grass, bees zooming effortlessly working hard. I wish I knew what to do today. I envy the bees with their purpose. I have to make plans in my head verified by the crazy person inside. She is me and I am her. From time to time I let her run the show and destroy someone else’s smiles as well as my own. Today I will just sit outside and hope the breeze can lead me away from my suicide.

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The mood of Valentines 

Busted, happy valentines day and already started on a bad note. My colleague came to work too early meaning I rushed to get up and felt exposed. I walked from the house to the town centre feeling on edge. The mizzle turned to rain and my mood plummeted. Then I resisted buying wine before my bus ride home. I am going to remain sober, I am not going to let myself get out of control. I resisted the urge to cry when something made me jump. I hate being so jumpy. I hate feeling bad about myself. It’s been getting worse and worse. I normally try and kill myself by this time of the year. Should I feel proud or that I know that I have a pattern which is so regular that with out it I begin to feel lost.

Lost, losing my my mind. Am I lost? I have begun to see the world in black and white. Is this worth it, should I give it a chance?

A guy I know came over, he didn’t even want me. Nobody does. They say I need to work on myself but is it possible to grow with no idea where you are going.

Getting over it

Today as I travelled I rambled. I looked at the window and wondered if I jumped would I die. Probably not. This was all because someone had mentioned about how some people asked to get raped by their actions and who they surround themselves with. This really depressed me. They have no idea I have had my own personal experience with rape. I did not say anything though. 

There is so much pressure when it comes to coping with rape, most of it unspoken and swept under carpets. I still can not say the word I say the ‘R’ in a awkward tone with arms crossed normally after consuming alcohol with the safety of my friends. Or in hushed tones after an awful sexual experience.  I find that I have told all the important people in my life with immense guilt; I think maybe they wish I had not told them at all. 

When I think about it I feel like I am too ugly to have been raped, too tall and odd looking. I know it doesn’t matter what I look like, that rape is an act of power but still it comes down to how secretly insecure I am about myself. I know that it could of been anyone and he saw an opportunity but there were much more attractive people than me. Maybe I am just that pathetic. I think about the rape how I wore a conservative black shirt and knee length skirt. I didn’t look seductive or easy. 

Rape is so dangerous, it hurts you mentally, physically and those around you. It pushes people away and tests their ability to cope either that or it scares them away. I hate that it bothers me, that I had the bad luck of being singled out. 

I have a lot of anxiety that when I sleep with a new person that I am likely to have a panic attack, that I will think about it for a moment  and not feel confident enough to say anything destroying a potentially good moment. When I was r-ed I fought meekly I was scared so my arms seemed heavier and wobbly like jelly when I pushed away at his shoulders, my voice could of been a scream or quiet whisper when asking him to stop, telling him that I did not want it and then I froze. Even though it’s been over a year and a half I still sometimes think of the freezing and accepting it. 

When I feel rejected I think of how I deserved being r-ed because I had been rude to the man as he was terrorising me, pursuing me and I did not know how to deal with it. He dragged me and I pulled myself free but did not run. I think that he must of known what a terrible person I am. 

When I think of rape I think of videos on Facebook talking about empowerment, support and fighting against sexual violence but I don’t see that yet. I have flashbacks. I go right back to thinking of closing that video and running away from the words. When I see rape in movies I wish there had been a warning because it makes me cry most of the time and cringe to the core, I normally leave the room. Maybe I am too sensitive? 

When I talk about rape to my closest friends I feel so guilty because I must sound like a broken record. I worry immensely about my future. I wonder if I will ever be at ease and happy with sex again. I look back at a time before the r and I remember being relaxed, sexual and free. Now I feel like I’m being strangled with lots of bits of string. 

Mental Health Denial

Denying myself especially when it is my personality is painful. That is what lithium does to me,  it feels as if it holding me back and that I am detached from the rest of the world. That lithium has put up walls between me and being alive. 

With music about Lithium dramatising the medication, making it interesting and  even those negative connotations  are depicted as if validating my bipolar. It adds to the ever gaining pressure. That pressure of being destructive, out of control and a liability. That I am a force ripping through my friends and family. It makes me also feel at peace at times and even understood. But that doesn’t stop me despising Lithium when I feel outside the room. 

When taking Lithium I move from my sofa to the bed in disdain after swallowing the chalky toxic element. I visualise the poison travelling around my body, clogging up parts of my brain inhibiting my neurotransmitters altering my brain. I imagine my heart clogging and think to myself tomorrow I will stop poisoning myself and be who I was born to be. 

