The Self-Destructive Mind

Imagine that your brain feels numb and tingly, like you’re coming down from a high, but you’re still lucid and sober. You try not to fall off of the proverbial ladder, as sanity blurs. The world feels out of control and life feels overwhelming and unmanageable, but looks normal by all appearances. Your perception is all off, every little noise, every little thing bothers you but you don’t know why. It’s not just sudden energy followed by a depressive episode and a crash, there’s nuance to it.

I can feel the pressure building inside as I lose my mind, anxiety chopping my brain like helicopter blades. But I’m going down, not up. Thoughts of accidentally harming someone plague me; did I hit someone with my car? Do I need to go back and check? Was that actually a pothole? I am the insane asylum, but there’s no containing me. Energy escalates, as emotion becomes too powerful to feel. I sink in my seat feeling the doom take me. I wanted no part of any of this, but here I am thinking about every regret, every wrong turn I made in my life.

I don’t think you would want to live in my mind. It’s too messy, chaotic, contradictory, overwhelming, egotistical and self-defeating there. The rage of one thousand suns consume me and I feel the tensity in my chest as I battle against myself. “I’m going to send that angry text and it’s going to feel like an accomplishment, because I destroyed you!”. Thoughts of crying enemies soothes me, I am ready for battle and you’ll be shocked when I let you know exactly how I feel in that moment! If you were here right now, there wouldn’t be much talking, just me fighting off the police because I don’t care what happens until it actually does. Then the bargaining begins; I’m afraid of consequences, I need quick reassurance, but no amount of it is enough to quench the thirst of my anxious brain!

You haven’t responded and I’m already thinking about how bad I feel, about how I’m going to apologize when you respond (if you respond), try to explain myself and make it up to you this time, somehow. You didn’t deserve that. You still haven’t responded, what must you be thinking right now? I sit with it like a pig in shit, I might as well be a pig because I seem to like messes alot. So much that I create them because every person or thing in this world makes me nervous. You’re my best friend but also the one I want to humiliate and eliminate. No, that’s going too far, what am I becoming? I’ve gone too far to make a U-turn, it’s straight ahead or nothing so I might as well go harder just in case you didn’t get the message the first time.

I panic, my life feels like a car losing control on a road full of ice. I’d be crashing into cars if this was outside of my mind in real life. I try to grip the steering wheel to regain control but every move I make worsens the ordeal. I’m failing and I know it. I just want to cry and make the last twenty-four hours go away. I never thought if I skipped my medication, everything would be so bad today! I was up all night, too full of energy to sleep, now I’m waking up late. The commitments and responsibilities I made, I didn’t mean to, but I skipped ‘em by mistake. Now I’ve pissed someone off and rightfully so. They expect better of me and I can’t act like I didn’t know. No excuses, now I have to own it. It sucks and feels tough being stuck in a rut and then being trapped six feet below it.

I’m tired but somehow I still have some energy, though I’m restless and feeling weak. The intensity of my emotions burn me up from the inside out. I wish there was some way to escape, some other route. I think of alcohol and drugs and promiscuous sex and somehow I think that’s better than just taking my damn meds. I’ve always hated my diagnosis, it feels like a label inked on my forehead. The only way to escape it, is to wish I was dead. But I’m not brave enough to make the move, I don’t want to hurt anyone I love, that just feels too cruel. So I sit and I wait and sometimes I pray just for the pain and confusion to go away.

I’m moody and irritable and scared and overwhelmed. Every decision I make has consequences and all of them lead to Hell. I’ve already gone too far, might as well finish burning down my life and head to the nearest bar. I’ll drink ‘till I get drunk and numb the thoughts that come anyway. It doesn’t matter what I do, I’m still screwed either way. If I could go somewhere where nobody knows my name, maybe I could get control of my life again rather than sit around thinking about the pain. And if I go to that place where nobody knows who I am, there’s no opportunity to disappoint anyone else. I’m alone and trapped inside my own head. Filled with sadness, rage, pain and massive amounts of dread. This is what it’s like to be bipolar, you feel like the opposite of who you know you are. If this continues much longer, it won’t be long before I’m behind prison bars.