holding it in

I know this isn't much of a start or an introduction, but I suppose I'll start off by explaining a little about this blog. I want to write about the conditions I am forced to live with. I call them the three B's - bipolar disorder, bulimia, and bloating (or Irritable Bowel Syndrome).

Today's post is about the bipolar disorder I have to live with. It's now 12.53am, and the past two days have been eventful. You see, I never asked for bipolar disorder to happen to me; I was chosen instead. All my life, it has been my constant companion.

I don't want to start at the very beginning, but I will write as I go along, and see where this takes me. I want people to know more about my condition, and how it affects me and the people around me, especially the ones I love.

The most recent attack happened on Sunday. On Sunday, I woke up feeling low. I tried to shrug the feeling away but I just couldn't. See, the funny thing is, even as I'm writing this, I have somehow blocked off the memory of the events that have taken place. I simply cannot remember. I have to really squeeze my memory to try to remember the sequence of events. So I woke up on Sunday and felt really low. This is the kind of low one feels when feeling squeamish and sick in the guts. To avoid feeling horrible, I tried to put my mind off things by working. I thought that if I cleaned the house, I would be able to put the feeling aside. But I couldn't. I cried in the arms of my fiance, JJ, but what really ticked me off was the moment when I complained about my weight, he said, "You are not gaining weight. You are a constant 54 (kg)."

God knows what happened next but something like a time bomb just went off. I kicked him hard and a struggle ensued. I wanted to open the door to the balcony and jump off but he tried to stop me. That made me even madder. He said, "Grow up. Stop having all these fits". That really upset me even more. I knew I had to get away, and I locked myself in the room.

Suddenly it felt as if I could make a rational decision. I called my friend and told her to pick me up so I could check myself into the hospital. I thought a few days away would fix things or make me feel better. Then she came, and I was reluctant of staying away. But I went to the hospital anyway with the hopes of seeing my psychiatrist. They couldn't summon him, and I didn't feel like going home. The thought of seeing JJ repulsed me. It made me sick to the stomach. I was hurt and didn't want to face him.

We went to watch a play instead, and I went home, thinking I would just ignore him. But he didn't leave me alone and asked me a whole bunch of questions instead. So I lost it, and blurted it all out. "I have been throwing up for an entire week everytime after I ate", "I hate you, and I feel sick when I see you", "You disgust me". I ran out the door and my mum called. A lengthy conversation didn't make me feel better, it just made me feel worse. A friend came to my rescue, and we sat in his car for hours just talking. I felt better, but this wasn't the first time I felt that way. It would come and go, come and go, without my control. This was something I have very little control of.

Everyone says we go through ups and downs every now and then, but it is hard to explain to people what I feel. I don't control the ups or downs, they come as they like and go as they like. I could wake up one morning feeling numb, then feeling ecstatic, then going from happy to sad like there's a switch in my head. I would do things one day, and wake up the next day feeling regretful over what I've done. I had my nose pierced three weeks ago during a bout of high; I knew getting a piercing with a gun was dangerous, but I did it anyway. I couldn't rationalise when I am riding on my high, or even on my low. I have thought of suicide, swallowing pills just to make it all go away. I would think that if I died, I would go someplace else where everyone is happy. But who am I kidding? Soon after, the door opens and I have to face the world again. I have tried to look for others like me out there, but I have yet to know another (at least not very well). I have looked up "support groups" online, but all I read is about people who have to give up their jobs and lives to deal with this condition. This is not what I want for myself.

I know famous people like Vincent van Gogh and Virginia Woolf lived with it, and created beautiful works. But let's look at Vincent; he cut off his own ear and sent it to his lover, and Virginia; she drowned herself to death by putting pebbles in her pockets. I don't want to end up like either of them, even if it meant I would produce great works in my life (which, due to my low self confidence, I doubt every day). I need people to know that there are people like me in this world, and we try everyday to be happy but it's just harder. Believe me, if we had a choice, we would want to be happy.

Perhaps it is not sympathy that we want. This is not self-pity. I simply want people to understand that sometimes, I really don't have a choice. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night crying and I cannot understand why. I only know one thing's for sure: I have to live with it, or die with it. I want to be cured, and I'm hoping that this blog will chronicle my conquering of this disease, and if I will never be fully cured, I hope that people like me are able to read this blog and understand themselves better, and for people who love them to try to know what they are facing. Perhaps all I hope from this is some awareness. I am hopeful; I want to be cured, and I want to write (hopefully) every day until I finally am able to be cured of this condition.

I want to be hopeful. I want to live. Today, I managed to hold in food for the first time in at least one week. I ate a meal and naturally instincts kicked in to throw up, but with support from JJ, I managed to sit down, sip a little water, while telling myself not to. It's not easy, everyday's a struggle, but I know I will try. As you can see, today's note ends on a high, but I dare not say the same for tomorrow. But I will just be hopeful.

Goodnight, world. And I hope that if you read this and know someone living with bipolar disorder or bulimia, give your loved one/friend/family member a hug, because they really need it. More than anything, they need your patience and understanding and love.

Love,
Sharon