Friday, September 23, 2011
I've been trying to think of something to write all week. I've been trying to think of how to explain this to my new counselor. I've been trying to think of how to explain this to my new friends at school who I have little to no history with. I can't come up with anything. All I have is a list of symptoms. No explanation as to why I have missed most of my classes this week, why I've cancelled appointments with friends and lost hope. I told God I hated him. Yes, I believe it was around three am one night in the past week and a half that I told the Holy Of Holies that I hated his stinkin' guts. That's going to bode REALLY well for me when I am waiting at the gates of heaven later on. I know there is punishment listed in the Bible for disbelief or unfaithfulness, but verbal abuse of God? I don't know. And if you do know- I DON'T want to know. Pretty sure it's not good. I don't feel like reading the Bible because I don't care. At the moment I refuse to believe that any good is coming from me feeling this terrible. I can't muster much other than being fake. I am very good at this. I used to be so good at it that I could fake myself out. Now, not so much. It's gotten old and I've gotten good at recognizing it. "It" being Bipolar Disorder. I can fake it pretty well. You can have no idea what's going on with me. Unless I tell you. Unless you poke some random nerve and I start to inexplicably cry. I am good at lying by omission. In the past that's been because I didn't want to admit to myself that anything was wrong, so telling anyone else would have shattered the illusion that I held. Now, it again is for selfish reasons. I don't want to explain. I have nothing to explain. Want my list of symptoms? Okay, here it goes. I can't go to class. I can't face large amounts of people. I can't fall asleep until 4, 5, or 6 in the morning. I hate talking about anything that resembles my life, so I prefer just to hear about other people's lives. I watch episodes of tv, so again, I can live someone else's life. I ignore anything that might make me feel worse than I do. I feel like crying, screaming sometimes. I don't look at people when I talk to them. I usually pick a point somewhere on the floor to the left of them and if I am forced to talk about "it" then that's where my gaze stays. I have no emotion in my eyes. Other than endless amounts of crying that leave them red and puffy, I simply don't care. I talk about "it" in a detached monotone voice like it's not even a part of me. I despise living this way. God, it's so pathetic. I feel like I have nothing to offer anyone. I lose track of eating, sleeping, bathing, brushing my teeth, things that most people do automatically. I can't write. Nothing makes sense- no two sentences can form a complete thought. Look at this. It's a paragraph made up of single thought sentences that only connect in a way to one thing- symptoms. Anyone can write a list. My academic brain is shot to hell. I can't spell. And I have no idea if this is in anyway connected but I almost fainted three times today, threw up once, and heaved several other times. Been fine for the last 8 hours or so. Can't explain it. And I look like crap. That's the final one. Could pick a stronger one, but that would be inappropriate. But probably no more so than telling God I hated him. Meh. Probably should sin less after that one. The title of this post is "Speechless" which may not seem so apt after this long list, but did I come any closer to explaining it. Nope. I still can't verbalize it. Hours on the phone, hours in counseling, hours going over it in my head and all I can come up with is that I hate being Bipolar. Awesome. Back at square one.