I just left my boyfriends’ place because somehow, after feeling so stable (and happy, and in love) I have fallen a steep, hard fall.
It has been several weeks since my last bout of depression, and to say the least, I was not prepared or ready for this one, which has now lasted almost five days. I had a little ‘slip’ awhile ago, one day, after drinking (not getting drunk) just having a few drinks. But that only lasted, one day.
Bipolar to me is terrifying. This whole pain of highs and lows isn’t new to me I guess, but the meds are. The knowledge is. The dealing is.
I have gone from eating everything in sight this past week, to right now at this very moment losing my appetite completely not even wanting to think about food. The muscle aches, the fatigue. The pain, the tears. The emptiness. I am lost, and I am alone.
Ah, the muscle aches. I am in so much physical pain. I need to have a bath, but I have no energy to do that right now. I feel like crawling back into my hole of blankets on my bed and sleeping this nightmare away. And yet, sleeping is the last thing I want to do right now, because I have been doing that around the clock all week. It actually scares me, the thought of going to bed.
Last night I lay awake thinking of how I no longer wish to live. I don’t quite remember the last time those thoughts invaded my mind, my injured spirit.
How is it possible to get to this point after where I’ve been the past several weeks? Why am I having so many panic attacks? Is this new medication going to help? If it is, when? Is the drinking (again only a few drinks) I did last weekend the result of this anguish?
How can I go on anymore?