The Demon Has Made An Appearance

The evil head of bipolar has decided to surface this week and it has forced me to my knees in brokenness. I spent the past 2 days curled up in the fetal position in my bed, a dog on either side of me keeping me warm. I am a walking zombie, experiencing waves of emotion that leave me crumpled over in tears. I’m so detached that I have no awareness of what’s happening around me, often not even hearing David say my name. Buddy has taken to lying on top of my chest and I welcome his weight and warmth as it’s the only thing reminding me I’m still alive.

Bipolar disorder is hard.

I’ve gone a while without having an episode but when I do, each one is truly a battle of life and death. Yesterday I took a handful of pills. Not enough to stop my heart but enough to induce a 19 hour semi coma. My husband came to find me in a very deep sleep, curled up in the fetal position, and drooling and he wasn’t able to wake me. After a while he pulled me to a sitting position and got me to drink water. In a fit of rage he flushed all of the medication, leaving me without any for the next 2 weeks, until I can get it filled again. I’m screwed.

Then he sat up all night. My husband sat up the entire night, watching over me, afraid that I was going to stop breathing. But I didn’t. I made it through the night and he left me in bed and went to work at 6am with zero sleep. And that’s where I stayed until 4pm today. My only accomplishment has been a shower which I cried the whole way through.

If you have a god that you pray to, I ask from the bottom of my heart that you would whisper a prayer for me. I’m not doing so good …. and I’m really scared. I don’t know how much I can handle.

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Effects of Meds on Marriage

I’m trying to decide which can cause more damage to my marriage: the medication side effects or an unmedicated illness.

Ever since I started medication for my bipolar disorder years ago, I have secretly struggled with a decrease in sexual desire.

I could stop the meds. Then I wouldn’t have to force myself to have sex with my husband. I wouldn’t have to start mentally preparing myself in the morning so that I could initiate sex that night and make my husband think I’m all fired up.

I am, in fact, fired up. But it’s not something that instantly happens anymore. I can’t get spontaneously turned on and desire sex at random times. Not since I began treatment for bipolar disorder.

I have to spend hours working towards it. Mentally, I self talk.  I do thinks to make myself FEEL pretty. Paint my nails. Or style my hair. Send David a few kinky texts at work. Texts I have already written and prepared and saved in a file. Ready for when I need them. Maybe I put clean sheets in our bed.

And sometimes I go to our “special” drawer. A place where we keep our adult toys. I hold one and visualize the things we’ve done with it. I pick up another and another and imagine what I could do with it with David that night.

Sometimes I start to feel a tinge of desire. Of longing. And I begin to get excited for him to get home from work. I lie back on my bed and all of a sudden I feel like crying.

I should not have to work this hard and I should definitely not need to prepare myself like this in order to be intimate with my own husband. So I battle with the thought of stopping my medications.

If I do that, what happens then? A completely different problem arises. The bipolar itself. A whole new kind of strain on our marriage.

Stopping my meds means the depression will surface. I won’t want to get out of bed. I’ll be very irritable and end up causing arguments with my husband over little insignificant things. Without my meds I blow up over everything.

I may become manic. End up spending our mortgage money on dog toys on eBay. I stop sleeping so I don’t even make it to bed for nights on end.

And sex? Yeah! I can’t control myself. I want to be touching him all the time. I need to be near him every minute that he’s home, often causing him frustration because I take away his personal space.

Then we argue.

We get frustrated.

And I get suicidal.

All of this because I stopped my medication so that I could be more intimate with my husband. But instead, the bipolar has made things even worse.

So ultimately, what has more effect on intimacy in my marriage? I don’t exactly have an answer to that. Living with bipolar isn’t easy and there isn’t a single area of my life that isn’t affected. I wake up every morning, afraid. Afraid that he will leave me because intimacy is so complicated for us.

So what would cause more damage to my marriage? Taking the medication or living with untreated bipolar disorder? I’m not sure and I’m not about to find out.

Because thankfully I have an amazing guy who tries his best to understand me and my illness. We communicate openly about intimacy in our relationship and I know that I won’t ever have to stop my medication in order to keep my husband satisfied sexually.

And I hope you never feel the need to do that either.

A Late Night Breakdown

3am and I’m still awake. Sitting in the dark with tears streaming down my face, wiping my nose with the back of my hand as I swallow my sobs because I don’t want to wake my husband.

Random irrational thoughts have been intruding my mind for the past 6 hours and I feel like I’m losing control.

So I ate. Chewing and swallowing, never tasting a single bite, putting my focus on what I had in front of me. Shoveling random food items into my mouth and then gulping them down much faster than was necessary, just trying to push these horrible feelings far enough down just so that I could safely make it through the rest of this night.

But it didn’t work.

To the bathroom. With my toothbrush in hand I poke the back of my throat, over and over, harder and faster, again and again…….

Until the only thing left coming out of me is snot and tears. I’m feeling so weak and so … broken.

My husband is still comfortably sleeping, the world is completely oblivious to what I’m going through. My dogs sit on either side of me, wondering why I have interrupted their sleep and why I am so upset.

I contemplate taking something to help me relax. I have a lot of options sitting in my top drawer. My mouth waters. The answer to everything that’s wrong right now. I could make all this shit end … even for a little while.

I’m desperate and so fuckin tired ….

When I am home alone in my house all day I find my thoughts often get a bit crazy. I think about such strange things that are completely random and I can’t help but wonder where on earth do these thoughts stem from. The mind can be a complicated thing sometimes.

At least mine does.

I Sink Deeper

I am good for a while.
I'll talk more, laugh more, sleep and eat normally. But then something happens. It's like a switch turns off somewhere and all I am left with is a darkness of my mind.
But each time it seems like I just sink deeper and deeper. And it's scary.
I'm terrified that one Day I won't make it back up. I
feel like I am gasping for air, screaming for help. But everyone just looks at me with confused faces, wondering what I am struggling over, When they're all doing just fine.
And it makes me feel nothing but crazy.