I started this blog a year ago today. Hard to believe a year has passed since I had a violent and devastating mental break from reality and tried to kill myself, ending up hauled into the hospital by police. I felt the need, later, to write it all down. The aftermath was intense as well. I stated in the blog’s first post (a sticky) that I had no advice, only the pain that I needed to process through this blog. My mental health history inspired it all. Eventually I “finished” most of the tale up to the present moment and published it in book form, called In the Darkness of Hope on Amazon. I didn’t mean for a book to be published, but after being pushed and pushed by friends and Dr Black, I went ahead and did it. It is truly out there now. No going back, and that is a huge change. It’s not like I’m enthusiastic about it – I’ve been offered a Facebook ad campaign – but it’s a marked departure from my previously extremely guarded nature. Even my mental hospital medical records report I am “guarded.”
Even in the last year, I changed. I realized I have more in common with the other mental hospital patients and my patients in Sacred Heart than I ever will my coworkers. I’m still trying to come to terms with my history, who I am. I carry my diagnosis around – a blessing and a curse. At least I know what it is, there’s a name and a criterion of conditions and symptoms. But I won’t wear it on my sleeve. I see that on social media a lot, a sort of dry begging for sympathy. I carry it hidden and heavy, still ashamed and frustrated.
Right now, in this moment, I am high energy and highly efficient. I feel smarter than everyone around me. I am not eating much and only sleeping about 4-6 hours a day with heavy medication. I am hearing a lot of racket in my head. Banging, honking, knocking…the knocking is the most unnerving.
But I’m curiously apathetic to it. In the past, I’ve been very distressed by banging and voices, holding my head in my hands and begging them to stop. I don’t talk to anyone about the voices and noises… even when Dr Black or my prescriber ask about them, I feel awkward and nervous. It’s like if I talk about them, they’ll come back as though called upon. But right now the occasional knocking and banging is an annoyance. I’m not overtly distressed.
One Year Later
One response to “One Year Later”
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Well done you for making a truly difficult and life changing experience into an inspirational and powerful message. Well done to publish your book, I myself have tried to write a book, im on my fourth now but none of them are long enough or good enough to be published. They too, are about my experiences with bipolar, opinions, experiences with society and the people I know or thought I knew, and the general consensus on how bipolar has changed my life but I think it is a good thing as it’s highlighted what is important in life. I concur with you that people don’t understand what we are going through, I say “you don’t get it unless you’ve got it”, and that rings true. I started writing in an attempt to cope with psychosis episodes. Started off with a solitary word, which then became 2, then 3, 4, a sentence, a paragraph and then here I am writing this in response to your post having written 27 songs, 3 short books (soon to be 4), started my blog and I have turned a negative situation into a positive one and I really hope it continues. It’s so so so heartwarming to hear that people like yourself have been able to achieve something monumental in respect to the impact that it makes as it resonates with so so many people who you don’t realise it helps. Thank you for sharing your inspiring story and I will check your book out on Amazon. Have a wonderful day 👌
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Documenting my journey through the mental health system 
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