Bipolar, bipolar disorder, Mental Health, mental illness

You say I have a lovely face but how is that enough when I have to live through bipolar hell? 

Someone stopped me on the street and complimented me on my ‘lovely face’ and tried to make me join a charity. They asked me how I was and I said ‘I’m okay’, thus hiding my manic pain. What I am struck by is how people feel the need to compliment you but if only they knew that I would rather stop being pretty and no longer have bipolar than be pretty with bipolar. Gone are the days when I say I’d always keep bipolar; it’s just not worth all the heartache and the pain and anguish. I’ve been manic a lot recently and it’s been hard because I feel emotions so intensely and it’s all too much! I really think it’s going to be a painful difficult life if this never goes away. 

Yes, I am only occasionally siutuationally depressed now but I still get suicidal sometimes and I still get the highs all the time and with that comes the extreme anxiety and the anger and the lack of concentration and not giving a fuck about my studies.

I don’t want to tell my readers a lie. Yes it gets easier with meds and therapy but it’s not a life saving operation that saves you; I’m still ill and I still struggle even if it’s not as bad as before. And every inch of pain even if the pain has lessened is always worth fighting for. I want to live a full life but how can I when I’m okay for a month and then I get another month of hell? 

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Bipolar, bipolar disorder, Mental Health, mental illness

Blue Monday is a myth- what if half my Mondays are blue? 

Today I have been extremely angry as a result of the fact that a day has been made on the back of the fact that we are apparently more low today than any other day. But what about every single other day where I could have been more depressed than today? It undermines what I experience almost every single day when I have some sort of mental health related problems. 

It frustrates me that such a pointless day gets so much coverage but when do restaurants and every single public service outlet start caring about Bipolar awareness day and Schizophrenia Awareness? 

Yes I have been blue today but only because I have anxiety and bipolar disorder and because I reacted strongly to other people’s actions. I am not blue because of a stupid fucking day and I have even felt manic today! 

Give me a day that focuses on the genuine challenges that people with mental health problems face and I will start giving a fuck and support you. Until then, to hell with your Blue January day. 

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Bipolar, bipolar disorder, Mental Health, mental illness

Bipolar disorder and vulnerability to rape 

I think it is important that the vulnerability to rape as a result of bipolar disorder is addressed. I have been manic many times now and raped three times and sexually assaulted on other occasions because sometimes when I’m in a manic episode I don’t realise what’s going on and it’s much easier to take advantage of me. 

I didn’t write about it but in the summer I went on a tinder date and the guy got us both extremely drunk by getting us both to have sixteen drinks and all with the purpose to have sex which is made clear by him suggesting to go to a hotel room. I can’t remember what happened right before intercourse so I can’t remember if I consented but I do remember wanting him to stop but not being able to express this as I was too drunk.

Another time at university I was too drunk to consent as I can hardly remember what happened that night and I can’t remember if I consented to giving oral sex but I know anyway that legally I couldn’t consent with the amount of alcohol I had had.

I really think people need to be educated on how alcohol affects your ability to consent but also on not to prey on vulnerable individuals. People sometimes tell me to cut down on my drinking but this doesn’t solve the problem as there will always be someone targeted and anyway if I am manic I will drink more. 

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creative writing, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry

Love is a distant memory

What felt like an eternity of being in love 

Yet now all that’s left is a shared song.

We both live on

But there is no love

In my heart.

You mean nothing to me,

You are dead to me

And yet I still listen to the song 

Like nothing happened,

Like nothing’s changed. 

Except I couldn’t be more changed 

By everything.
Now all that’s left of love is a distant memory.

So far away,

Lost,

Just a speck of dust in my mind.

It seems that time

Has lost

You. 

What once was alive

Now lies dead

In the fragile corners of my mind.
Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

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Bipolar, bipolar disorder, Mental Health, mental illness

To the person who told me my suffering makes me more interesting 

Someone recently told me that my suffering because of having bipolar disorder and other mental health problems makes me a more interesting person. I feel that this remark could in a way almost trivialise what I go through sometimes and how I feel. My bipolar is not romantic! If anything it is an absolute torment and to say otherwise is to ignore the anguish I feel inside me almost daily. Sometimes I am in so much emotional pain that I just want to die and stop living the bipolar life that I live. So please tell me that me apparently being more interesting is worth all of the suffering I endure? It’s a shame that sometimes people seem to put troubled, mentally ill people on a pedestal as if they are somehow more special than others or they even treat us like freaks. Just treat me as a human like I am! I would rather not have bipolar and be apparently less interesting to you than suffer this eternal torment. 

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art, creative writing, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, Uncategorized

Heartbreak series- Was it the right decision?

Time goes by and I keep asking

If it was the right decision.

The anger and the upset hurt my soul

But 10 years is so long

And my heart bleeds for those 10 years.

I know I was so angry

At your denial of the struggles that you hide,

Your denial of your constant unhappiness,

Your denial at your crippling insecurities.

But it hurts me more

Than when I loved that guy.

I don’t cry

But I feel the piercing pain inside-

It’s like a living thing has died.

And yet, just four months and I cried

Over him for a year.

10 years and I can’t seem to find a tear.

Perhaps our tie

Didn’t matter to me.

 

 

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

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