Visual image of bi-polar

To me this is what bi-polar feels like.

1. The dark side represents the depression: It's dark and everything is muted in color and tone. Things don't seem quite right. It's not completely dark, there are little bright spots but they're muted and dull. There's no real fulfillment from anything.  There's a dark cloud that covers everything. It's dark, scary and always hidden. I hide my depression from the outside world with a smile or a joke. It has to be hard to read me when I'm like this. I don't want to show that face to the world.
2. The bright colored side is the mania: It's bright and busy. Sometimes overwhelming and noisy. Things and feelings are all over the place. It's messy and wild. My nerves feel all strung out and over stimulated. The mania is good for when you want to get things done. It's chaos. It's insane. It's cleaning spree and twitchy skin over twitchy nerves. Everything twitches and buzzes. I don't like to go out when I'm in this mode because it can lead to reckless behavior. It wants to spend, it wants to scream and hit things. I hide when it happens.

To me this is what bi-polar feels like it's dull and chaotic at the same time. Two sides of the same coin. Always off balance. Even with medication the balance always is in flux. Bi-polar is a strange beast that lives in my head.

Call of the lost.

Some where I lost myself

and I don't know how to get home

Every day I've been having this feeling of loss. Like I've forgotten something. Or lost something that I just can't remember. I just have this hollow feeling inside and I don't know what to do to fill it. 

Life just doesn't seem to hold much interest, even being on the computer; which is usually one of my greater joys is failing to entertain and do much for me. 

I'm triggered by small things. I jump at strange sounds. I'm flinching when there's flashing commercials on. I've been sleeping A LOT. 

My doctor would say that it's my depression that making me feel so tired all the time, and I acknowledge that, but this is beyond even that. I feel like a part of me is missing. I feel a genuine loss of something.  I hunger for something and have no idea what to sate it with. 

I feel like everyone is avoiding me because I do nothing but complain and whine. I'm sick and I'm tired. Unless someone is dealing with chronic illness's there's no way that they'd understand what it's like to just not have a normal life.

That's what I want. A normal life. One where there's no pain. One where I'm not the shy, awkward outcast. 

I avoid strong emotions the best I can.  So I handle things differently. 

I was shocked and stunned by the latest celeb death due to depression, yet I can't morn it. I've lost my family due to them shutting me out. Yet I'm happy about it. My mom died in Dec and I'm thrilled she's finally gone. I don't have to walk on egg shells around her any more but my not going to the viewing has created a rift. I really don't care either. They're toxic people.  It's better to be rid of toxic influences.

I keep getting people telling me they'll pray for me or I should pray. I want nothing to do with prayer. I find it filled with falsities and unfulfillable  wishes. It's only for the person's comfort and that comfort is a false one. I don't desire falsehoods, I don't need to fall back on some make believe 'savior'  Man created god, not the other way around. Religion is used to control people's thoughts and desires. 

"Religion is the opiate of the masses" ~paraphrased from Karl Marx. Literally meaning that religion acts as a drug to the masses of people. I could be wrong and I usually am. I'm just tired of people shoving religion in my face. I was raised in the most fundamentalist of families. I could have a theological debate with most people and hold my own.  

I follow my own path yet I'm lost and have no idea what's wrong. I  just want to feel full again. I want to feel whole. I don't. I can't.  

Or is this just all part of my damaged brain? Is it because I'm so damaged that I can't feel fulfilled? Because I have so much brain fog that I simply can't remember what I'm suppose to be missing or that I actually am whole but I just don't know?  Perhaps I'm simply too tired to know what I want or need. I killed my own joy. I killed my own happiness by dwelling on all the negative? I try really hard to not to be negative. But it seems that's the way my brain is wired. I can't let go. 

I need to learn to let things go. I need to breath. I need to fly. I'm scared to try. 

Depression is the bitch I hate the most.

