If I am honest. It’s been weeks of these thoughts, but they came at me hard today. I have tried to hide them, but I can feel the familiar feeling that accompanies these thoughts. It’s the dark place that I am always afraid of never leaves someone like me. The thoughts that I wish were in the past, but I am unsure of myself when things are this bad. This weekend was scary. I was not myself. I was going through the motions knowing where my mind was, and today it took me over. Those thoughts that I cannot even speak because then it becomes real.
My mental health has always been ironic. I celebrated ten years of suicidal thoughts and my last suicide. I can say that before today I would never go down that road again, and yet I did. I imagined the world without me. I got lost in all that is wrong with me right now. The feelings I am not dealing with on all levels. These thoughts are gone or perhaps that is what I tell myself so that I can wake up tomorrow and try to find the normal.
I have my doctor’s appointment with my psychiatrist tomorrow (Monday), and it is a good thing. I have to let her know that these thoughts have become a part of me again. I needed time off this weekend, and I didn’t seize the opportunity. I looked at everything and fell apart. I want to drink my troubles away like the old days. I want to just feel that beyond this blog, I can talk about these things. Tonight I go to sleep genuinely trying to find out where I am in this life. There is always tomorrow and the hope that I can have a conversation with my doctor. The Bipolar Writer is not in the right place, but I am safe. I will not allow these thoughts to consume. It might be a temporary weakness or a bigger problem, but I will continue to fight.
I can fight this demon. MY dark passenger. MY friend.
Always Keep Fighting
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