[kitkat1089]

I’m sad. Why am I so sad? My heart hurts. It’s beating too fast. I can’t breathe. My thoughts are racing. Is that just something I heard? “You have racing thoughts, because your bi polar” “Did a doc, mom, or commercial. Who am I? What am I? A girl? A person? A body? He loves me. And I’m crazy, or, am I? Am I? Do I fix it? Will who I am, or, am not, disappear? Do I even like myself? Sometimes. I still feel like a loser, an outcast. No one wanted me. But now they want me. My boys love me. He loves me. Why isn’t that good enough now? Can they tell at work? She can. I think they all can. Should I be quiet? Should I stay still? Should I go? Should I stay? I don’t want to talk to anyone. They judge. I can’t talk to a therapist. It takes too much time. How do I explain how or why I hurt? I don’t want to talk about it with a stranger. I want my mom, or do I? I want to tell him, but I’m scared he will use it against me. Like everyone has. “You’re crazy” or should I say, “bi polar”? I can’t help my self-destruction not matter how much I think I can. I don’t want to be me, or do I? How have I fooled everyone? He knows he has to. Everyone has to know. I can’t breathe. Is this even the truth? I already want to do something else. I want to cry, but can’t. My heart is racing. I can’t breathe. I’m worried, I’m angry I’m writing all of this. I want to stop. I’m writing my thoughts to look at what I think. {Cannot read sentence} I’m unorganized. I’m scared. I’m nervous. They hate me. Who hates me? She hates me. Why? I’m sorry. I don’t care. This is stupid. Why can’t I cry?. Please happen now. I’m scared. I don’t want people. I want to go home. I am home. My mind has a thousand thoughts. I can’t concentrate. Why? My soul hurts. What do I need? I just want people to like me. All I wanted was to cry. I think I feel worse. This is stupid. My thoughts are stupid. I want something. What do I want? I ask that a lot. What do I want? I need to give myself something, but what? Why do I suck? I hate me. ****. ****. Stupid. This is all stupid. I’m fine. But I still want something. What do I want? I think I’ll stop. I think I’m ok. I still want to cry. I still want something but I can breathe. I have a lot to do. I have to clean. I don’t want that. I have to do school work. I don’t want to. I should at least look at it, but I’m not going to. I wanted him. Why? He’s a loser. I hate that I got myself into drama. Secret drama. Now I am scared it will blow up any minute. It will. I know it. It always does. I want to stop it before it does. I’m going to read this now.

[BlueInanna]

Aw sweet soul , that's in words how I can never describe what goes on in my head sometimes during mania. Do you have a doctor to help you get some relief? A racing mind is torturous. I see your suffering, I see a sensitive smart woman. Sending love

[Keegan2015]

Man I can relate to this stream of consciousness a lot. Racing / catastrophizing thoughts can be really really upsetting and aggravating. It can be so hard (even impossible at times!) to just shut your mind off and relax.

Have you tried deep breathing, aroma therapy, guided meditation tapes, or anything like that? I just bought some incense, made some tea, and put on a relaxing album (Tomorrow's Harvest by Boards of Canada) and am winding down for the night, maybe it could work for you too.

Do you take any medication? That can help as well.

[BeyondtheRainbow]

See if this helps any:
https://31.media.tumblr.com/b1406ea4...v5xlo1_500.gif

It helps me slow down sometimes. When I remember to use it.

[kitkat1089]

Thank you for your kind words. Re reading this feels weird to me. I normally scribble my thoughts on paper as fast as I can. Most of the time I can't even read what I wrote until it gets to the end after I have calmed down. I shred the paper into a thousand pieces and then throw it away.

I am terrified of talking to my fiancé about it. Every time I have a mood swing it is because I am bipolar. When am I allowed to be angry? Normal people get agitated too. I think. Maybe it is how I express my agitation?

I have spent enough time with myself to see that I am in a manic phase. I try so hard to control it. I strip what I think to a bare minimum when I am talking to others. What is happening in my head is a firestorm of emotions and thoughts.

