ell-em - Tumblr blog

ell-em · 2 years

Text

As I sit here folding clothes, listening to old songs that take me back to another time in my life. Smelling the sweet fresh air mixed with cinnamon, chai, and allspice from a fiercely burning candle. I can’t help but think of ways I’ve been described.

Thinking of times whenever someone is getting to know you romantically, someone who’s known you most of your life. It’s fairly easy to describe what you love about someone, why you love them, what draws them to love you and their favorite qualities about you. Then, the second that something changes and it doesn’t work out how either party had planned, it’s knives out. It’s showing blade-like sharp teeth with a thirst for blood. A hunt to hurt someone like they hurt. A hunger that they will do anything to feed.

From hearing things like “you have the biggest heart of anyone I know” and “you care about making everyone happy and being nice to everyone” as some of your best qualities. Only to be told in the end, “you are so fucking selfish.” It’s whenever you finally decide to start being nice to yourself, finally start making yourself happy, that brings out the worst in someone. When you are found wounded, searching for a sanctuary, your safe place, somewhere to rest your weary head and lick your wounds.. that someone is willing to lend a hand and coddle you along the way. The minute that your wounds have turned to just scars, that the sun comes out after the horrific storm that you’ve whethered, and you’ve finally decided to start making yourself happy, that YOU are your safe place is the minute that someone shows you how they truly feel for you. How they truly care for you and what they want and expected from you.

I’m not saying there was never love there, I’m sure at points there were. Moments spent driving in the sun with wind blowing in your hair, looking over to smile back at that person and thinking that this is it. Life couldn’t get any sweeter than this. This right here is your foundation of your future, the love you feel in that moment. That’s not always the case though. Ultimately, it is temporary. It is but a mere stepping stone for your real future. It’s heartbreaking to look back at those moments- to hear a certain song, feel a certain way on a sunny or rainy day, or to even smell the aroma of a comfort you once knew. I remind myself quite frequently that there was love there, but at the end of the day I am the only one who helps myself up, who picks me up off the floor, who can comfort me in the ways I want to be comforted. I understand me better than anyone else does. That’s not necessarily their fault. It’s not their fault that there wasn’t compatibility once the healing journey started.

There will be people who understand you. People that want to help you grow, who will nourish the earth you walk on. There will also be people who will cut the water supply to the soil, who will cut down your beautiful trees providing your oxygen. Sometimes, it comes from the same person. You must always remember that there is a tribe of people who will rebuild with you. Those are the people who will give you shelter while you rebuild, who will shine a light while you work endlessly into the night to make sure your home is perfect. You mustn’t let the thoughts and views of someone who simply wants to hurt you, destroy you. Granted, that is easier said that done.

The hurtful words that have been said to me, described to me, I know aren’t true. Though, they do live in my head, I wear them as scars internally and externally. I look down at a constant reminder of the milestones that I can conquered. The kind, loving words overpower that negatively though. They are a whisper some days, which is probably why I need that reassurance from others. It’s a hell of a lot easier to believe it from someone else than from yourself. Most days, I have to shout out those whispers that are trying so hard to be heard.

But as they say- no rain, no flowers.

0 notes

ell-em · 2 years

Text

It has previously been recommended that I start my own blog or write my own book, amongst other suggested things that I won’t go into just yet. I’m not sure what I’ll make of this. Whether it be more of a journal, some sort of way to vent out the thoughts of madness that stir around in my head. A way to attempt to gather the right words in my mind to remotely describe, no, express how I feel to others.

So I shall start with the beginning of my diagnosis, I suppose.

bi·po·lar dis·or·der

a mental condition marked by alternating periods of elation and depression.

It seems simple and easy to manage through reading a definition, right? Wrong. I have spent the last nearly 3 years trying to take back control of my mental health. With struggles of anxiety and depression, thinking that was just the worst of it, to still feeling this sort of madness in my head that I could never quiet. Only for it to be followed by these intrusive thoughts of self harm, in which, sometimes I gave into despite the countless cries and oppositions from loved ones. Different dosages and brands of medications, all of which simply just were a bandaid on what seemed like a gaping hole of a wound. All the signs were there of what previously was known as manic depressive. I’d feel great for a few days. Even better than that actually. On top of the world, exhilarated, like nothing could possibly bring me down. Damn near nearly feeling the blood pumping through my veins. The adrenaline, like I’ve never felt more alive. Only for one minor inconvenience, one slight jolt back to reality, to bring me back down. Imagine your lowest of lows… Then imagine about 100 more feet lower. I feel as though only those with this same disorder truly understand the intensities that I feel on a day to day basis. How it’s never as simple as “just get over it”, “calm down”, “it’ll get better.”

