Letter from the past

CW: abusive relationships, PTSD, rape

I got a letter today from my abusive ex-boyfriend, J. I’ve blocked him on everything possible, and he finds me on fucking LinkedIn. I just wrote and a deleted a sentence about how shitty it is that on my good streak, he comes back and how I cannot catch a break. But I don’t really feel that way. I feel lucky that this is happening now. I couldn’t imagine having this hit me a month ago, I bet I would have begun to cycle within the first 12 hours of reading it. Hopefully, I still don’t start. I feel OK right now.

One of the primary triggers of my episodes is stress, and I would definitely call my PTSD stressful. My whole world feels more dangerous suddenly. Cars seem closer to me when I drive, men who look my way slightly too long make me shake, every creak and shadow in my apartment is a burglar who will kill me. Every time I’m in public my imagination is 10 steps ahead of my thinking brain and I can’t stop picturing every man I pass suddenly turning around and stabbing or grabbing me. I can’t turn it off.

I never went through experiences where I feared for my life, but I spent four years perpetually fearing anger and violence. I could never predict what would set him off. At the time, I believed that was because of what J told me, that I was dumb and immature and a bad girlfriend and if I were better, then none of that would happen. It was all my fault, I made him angry and I was so lucky that he put up with me.  Continue reading “Letter from the past”

Do I ever get to be okay?

I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m just a fine person who takes medication three times a day. I’m fine.

The pills are just a thing I do right now, they aren’t real to me. They aren’t potent little bombs on my brain chemistry. And yet, there I was, hot and cold and seeing stars with my head over a toilet this morning, unable to move.

It turns out if you try to take a missed dose or two at once, withdrawal and uptake at the same time can be a bitch. Reality took the form of a cold shower over full clothing as I groaned on the floor and asked myself, “do I ever get to be okay?”

Bipolar: What Works for Me

To my Bipolar friends and those supporting the someone else’s fight,

Comrades? Peers? Partners? Whatever you want to call yourselves. I know this blog gets read by people living with bipolar and I’ve been having a good streak for the last few months, so I thought I would share what I’m doing in case it helps even one of you. I have no idea what part of this actually helps bipolar versus just helps me feel better, but obviously, I endorse all of them (:

Continue reading “Bipolar: What Works for Me”

[cheesy long-time-no-post title]

Hello, friends.

Are you my friends? I doubt you’re my enemies. I wonder if you exist like you existed 6 months ago. Well, if you’ve paid attention to my life at all, I’d like to imagine you want an update since I want to feel wanted. In summary:

I bipolared quite a bit the last 6 months with lots of baby manic and depressive phases. I didn’t have any sex for 5 months (which honestly is a red flag for me as a deviation from typical behavior) then did about 15 times in one week with 2 ish partners. I got no new piercings or tattoos. People who acted like they wanted to help didn’t actually help and usually made it about themselves and sucked. My life was largely together despite this and I am just about graduated from college. I kept in good contact with all important adults and told them how I was doing the entire time. I just need to pass this one bitch of a physics class (which I’m only worried about because the professor is so strict and has decided to nitpick everything I submit since I skip his courses since his book helped me more). I started a new medication last month, Aripiprazole, and it’s been a small miracle, the baby depressive phases went away and my PTSD is the best it’s been for years, despite having a retraumatizing event happen in April.

I am okay. The only times I haven’t been okay was when other people were threats to my safety and other people helped me be safe again. I am healthy and when things were hard I was lucky enough to have a huge safety net of people and systems set up so the minimum was possible to achieve my goals in some way (like graduating on time).

I am lucky to be alive and have my family and friends. I just haven’t written about all of the speed bumps lately (and there have been plenty) because I am perpetually overwhelmed by my workload which I am avoiding even now as I write this. I am almost at the end though. Then I am free to find a job at my own pace because I have a part time job and am living out of my mom’s house because I am a good millennial. I can sleep and work 50 hours a week and have hobbies and actually go back to writing! I’m so excited for my life right now!

I guess I just needed to bitch first.

Love,
Natasha