The Scarlet B

I was reading this post on the blog “If You’re Going Through Hell Keep Going” and it really spoke to me. It’s amazing how much people project onto you when they hear you are bipolar. In a way, it can be nice. People believe in it. I remember when I was initially only diagnosed with depression for a few months and felt the pang of shame as I tried to explain to people why I fell out of communication or wasn’t turning in work on time. It somehow still felt my fault. Even when I articulated it well, it still felt as though my explanation was falling on deaf ears, that people still assumed I was just wasn’t trying hard enough or only needed to be cheered up. I got scared anytime I laughed in public, worried people would suddenly think me a liar. People don’t understand depression, largely. They don’t understand how everything can feel overwhelming, that you can understand you need to do something and care deeply for it, but then do nothing. Most people don’t understand what it is to feel as though you’re trapped underwater, flailing around with nothing to push against, working harder than you ever have for anything in your life, and making almost no progress. Continue reading “The Scarlet B”

We pick and choose things from the past, dusting off the context, and tell ourselves this is our narrative.

So it begins…

To be honest, I’m not entirely clear why I’m making this. I suppose that’s clear from the name of this blog though. I want a record for me of everything that’s happening, I guess. Of this adventure that is my alphabet soup of mental conditions. Continue reading “We pick and choose things from the past, dusting off the context, and tell ourselves this is our narrative.”