That tends to be my personal favorite.. “it’ll get better.” Because, ultimately, it will get better. For the days that it gets better, there’s that many more bringing me back to the depths of depressing reality that is my instability of the chemicals in my brain. The calmness I rarely feel, that I so crave. The calmness and peace that I only feel with certain people in my life to the point that being with them is sometimes like my own personal drug. It is sometimes hard to decipher which is healthy and which isn’t. I was told that whenever I’m up, I’m beautiful and bright. Vibrant even, but whenever I’m down… it’s heartbreaking. It truly is, for me and for those around me. I wish I knew a way to help myself, so I could possibly tell my tribe what it is I need on those days that I can’t force myself to take care of myself. When I do not have the energy mentally or emotionally, which takes a toll of me physically. The truth is, I’m still learning.

I spent the last of those 3 years battling and trying to be my own advocate for my mental health while in a relationship with one of my best friends. Someone who I grew up with, who watched after I loved man after man, while he wished it was him. We gave it a chance. It was everything I wanted and needed at the time until it wasn’t. That’s the best way to put it. I regret how it ended, truly. I do not, however, regret my time spent with this man. He pulled me from my darkest place and showed me that I did not have to live there. I do not have to live with nor love something that does not serve me. He showed me how to love myself. He showed me many things and brought so much to my life. Even the thought of a child, which did not work out. The memory of what could have been, motherhood and unconditional love, still haunts me. He will truly never know how thankful I am to him for pounding into my brain that I need to advocate for my own mental health and take time for myself to heal prior to moving on. I did not listen at the time, of course, but eventually I did. I listened at the wrong time and when I finally got that time to myself. To truly be alone, I loved it. I enjoyed only being responsible for me. Going from that sense of independence to back to living together was a transition I was not ready to make. Which in turn, took it’s toll on our relationship.

During that last year together, I had major ups and downs. I had been diagnosed with type 2 bipolar disorder. I was in the threshold of trying to level out on medication. Trying to find what worked for me and what didn’t with the unwavering dedication from my psychiatrist. I had done all of this while being hours away from my people. My tribe, my loved ones, my coven, the people that mean everything to me. I shut myself away from them. I recoiled at a loving touch. I sobbed at the thought of leaving my bed for anything, even to relieve myself of normal bodily functions. I craved the feeling of euphoria that I got when I had a blade to my skin. That was the only thing that seemed to bring me back to reality. The feeling that reminded me that I’m still here, as self destructive as it is, I did not care. It’s what worked for me during that time. I had lost myself during the months of being away. Every little thing that I had just discovered about myself, I had lost. I finally started having a few more ups, I managed to make it through work days with the help of music. Losing myself in the words of others and dancing around to the rhythm in my head was a type of therapy for me. Until everything came to a screeching haunt in my relationship and I needed to leave. I needed to go back home. I went through all the motions, grieving what could have been… but mostly mourning what was. How things were in the beginning, but ultimately accepting the reality that it was no longer like that.

I had found myself and realized my needs, desires, and cravings. What nourishes my soul and helps me grow as a person. For this, I am thankful. More importantly, I realized that what I need most is myself. I am also grateful for the determination of my psychiatrist who has never given up on trying to find the right medication along with dosage to keep me relatively stable on a day to day basis. Grateful for friends who I have become deeply closer with since being back. Appreciative for new relationships that have developed with others with the real me.

This has slightly touched base with everything over the last year or so that I have struggled and somewhat conquered yet still cannot accurately describe how it was experiencing these things when you feel it tenfold. I guess what I’m trying to get out is that, even though, all these great things happen in my life. I still have this heartbreaking sadness that is unexplained. Days where I just don’t even want to lift my head, let alone conquer the day from 7-5. Then there’s those days where you’d never believe how out of touch with reality I am. The ultimate question I ask myself, if I had a chance to take away my illness, would I? I honestly can say that I don’t know that I would. As much pain and sorrow this illness has brought me, it’s brought me that much joy. It has made me more vibrant, feel more intensely of course. But I feel as though it has made my life that much more interesting, despite taking me down paths I’d never thought to go down.

So bare with me, as I go through the daily motions of madness while trying to navigate my life in a remotely decent direction of stability.

1 note · View note