This was written during my first hospital stay after suicide attempt. Most of it still stands now.
If you ask most people suffering from Bipolar Disorder which phase they prefer, a majority of them would say the manic phase. I suffer terribly from the deep depression. I don’t get out of bed except to eat and to spend some time with my son and dad or if I have another engagement or one of my many doctor appointments.
I lie there in bed and the thoughts run through my mind: get up, no, get up and do something, no, okay I am going to get up in 5 minutes…5 minutes later still lying in bed. I give up on that and lie there.
Next I start worrying about my future. It looks pretty bleak from this view. I am getting older, I am on Social Security Disability and don’t make enough to live on, how am I going to survive and live on my own. I live with my Dad right now and so does my son.
I worry about my children, I am a mom I can’t help it. You don’t just stop worrying about them when they are adults, just ask my Dad (my mom has passed on, but she worried too).
I worry about the depression worsening and that I will go back to wishing I was dead. That upsets the family and friends. I have learned to tell my doctor and the nurse who prescribes my medications rather than obsessing about it. I tried it once. It was not a pleasant experience. I upset my family causing tears and extra worry about me. I ended up locked in a psyche ward and man that wasn’t any fun. I got put on medications that made things worse, but now my nurse has me under much better control. She changed what the hospital’s psychiatrist put me on, but we are still tweaking and I am still very depressed although not considering suicide.
I had a slight manic phase a few months ago. It was not a wild one. I was still able to control it, but it gave me energy and I got out of bed and I worked really hard on my hoard. I became active in my online groups on hoarding and cluttering. I am a low level hoarder, but I still had piles of stuff on the floor (still do) and you walked through small paths and every flat surface was covered in a deep pile of junk and I even lost some of my meds in it. That is not good. Now that I am depressed again it is going back to the way it was. Having my depression running rampant or stabilized is not working for me. I need just a slight mania to give me energy and interest in the world around me.