#mdd been making my life hell more than normal

[astralsys]

I'm kinda just not been feeling that great my episode just keeps getting worse and worse and idk what to do to make myself feel better. feels like no one really likes me as a person just feeling really bad and lonely…. I have a vacation coming up hopefully things will get better. also memory’s still been getting worse not a good sign.

[thevampiresiren]

Lullaby

Min Yoongi x depressed!Reader

Summary: You've been hiding your struggles with your clinical depression and anxiety disorders from Yoongi, scared of being a clingy girlfriend. Yoongi comes home early to show you how he knows where you're coming from and will always be there for you.

Word Count: 1620

Genre: Angst/Fluff

WARNINGS: Cursing, Mentions of MDD (Major Depressive Disorder) and anxiety disorders. (Lyrics to the song do sound like its talking about suicide, but the song wasn't originally supposed to be about mental health)

A/N: This is one of my favorite Nickelback songs and it helps me when I myself have depressive episodes. It just had Yoongi trying to help someone with depression written all over it to me. Also this is only my second fanfic so try to cut me some slack😅

Well, I know the feeling

And there ain't no healing

Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge

From cutting yourself with the jagged edge

You're not quite sure what offically started it. All you knew was that your chest was aching, you felt nauseous, you were shaking, and had tears quietly running down your face. You knew you were becoming stressed with this new job of yours, but you ended up just pushing the stress back down like you always did. Well, your depression and anxiety had other plans for you. You ended up just putting your cell phone on vibrate, just wanting silence. Part of you wanted to call your boyfriend. He understood more than anyone what is was like having a depressive episode. It was one of the many things you and Yoongi had in common and one of the many reasons you fell in love with each other. Being able to understand each other's struggles and helping the other out when it became too much.

I'm telling you that, it's never that bad

Take it from someone who's been where you're at

The bigger part of you knew how happy Yoongi was that he was able to start being with the guys again after his surgery. You didn't have the heart to pull him away from his brothers when they were so happy to be with each other again. You reached out for Holly on the bed, pulling him close. Burying your face into his soft, brown, curly, fur; you allowed your tears to fall onto him. Holly began gently kissing your face, like he was trying to wipe your tears. You smiled at him before gently closing your eyes trying to relax.

Laid out on the floor, and you're not sure you can take this anymore

Yoongi knew something was going on with you for the past two days. You were going to bed earlier, eatting less, and  a lot more quiet. You said it was because you were tired and just stressed  from your new job. He would have believed you. But now that you weren't answering any of his texts or calls (or anyone else's for that matter), he knew it wasn't just "stress". He tried not worrying but what was he supposed to do? He ended up leaving the studio early, telling Namjoon and the rest of the guys that something was up and he needed to head home.

So just give it one more try to a lullaby, And turn this up on the radio. If you can hear me now I'm reaching out, To let you know that you're not alone

He tried calling you once again only for it go to voice-mail for the umpteenth time.

"Babygirl, please call me. I'll be home in less than five mintues. I just need to know that you're alright. I love you, okay?". He took a deep breath. He knew you were going to be okay, but he didn't know how long your depression was acting up or where your head was at.

And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell, 'Cause I can't get you on the telephone. So just close your eyes. Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby. Your very own lullaby

When Yoongi walked into the apartment, he didn't even think about taking his shoes off. He just went straight to the bedroom looking for you. He saw your phone abandoned on the couch and picked it up for you. Yoongi came up to the door and heard your muffled sniffles behind the door.

"Jagiya, can I come in?" He asked softly, not wanting to startle you. He heard a quiet "mhm" and gently opened the door. You had Holly underneath your head using him as a pillow, giving him gentle pets. Your face was stained in tears (along with Holly's fur), hair was a mess, and in nothing but your favorite red and black flannel of his with the skull on the back. Even though you were a wreck right now, you were still breath taking to him. Yoongi walked over to his side of the bed.

He sat down bedside you looking as your back faced him, rubbing your shoulder; making your shoulders slightly relax. It hurt him more than anything seeing you like this, it always did even though it didn't happen often and he always knew you would be okay.

"Can you look at me?" He said firm but gently. You stopped petting Holly and rolled over facing your boyfriend. You were scared that he would be upset for some reason but he looked worried and even sad. He held his arms out for you and gently pulled you to his chest protectively, rubbing your back soothingly. He let you cried into his chest as your body shook, tears staining his white tee as you held onto it like your life depended on it while he kissed your forehead and shoulder.

Please let me take you out of the darkness and into the light

He wasn't going to push you right now, but he needed to know what was going on. Once you calmed down and had your breathing under control he asked you what was going on.

"I wasn't lying when I said I was stressed over this job, but I guess it was effecting me more than I thought.". Yoongi nodded his while moving pieces of your hair out of your face.

"I don't know if I'm doing things right, I feel like whenever something goes wrong its my fault, and I just feel lost. I feel like I'm letting people down and I didn't want to say anything to stress people out because I know they have their own problems in their lives. I feel weak whenever this happens and feel like I let everyone down..." You said with your breath shaking.