Maybe I am just in denial about having a mental health problem as being labelled  Bipolar still catches in my throat. I spent years in denial never wanting to own up to having a mental illness. Telling people that they were never sure, that my diagnosis was ever changing. I even said this to professionals when I knew I had a diagnosis of bipolar disorder when accessing a new mental health team after moving that I did not have a formal diagnosis. Just because I wanted to put it off as something that just needs some therapy. Even after being sectioned and immediately placed on a mood stabiliser, in hospital for around 7 weeks and not remembering much of anything taking haloperidol, lorazepam and quetiapine like candy. I was sure I had just had a mental breakdown. A blip. I blamed everything on other people who hurt me the most. They did do some awful things but so did I. 

I started on a clean slate. I always start on a clean slate but it’s just means me getting rid of everyone I know. 

Nothing is ever simple, stigma has held me back and made me avoidant. But then I have held me back and never taken the straight or narrow. Privately rebelling and never breaking the surface. 

Out of Grasp

I aspire to write positive messages of hope and journeys,
Filled with beauty and meaning.
I have spoken many words but they are filled with distaste.
Who can help me with these black and white frames?
How do I appreciate the grey?
When looking out onto the ocean I feel no emotion.
I selfishly speak of my own world,
As I don’t see anything clearly outside myself.
I wonder if really I am living in a land filled with hope,
Whether people are forever on their journey,
Whether I am just blind to the satisfying life.
The reason I breath tonight is because I hope the warmth of the sun touches me just once,
The caressing wind of love,
How am I blind to it all even though I recognise it in others?

Bipolar

Bipolar disorder
I didn’t see you at the audition
You brought anxiety and depression for the ride
You didn’t even have a plus one.
Who gave you the right to call all the shots?
Don’t ask how I slept last night

Bipolar disorder
Is infront of the the crowd taking a bow.
When did you replace me?
The show was meant to be mine.
I am bipolar
I then am me
When did life become so confusing?

Bipolar disorder
Has all the fun
She takes off her clothes with ease
She sings in the streets
She is so sexy almost preditary

Bipolar disorder runs aimlessly
Picking at poison berries
Laughing at her own jokes
Even before the punchlines been spoke

Bipolar disorder
Destroyed everything in its path
But I also should be to blame.
Bipolar disorder
I let you cover for me,
When I was feeling weak.
Pushed my head to the ground.
I feel betrayed as you were meant to help me,
You sent me God’s, spirits and love,

Bipolar disorder
You lulled me into a false sense of security.
Moulded me into a shell
Washed up on the shore of no hope
I want the high to come back,
To have Hecates whisper to me
But she taunts me with a deep depression
Bipolar disorder is there a way out?

I look up into the clouds and silence my urge to scream
Set me free, leave me be.
Bipolar disorder why did you pick me?

Suicidal 

I am all for being open and honest, I had enough of lying to my friends and family with stories rationalising my poor choices when really they were the best for me.  

I am not average, I’m not normal or stable. I scare people away and push them out of my life because I feel as if I am going to never be a normal person. That life with me in it is not good for others and that atmosphere is not good for me. I tell myself that they bring me down. 

The last episode I felt coming for months but nobody heard me. I told the mental health services and gp that I felt weird, that I was hearing voices and it was ruining my life. For a few weeks she was kind and honest ‘the voice’ who became known as a god Hecates but when she was mean she sent spirits and evil shadowy henchmen to taunt me. 

I knew this was wrong and tried to hold it together but the images and reality became confused. Some days I accepted it and let it run behind me, it manifested in figiditing or anxious behaviour. Other times I had ideas and I would butt in when people were talking. Other times I felt as if I was outside myself. Nobody said anything to me but I became increasingly paranoid and wanted to quit my life and run away to live in Italy. I started making Italian food obsessively, drinking Italian coffee and trying to learn phrases. 

I had been ringing the crisis team and telling them I felt so low. That I was being taunted and she wanted me to kill myself. I could tell it was wrong but after arguing with someone I love I felt that it was a sign that I could make people happy if I was dead. 

So I overdosed and after an 2 hours I decided to ring my friend. It dawned on me it would take days, weeks or months to die. That I had nowhere to die. That my shared house was not good enough. I needed a long term plan.