October 11, 2002

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  The dolphins lead me through the darkness of the inky black sea when I lost sight of the lighthouse that would lead me home.       I was lost in the chasm of eternal night, not knowing which way to turn or which direction to go. Lost in the sea of what laymen call "depression," but what we know as the "abyss."

       I can't describe, in mere words, what that deep, dank pit of depression feels like. It is a lonely, solitary place that no one can reach you when you are deep within it. It feels like all is lost and hopeless and that you will NEVER feel better again.
       You, literally, forget what it ever felt like to feel good, to feel happy, to feel like a whole person.
       Depression doesn't just make you listless and sad. You hurt, physically as well. Minor aches and pains become mind-blowing pains throughout your body. You just want it all to STOP but you don't know how to make it stop. You feel powerless, like your life is no longer your own and you don't know how to take it back.
       You throw your hands up in the air and say, "Fuck it, why bother? What can I do that will make it any better? Why even try?"
       So what do you do? You get help, that's what! You go to your priest, minister, mother, father, school couseler, your best friend, whomever, but you TELL someone! You TRY to explain to them how you feel and ASK for help!
       I know exactly where I would be right now if I hadn't asked for help.  I was on a path of self-destruction so bad that I hurt others along the way. I regret that deeply. I never meant to hurt anyone else with my actions, I couldn't see that I even was! I was blind to what I was doing, things I was saying, ways I was acting! I didn't care! I took too many dangerous risks like getting so drunk I could barely walk, but I got in my car each and every night and drove home... only to wake in the morning, in my bed, not knowing how in the world that I got there, only remembering getting in the car at the bar after the night's set was over (I sang in the band).  Driving drunk is not only stupid, it's dangerous! What would I have done had I killed someone?! Thank the Gods I didn't!
       But at the time, I just didn't care. All I cared about was dulling the pain and the drugs and the alcohol were my way of doing it along with the cutting of myself. Yes, I am a recovering cutter. Not a fun thing to do.
       Why do cutters cut? Because that is the ONLY pain that we can control. Its the only pain that we can start and stop and when we cut we concentrate on the pain that we're inflicting upon ourselves and it takes the mind off the other pains that we are feeling.
       Are we morons because we're depressed? Are we stupid because we're manics? Are we insane because we're cutters? NO. Most of us that are bipolar are very intelligent people with college degrees. Most of us are creative as hell. Most of us are people, just like you. We just happen to have a chemical imbalance in our brain, so yeah, it really is "all in our heads." Imagine that.
       What causes it? The neurons in the brain misfire. They send the wrong chemicals at the wrong time and our actions, emotions and senses suffer for it. We say things we don't mean, we do things we wouldn't normally do, it's like we're an entirely different person.
       I found out the other day... my last pdoc appointment, as a matter of fact, that I have a split personality disorder. Yep, I'm two different beings. Just can't contain all this stuff into one person, eh?
       My other personality is a raging bitch. You may have met her. She often blogs on her bitch blog here in Xanga. She's not nice. She says really bad things and I don't like her much, but she is a part of who I am and I have to get a handle on her.
       Thank the Gods and Goddesses for medications! Medications, meditations, affirmations, counseling, friends, doctors, support groups... all my lifelines. All that goes into keeping me on an even latitude.
       The support system. Very, very important.
       Sorry I went off on a tagent there. I'm a little hypomanic I think. Better then the depression I've been in for the last two weeks. I hate that dark and dank place. I'd much rather be hypo or even manic then in the depression.
       If you have read this far, I thank you. If you haven't, I will understand. Much love and peace to all.
  

  • 5:14 am
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