Dark days

Everything is a blur. I am struggling…I have words playing on and on in my head “medication increase will be needed…you can’t drive…we still consider epilepsy as a cause…MRI…PNES…”

I am barely functioning these days. I am crying a lot. Depression hit me full force after the mania I had 1 or 2 weeks ago. I am not good with time. Time is relative, especially so for those who have bipolar disorder. I just harness all the force I have and keep dragging myself around no matter what…I can’t fall to bed. I need to stand vertical. I will stand vertical!!!



I’m in here. I am struggling to climb the high walls Depression puts around me. She puts walls around me and around my soul. Thick, masonry and concrete walls. No windows. No sunshine coming in. Just me and the beat of my heart.

The fire in my soul is still burning, still alive. I am not completely in the dark. Sometimes the 1000 abusive voices want to tell me that my soul has died, thus I have died, or I should die, but I can feel that fire, that warmth, that rhythm. I am alive. I am still alive.

I am touching the surface of the walls in the dark. Some of bricks are chipped. Maybe the prisoner before tried to smash the walls, the same way I tried so many times. But wait…this is my cell, I think Depression puts each one of her prisoners in different cells. Yes! This is how I remember it is, she keeps us isolated so she can control us better.

Does that mean that the chipped and crumbled bricks are the fruit of my struggle to demolish this prison? I think that’s the only explanation.

I can use them! As a “ladder”. A climbing wall. I can get out of this. I’m going to grip the little niches in the bricks. I am going to dig my fingernails into them and make an effort to drag myself out of this hole. I am going to do it until my fingers and hands get bloody. I am going to make it, I am going to make it!


“Things get worse before they get better”, so they say. But for how many times? Why am I here again when all I have been doing was working on getting better?

In moments like these it is so easy to give up. Throw medication away. Therapy? Was that really helping since I am here again? My coping strategies? Are they valid? But I won’t give up.

Moments like these make me understand and have more empathy for the ones who do give up. This continuous struggle is painful. The night seems darker than ever. On top of that, your struggle is invisible. No rash, no fever, nothing on the outside but maybe those tired eyes and broken smile.

“But you were better!”, “Oh…again?”, “Keep positive”…people mean well. I’ve been on the other side, too. The feeling of helplessness the ones who care about you are feeling is tearing them apart.

I’m still trying to figure out how to receive support. Any kind. How do I act when my loved ones are trying to offer me support, but they are not actually educated enough about what I am going through? And what exactly am I going through? I am more confused than ever. There’s no label on it. For a long time I thought that it’s major depressive disorder and anxiety, but now I am not sure anymore…my moods are crazy, this depression comes after what looks very much like a hypomanic episode.

I am trying hard. I’ve been doing my best and I’m going to continue to do my best. It’s just hard with this 1000 tons weight crushing me…



My mind is a hurricane

At the moment I do not know where I am from a psychological point of view. I am doing my best. I am keeping a routine. I am taking my medication.

My mother has seen me and her opinion was that I am doing great. I sometimes believe this too. I am well, depression is gone and I can function properly. Maybe I’ve never been depressed!

These are dangerous thoughts. I need to take a step back every time and reassess the situation. Am I really better being given that my insomnia is back? What about my mood swings? Why do they happen?

Am I that good at taming my dark thoughts? I’ve always recovered quite fast after a breakdown.

I’m living in the extremes. Intensity is what I am feeling right now, but in the evening I might feel empty. Maybe I am not patient enough. I am aware that I only started this higher dose of treatment 3 months ago. I am aware that I still need to do a lot in therapy even if we managed to go way underneath the surface from the first sessions…

It’s one of that times when insecurity seems to take over. Going to carry on!