Aside from myself.
I'm feeling very depressed today. I just want to curl up and not wake up.  I got all stimulated for the kitten to arrive today or tomorrow, then I get a message that something's come up and they can't make it till the beginning of the month. I'm fine with that I am. I understand that things happen. But I'm also very disappointed. I feel let  down.  But that's not all I just feel so out of sync with everything and that's throwing my depression into high speed.
I'm tired and lacking sleep. I don't feel good.
I just cut ties with my last relative. He's super toxic to my mental health. I just can't care if I've pissed him off. I don't need it.
I don't even know what to write here. I just don't have it today. I feel like crap. and I want to die.

nothing new.

Suicide: That could have been me

All my life I've lived with depression. Of course growing up in the era I did it was something that wasn't addressed at all. I just had to deal with it.
Did the thought of self harm or suicide ever cross my mind. I'd be lying if I said no. I denied it to myself for a long time. I only just recently realized that I do have that urge occasionally.
I was abandoned as a toddler. I lived with a step parent for a while. She was evil. She tried to kill me a number of times. I finally got left with my grandparents at about the age of 3. I only remember bits and pieces of my life before that. And I don't really recall anything before my 5-6 birthday. I remember going to school. I remember having a birthday party for my 6th b-day. Also the day I got a huge burn on my leg when my one cousin pulled me off my dad's motorcycle and my leg got against the hot pipe on the side. Happy birthday with a side of 2nd degree burns. They never did heal right. I can still see the scar occasionally and I'm 55 now.
I grew up knowing I wasn't wanted. The family resented my intrusion into the family. My aunts and uncles were indifferent to me. I was met with a cold shoulder all the time. I was alone in a crowded room. Always over looked always let out. No one would miss me, no one would care. I know that. You just know when you're not wanted. I knew, at all the family gatherings as I sat in the corner of the couch; reading the book I brought along, because I knew they wouldn't include me in any of the things they were doing. I wasn't allowed to play with their toys. I wasn't allowed into their rooms. I was made to wash the celebration plates. No escape, just the puppet that they controlled.  All I wanted was to be accepted or die.  This good christian family treated me like a slave. An unwanted part of life. Those among the few friends don't know how they treated me. To everyone else they were the ideal Christians. They were such hypocrites. Yet people that know them would swear to you that they are the perfect Christians. To me they were liars and bullies. I no longer believe in anything I was taught in church. I renounce everything to do with any kind of religion. I hate it. I hate everything about it.  
At school I was the easy target for the bullies. I was shy, awkward and different looking. I was fat, wore glasses, had out of control curly/frizzy hair. I was the weird one. I liked scifi and nerdy stuff. I was teased for that. I had girl crushes on the popular pop stars at the time. I got teased for that.  I  was pushed, shoved, tripped, had my hair pulled, brand new sneakers stolen out of my locker. I didn't fit in any group. I wasn't smart, I wasn't into sports, not into much of anything, I was a nothing. A ghost. Only a visible ghost. One that got taunted and teased daily. How many times I wanted to just die.
Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe I was too naive. Maybe I was so desperate for a friend that I'd do anything to get a friend or supposed friend. Oh sure I had a few people who were nice to me and I'll give them credit for that. But I wish someone would have stood up for me. Someone would take my side. Someone who'd put an arm over my shoulder and say "It's okay, that person is just being a jerk"  But no, that never happened.
I'm still very sensitive to things. I'm still a bit naive on some things. I desperately want friends. I don't make them easily. People on the internet don't know me as much as they could because most think I complain and whine too much.
It's only recently that I found out that I've had aspergers all along. That accounted for the awkward weirdness of my youth. Why I try too hard. Why I don't understand things sometimes. I have aspergers and sensory processing disorder. Things are too loud, too fast, too much info too much of the time.
I still feel alone all the time. I still feel like I'd be better off dead sometimes. I even plot it out sometimes. But one thing and only one thing holds me back.
My son.
So yeah suicide could have been me. Who knows it still could. I won't but the thought is always there.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I just want to give up writing. No one reads my stuff. I'm feeling lost and alone. I just want to crawl into a hole and fade away.
Those that possibly do read my stuff are likely sick of reading about all my whining and moaning. I'm having a bad case of the 'woe is me's'

I'm so on edge from being over stimulated. I just give up. I hurt I'm scared and I just don't want to go on.