Cause I have faith in you that you're gonna make it through another night

Yoongi pulled you into his lap, having you straddle his hips. He gently held your face between his large hands wiping your new tears away and leaving little kisses on your nose, cheeks, forehead, and lips.

"Jagi, you are NEVER weak when this happens. You're having a hard time right now and it's normal with depression and anxiety disorders. You're amazing at your job. You've never had any problems with jobs in the past and always are above average in performance reviews. And you know you can always call me. You don't stress me out. You know I know how this feels."

"I know that but you and the guys missed each other so much. I didn't want to take away your all's happiness and I didn't want you to think I was being a needy girlfriend..." you said crying again into his shoulders.

"Hey, have you ever thought of me as a needy boyfriend when I have my breakdowns?" Yoongi asked gently forcing you to look up at him with his finger under your chin. You gently shook your head.

"Have you ever been mad at me for pulling you away from your friends with my depression?". You shook your head again.

"Do you like seeing me suffer with my own personal demons?". Once again, you shook your head. Yoongi gently grabbed your arms and placed them around his neck while he placed his around you waist.

Stop thinking about the easy way out

There's no need to go and blow the candle out

"It works both ways babygirl. The guys always understand too. I hate seeing you like this without me knowing. It hurts me so fucking much." He said with tears in his eyes. "You and I both know that we're always there to help each other get through this shit. We understand each other more than anyone else. No matter what I'm doing I can't be happy knowing my girl isn't answering the phone because she is suffering inside her own head." He said as a tear fell. He pulled you into his chest again held onto you tightly. Like if he were to let go, he would wake up and you would be gone. He took a deep breath getting himself together, still holding you tightly.

"I love you so fucking much Y/N L/N. I want to do anything I can to help you like we always do with each other. Because you're going to get through this like all the other times. It's only going to get better from here baby. Don't let yourself burn out on this one thing. You're one of the strongest people I know." He said as a few more tears slid out.

Because you're not done, You're far too young and the best is yet to come

You wrapped your arms tightly around Yoongi's neck. You pressed your lips against his, your fingers running against his soft raven locks. He kisses you back slow and gently but somehow full of the passion and love he has for you. A few moments later you both gently pull away from the kiss, noses touching and out of breath.

"I love you too, Yoongs. I know everything will be okay. Its just the anxiety talking." You say rubbing his neck.

"I know it is and its hard. But I mean it. You promise me you'll call me whenever you need me. No matter what I'm doing, Dork." He said smiling lovingly at you while lightly flicking your forehead. You giggled softly smiling at him.

"You better do the same, Jerk."

Yoongi lifted up his pinky finger, wrapping it around yours and kissing it.

"I promise, brat."

So just give it one more try to a lullaby

[plainsight6578]

Self-indulgent IwaOi fic because I was sad

This fic was based of a fanart by @ / marikdraw. Check them out their art is amazing!!!

Characters: Oikawa x Iwaizumi

TW: depression ???, just general self-loathing, though nothing too serious.

Genre: angsty but it turns into fluff at the end

Summary: Oikawa thinks he’s not enough. Iwaizumi shows him that he is.

Word count: 1,762

A/N: i hc that oikawa has MDD i dont make the rules... but i do

pâro

n. the feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—as if there’s some obvious way forward that everybody else can see but you, each of them leaning back in their chair and calling out helpfully, “colder, colder, colder…”

Since he was little, Oikawa was showered with endless praise and compliments.

"Wow! he's that good and only a first year?"

"You're going to make it very far!"

"You have so much potential, Oikawa!"

No one was better than him. He was unstoppable. Unbeatable. He was, in every sense, the great king of the court.

"Oikawa-san, you work so hard!"

"Slow down, Trashy-kawa"

Those remarks from his teammates only fueled his unending hunger for greatness. But, with high status comes high expectations. And Oikawa did everything in his power to live up to those expectations. 'Just a few more,' 'just a little bit further,' 'just a little more,' more, more, more. He never seemed to be satisfied with his own efforts. Fearing that his hours of extra practice would betray him when he needed it most. So, he always did more, more, more. He didn't stop until he physically couldn't anymore. 

On more than one occasion his teammates have walked in on a passed-out Oikawa, who had exerted too much of himself before practice had even started. He knew this wasn't healthy. He knew his body wouldn't be able to keep up. But no one, not even his already injured knee, could stop him. Because, as he found out, he wasn't the best. Not by a long shot. 

When he first met Kageyama, Oikawa's first instinct was to crush him. He wanted to push the younger boy so far down that he would give up on trying to get back up. Because inside his heart, he knew that he could never beat him. Kageyama was born a genius. Volleyball was natural for him. Oikawa had to mold himself to get to where he was, while people like Kageyama were born miles ahead, with all the instincts for the sport instilled into their DNA. He could never hope to be overtake Kageyama when he already had such a large head-start. He knew it, but he refused to accept it.

And then, in his third and final year of high school, the spring tournament came. Everything, all his efforts, lead up to this moment. It was almost poetic that he has to face off against his former kouhai who had challenged him so much in middle school. 

