This was written in December 2015 to my closer friends when I came to terms with myself that I struggled emotionally. My bipolar disorder is not medically certified for reasons stated below but its something I’ve done extensive research on and realised on my own. This is an edit of the raw scribble but isn’t as perfect as how I want it to be so the rawness of this stays very much the same.
note to self: this is where you start to help yourself, by acknowledging and then working around it, stop trying to delete this post and save it again every two weeks.
a open post about depression. mental health week 2015.
0148 thoughts on 11/12/15
too often we write about things we love things we hate things we lose and things we gain. more often than not, we strive for physical goals. no not things like fitness goals and material gains (nothing wrong with that. at all.) we all work towards goals, achievements, things we force ourselves to toil through like studying with our minds. yet, studying is a physical chore – doing the tests for the results – and i wonder what happened to the meaning of learning.
the physical world that we live in — it’s more often related and talked about the ones that our inner selves live in, the mind, the mental world.
if you wish, accept my formal invitation to you to enter my world. you can turn back. really, its alright.
i see you stayed.
HELLO AGAIN! oh and welcome to my world.
if i’ve mentioned that ^ many times or at least enough times in all the conversations we ever had or especially much in the past few weeks regardless of our friendships, well chances are, you’re about to know more.
note to self: edited out three lines above this tldr: you were tired and decided to freestyle. also, fear.
its a long boring journey to navigate but don’t say i didn’t warn us.
DISCLAIMER: THE FOLLOWING WORDS ARE WRITTEN ON THE SPUR OF THE MOMENT AND WILL SOUND LIKE WHAT A DERANGED PERSON WOULD SAY. i assure you i’m mentally sane, although talking about myself in third person and to a invisible live audience is very strange.
my world. (name)’s world.
note to self: tldr of paragraph deleted: examples of daily behavior you exhibit. mostly about complaining about tuition and not being good enough and too tired.
the past 2 weeks was like hell freezing over for me. through deliberate isolation and reading and acting like everything was REALLY ok, i then opened myself up to a vastly contrasting perspective, one that would lead up to and last for so much more.
maybe i’ll talk about it in the future. but for now lets just act like how a fifteen(?) FOURTEEN, year old should. innocent young and confused. right? WRONG. i sound like a mental patient. wow. that’s nice.
it’s not something to be proud of, and not many people know. and i want to give the world (you) this part of me so i’ll stop impulsively doing things to hurt myself.
i have bipolar disorder.
bipolar disorder. kelsey from buzzfeed said: if there’s a definite diagnosis, there should be a cure.
the threat of unpredictability the scariest part when something depressing happens to someone with depression. again, kelsey’s words that i wouldn’t change to make it any better.
“talk to someone. tell your parents. see a counselor/psychologist” -everyone
it’s not that easy. my parents have mentioned many times that they’ll throw me out of the house if i ever tell them something like this, and before you start, hear me out. i did try and let’s just leave the outcome as them telling me i could get out.
one of the teachers in school knew i was struggling emotionally but she thought i was stressing out over the numbers on my test papers and asked me to see the school counselor. and i’m really thankful she wanted to help me but i can’t.
a close friend who saw the counselor shared with me that because no matter how much you beg, the counselor never truly listens and sooner or later everything becomes a ‘case’ and you realise everything is NOT going to work so you pretend everything is really OK and there, issue resolved!! it doesn’t and didn’t help that she shared how then the teachers and subsequently one’s parents would be informed of this – the latter which i never wanted to happen. i hate the idea of people treating me with caution and i think it’s ironic to say i want to be treated equally with the rest. but i am a student after all.
don’t get me wrong. i’m not trying to be melodramatic, and im not trying to. this isn’t my usual rants of how braces REALLY suck but something i’ve tried so hard to cover and hide over the past 2 years.
at times it feels like everyone’s in blue and white and im the only one in red and yellow, that because of this sick label and difference will people treat me differently as if i were a kicked puppy OR SOMETHING.
for a long time, i sat in denial, telling myself that someone like me shouldn’t be subjected to something like this. bipolar disorder is a mental disorder that causes mood swings, characterized by severe depression and mania. ie. you can come across as melodramatic. a lot. i took tests online, researching so much to convince myself that a thirteen year old was just going through change and it was just a phase. but then, the extremities happened.