It wouldn't be so bad, but it bubbles out of me in destructive ways. Piercings, tattoos, drug use, and drinking. At one point in my life it was sex. I don't even know the number of people I slept with during my last mania. A lot.

The sick thing is that I think I like the mania. I mean I could definitely do without the whirlwind of thoughts. But during the mania. I love my ability to "put myself out there". I am feel wanted - probably also in my head, but I feel like people like me more. Up until the point when I am alone. Then I feel as if I am destroying everything.

As for meditation. I have tried. I feel if my body is almost vibrating. I sit alone in silence. I try to clear my mind, but my body revolts. It feels as if my blood is vibrating in my skin. I can hear my heartbeat. It is too fast. Every sound I hear agitates me. A bit chirping. A clock ticking. The wind. Why is everything so loud when I need to be quiet?

Medication. There is no doubt in my mind I should be medicated. I don't want the stigma. I already feel as if I defend every action I take. I don't want to confirm to others that I am bipolar. Also, I don't think I want to kill the mania. My brightest ideas come from these periods. Believe it or not, I have excelled in work due to nights of mania. Plagued by insomnia I have a lot of time to think of work. I scribble my ideas like I do my thoughts. I reread them the next morning and put the good ideas into play. I was given a promotion last week. Do I kill off that part of me? Would I still be the same person?

Thank you for reading. I feel better knowing my struggles aren't as isolated as I thought.

[kitkat1089]

I am calm. On the outside, I am quiet and I move through bodies undetected. On the inside I am going down in a fury, that can only be described as Dante's Inferno. "A Great Event" as I like to call them.

What is this? It is actions I take to self destruct my life. Always a series of events. I know I shouldn't take them. But I will. Smoke Pot? Why not? Drink why not? Skip work, school, family memories? Done. They start out small, taking a day off here, missing an assignment there. I will skip a soccer practice for my son occasionally. Once in a while is not bad. The always become more frequent. It always ends with the catastrophic choice.

My last episode lead me to the bottom of prostitution. I became a stripper that would earn extra cash in the back.

For real when women worry about strip clubs. They have good reason too.

While stripping, I had already stopped paying all my bills (just another part that leads up to "A Great Event") and was waiting to be kicked out of my apartment. My son was living with my mom. It was suppose to be 2 weeks. I let it go on Six months. SIX MONTHS before I asked for him back.

Did I save any money? No. I was making about 800 a week, working 3 days a week. Every dollar was spent indulging in my wants. Clothes and mostly drugs. I chose to do what I did. Every act. Once in again I would stop to tell myself, "This is effed up". I am not going to lie. I didn't care. Not once.

This even led me to be a stripper-prostitute-homeless-druggie, who didn't have their son. Like I said, this transpired over a period of year. What will my next one be?

So I say, with conviction I know what I am feeling. "A Great Event" is beginning.

[kitkat1089]

I am anxious. I can feel my heart beating. I am uncomfortable. Why? I don't have the slightest clue. I want something. But what do I want. He is sitting right next to me and occasionally he will look at me. I.e. hat does he want from me? Does he know I am panicking? I finally told him I was bipolar. I said the words out loud for the first time in 5 years. He told me he didn't care. But now he is pushing a doctor. I knew it would happen. In my new found honesty I told him that I don't want to nor do I have any intention on going to one. Not yet, I said. Implying I would eventually. Which I think in my heart I will. But it's not happening soon. Not even within the next year. My hopes is that he will try to stop me from ruining my life. Which I will. I always do. I am trying to ignore the thought of impulsive at almost every moment of my day. I have given into smoking cigarettes and now pot. People do it everyday. It's not crazy. But I know giving into my impulses are a trigger to give into more. I stopped working 10 hours of overtime at work. I have stopped caring I feel I get a bad grade on a test or assignment. It always starts small. I can breath normal again I can feel myself pushing the thoughts of panic disappear. ..