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 Hello lovelies 🌸 I’m in bed watching a movie eating snacks and all. I wonder if you guys have any coping mechanisms to forget about the mess you call your life? Are they healthy or something that sets you straight into a spiral? For me it’s movies, series and books. I let myself get lost in another world, if I don’t exist then neither does my pain. But there was a time where I went from depressed to manic while “coping” and ended up not knowing which reality I was in. I couldn’t make out the differences between real and imaginary and didn’t know which one I belonged in. How do I behave and according too which reality, so I can make sure nobody knows I’m “crazy” as I used to call myself.

My full-blow bipolar symptoms began when I was 12. It’s way younger than most but I managed to hide it for so long. I didn’t get my diagnosis until I was 19 and it was the first time I heard about bipolar disorder. I had, after a manic episode which lasted for almost 2 months, gone into such a deep depression that I slept for about 2 weeks. I would wake up for an hour or so when my mom would shake me but sometimes not even that helped. I would eat half asleep and then go back to sleep. My family forced me to seek medical help. They found out the truth about how long I had been hiding my symptoms. I honestly thought I was crazy and that they would lock me into an asylum. I was constantly scared of anyone finding out the truth about me. My parents always complained about me locking my door, but they didn’t realize that if I lost control that locked door would make sure I wouldn’t end up with the label crazy. I once “woke up” from a manic episode on the floor in the kitchen, I had managed to unlock my room and go out. I can vaguely remember being in the kitchen and leaving my room but I have no idea of what happened in between that. 

Watching this movie which was released 10 years ago reminds me of the time when I found out the reason I am as I am. It reminds me of my inner struggle of not knowing if this diagnosis confirmed that I really was crazy or if it meant that there was something wrong, something that could be fixed with medication. And then I thought that needing that medication to become normal must mean that I really am crazy. 

All in all it’s taken me so many years to realize that bipolar is a part of me, going through this is what turned me into me. I still feel like my life is some sort of punishment every time I have a really bad episode. I still look forward to the day I die but whenever that day comes I will know that I fought until the end. I fought for my child. He gave me strength to continue during my good days and he gave me a reason to fight during my worst days. 💜❤️//🦋