you know how you when you swing a pendulum, when the bob is like a pirate’s ship when it goes really high on one side and before you know it its on the other, just equally high? yes, that. just that the pirate ship pendulum bob was me and that the peaks were the ends of my emotional spectrum. these emotional changes and mood swings happened so frequently that i didn’t recognise who i was anymore.
for months, i wondered who i was because i sure as hell didn’t feel in tune with my body nor did i feel like i was (name). together with nightmares that lasted many months and still today, i felt? feel? a physical sense of detachment from my emotional self.
sure, i did feel happy sometimes, but when you keep wearing a mask 24/7, you start to forget what is true happiness. and also, to fake it to the point whereby i would start externally/physically do things like bite all my nails till they were crazy short (last year) and lie to my parents when they came home early and saw me crying .
i kept having to keep pretending to be happy when i didn’t feel fixed or any more happy. people around me commented i changed. people came and went.
but above all the question stood: what exactly is the price of happiness?
“realise how at times we are like carved pumpkins. smiling on the outside and hollow on the inside” – friend N captioning a picture of me (fantastic caption btw)
and that’s a perfect example of how i feel when i’m depressed, because to me, depression is when the sadness ebbs away, its this monster that stays in the hollow smiling self that i am that tells me i’m worth nothing that i don’t deserve such great people that i’m not good enough, that tells me, together with my circumstances, that failure, is not an option.
every day is different. i do get “good days bad days and really bad days”, and the threat of unpredictability the scariest part when something depressing happens to someone with depression. and after a long long time, i started to admit i had bipolar disorder.
when you aren’t feeling physically well, you go to a doctor. right?
when you aren’t feeling mentally right, you see a doctor.
i was afraid of telling my friends that sometimes i felt like dying, physically and mentally. kelsey’s video motivated me to write all of this. and (friend S). and a whole lot of people i’ve met in MUNs, strangers, classmates, ex schoolmates etcetc
i’ve learnt so much from you, be it your confidence, optimism or my appreciation of your sparkling personality.
oh. one more thing to say.
i’m sorry that i’m not perfect that i’m not smart that i’m useless and sometimes depressed and manic. i’m sorry that i sometimes fight back, that i sit at playgrounds a lot and that i sometimes destroy things when i’m really mad. i’m sorry that i isolate myself and that i cut people out when i don’t know what to do.
over these two weeks of reflection, i learnt that it was ok to talk about it, like i am now. i am terrified. but i want to change this and stop this for myself before i do something really stupid like kill myself.
i don’t deny having almost attempted to kill myself a few times, but i’m much better today (well hopefully) and i never want to spiral out of control again. some people may get themselves together but i don’t think i’m as strong or as good as them.
hope. what a misleading drug in itself.
so. the past two weeks. i told myself that i had to do some rational thinking. and i did.
let’s take a step back (name). let’s get outside your head and let’s reflect.
it sounds terribly dumb and stupid now say what i’ve come to learn in these two weeks of 0237 thoughts, isolation, nightmares, arguments in my head: that it should(?) be ok to be not ok.
and, after saying so much, well, to me, it still wasn’t ok.
but then. you happened. and everyone else that’s here. and i’m beginning to get more hope to figure my problem out.
with depression, your age is a meaningless quantifier. and more importantly, age shouldn’t be a determinant (said by a new friend) for me to create MY own hope, to seek my own cure, pain reliever. my own happiness.
“i cannot hold myself accountable for what happens to my depression (and anxiety), that i don’t have control over, but i CAN hold myself accountable for the strength of trying.”
thank you for reading this, for letting me give this big part of me away to the rest of the world to guard it for me so i’ll stop impulsively doing things to hurt myself and everyone around me. because my isolation is selfish.
and thank you buzzfeed, especially kelsey for sharing her story for giving me these words that filled the spaces i created when i couldn’t express myself. because now i feel great.
the journey of self love and to try and be constantly truly happy, is not going to be easy, but for me, i’ll keep trying.