Seven years

Seven years ago today, I almost died. Seven years ago I survived, I lived. It still gets to me, like today, still brings me down. The anxiety of the memories, anxiety, and fear of it all coming back to reality once again, traveling back in time. I had a therapy group today where I was... Continue Reading →

Learning a new me

Two weeks, two more weeks I just spent in the hospital, just about five weeks after getting out the first time around. I was going to start but typing out my journal entries from my hospital stay. There aren’t many as I didn’t write a lot of the time, but I decided maybe not. See... Continue Reading →

A New Battle

I saw my Doctor on the 31st of December. I didn’t tell him I was depressed or suicidal, I didn’t tell him that I have been in a high mood. Instead, I told him all the things I was experiencing, experiences I thought was the symptom of bipolar disorder referred to as paranoia or delusions.... Continue Reading →

I am not who I use to be

October 17th- November 21st 2012, and every year following it is the anniversary of my attempt to take my life, and the time span of my hospitalization. Last year I decided on each anniversary I would get a tattoo to symbolize this part of my life, something that has true meaning to this aspect of... Continue Reading →

Kicking suicide’s ass

This one has taken a long time to write, I just want to make sure I am sensitive throughout, and really have the right wording. Sometimes it just lingers, other times takes over me. No matter how stable I get, I know it is always following me, in the background, always one of my shadows.... Continue Reading →

The increasing of medication..

This is kind of a spur of the moment kind of post, and also sort of convenient timing since I just added a post about medication, thus being able to add something further around the topic. Today I realized how I really need to change my mindset around getting dosages raised and new prescriptions. Some... Continue Reading →

My Relationship With Medication

I have a love-hate relationship with medication. I see the benefits, but also can’t ignore the downsides. It supports and even saves me from my worst, it is there when I need it, and I know that it is necessary. Though it can bring shame, annoyance, and a harsh reality that this is my life,... Continue Reading →

Coming To Terms With My Illness

At age 12, my onset of bipolar had started to reveal itself, meanwhile, I held anxiety for most of my childhood. My first episode was a long span of depression, I started to self-harm and this was when my first suicidal ideations came into effect. I isolated myself, lost motivation and stopped doing the activities... Continue Reading →

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