And then... by some miracle, they won. He won. Oikawa had actually beat the "king of the court". Finally, he felt like he was catching up. Oikawa was no longer struggling on an unfamiliar path that others had already crossed, he was struggling side-by-side with them. After nearly 18 years of his life, he finally felt like he was on an equal playing field with the others. Maybe, just maybe, all his extra hours of practice, all those bailing on gatherings with friends and nearly failing his subjects in school just to squeeze in a few more laps or serves... All of those sacrifices he made, weren't for nothing. His hard work was finally paying off. He was on a high no one could bring him down from.

And then they lost to Shiratorizawa.

He couldn't seem to fully grasp the reality of it yet. To him, it didn't make sense how Ushiwaka could beat him. He did everything right. every choice he made was the right one. Every toss went exactly where it needed to score. The entire team was at the top of their game. There was nothing else they could have done. They tried their hardest. So, why didn't they win?! Why had they lost? Clearly, it was Oikawa's fault. he was both the setter and the captain, meaning he held most of the responsibility for their loss. That's how it was in his eyes, at least. It had to be his fault; it was no one else's. This loss had dragged Oikawa from his high all the way down to rock bottom, and then kicked him down some more. 

As Oikawa sat in the changing rooms after the game, he contemplated every single day he spent not training. All those lunch breaks he let his fan-girls distract him, every damn time he told himself he was "too tired" or "not in the mood" to practice. Those scenes flashed in his mind like nightmares. Tears threatened to slip from his eyes as he fought for some control over his emotions. He was so caught up in his misery that he failed to notice the sound of Iwaizumi's footsteps coming in.

"Oi, trashy-kawa!" He yelled. Startled, Oikawa looked up to see Iwaizumi scowling down at him, "the bus is leaving soon, what the hell is taking you so damn long?" He asked, less aggressively than usual, taking into consideration their current situation and the tears that pricked at Oikawa's eyes. Their loss also weighed heavy on Iwaizumi's shoulders; he was slouching a tiny bit more than usual, and he didn't really have the energy in him to yell at Oikawa like he normally would have. 

Of course, Iwaizumi was beating himself up too; there was a ton of spikes and serves he'd missed during the match, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking the same things about themselves.

"I'm sorry..." Oikawa mumbled, barely loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear, "it was my fault we lost. I should have trained mo-"

"More? You're the one that did the most out of all us, stop regretting the things you didn't do," Iwaizumi had cut him off. He had now taken a seat right next to the bench Oikawa was sat on. Oikawa clenched his teeth. He didn't know why but he was getting angry. He wanted Iwaizumi to yell at him, tell him that he failed as their setter and captain, and most importantly as his friend. "Don't say that. We both know I should have tried harder," he spat back.

"Are you saying that you slacked off during the match?" Iwaizumi asked.

"Huh?! Of course not!"

"Then you did your best didn't you? We all did. That's all that mat-"

"THAT WASN'T ENOUGH, THOUGH!" Oikawa had snapped. His self-loathing had reached its peak. He couldn't stand Iwaizumi's lies anymore. Why wasn't he blaming him?! It was Oikawa's fault that they lost, right? So, why wasn't Iwaizumi angry?! Oikawa had long forgotten to stop himself from crying, and now every word he said as accompanied with the tears that flew down his face. "THEY SAW THROUGH ALL OF MY ATTACKS! THEY MANAGED TO RETURN MOST OF MY SERVES! I SHOULD HAVE TRAINED MORE! I SHOULD HAVE PRACTICED HARDER! I COULDNT MAKE IT IN TIME! I-" Oikawa's voice broke, "I wasn't enough for you..." He looked away. He couldn't stand to see Iwaizumi's face right now.

Earlier in their third year, the pair had promised each other that they would play on the same court for as long as possible. They would continue to win so they could keep playing volleyball together. And then, they would win nationals. side-by-side. Like they've always been.

When they'd lost against Shiratorizawa, Oikawa felt like he'd broken that promise. He was ready for Iwaizumi to yell at him about how disappointed he was, about how much he was let down by him... He waited... But nothing happened. Oikawa slowly turned his gaze back up to Iwaizumi and his breath hitched in his throat. Iwaizumi had tears in his eyes and his fists were clenched. 

Oikawas heart immediately stopped. Of course, he would be the one to make his best friend cry. The sight of it made his heart ache. He didn't know what to do so he just sat where he was and looked away. 

Iwaizumi said nothing; he simply bent down on the floor and placed the smallest little kiss onto Oikawa's injured knee. Oikawas heart started pounding. In that moment, he remembered why he'd been pushing himself so hard. Why he wanted to keep going even if his lungs were screaming out in pain. It was because of him; because of Iwaizumi. Because he wanted to play with him for as long as he could.

"You are so much more than enough, Tooru," Iwaizumi's voice was barely above a whisper. He looked up at Oikawa, who now had stopped crying, but his face was decorated with a bright blush that went up to his ears.

And, although Iwaizumi didn't say anything else after that, the look in his eyes told Oikawa everything he needed to know: 'it's not your fault, you did your best and we all know that, no one blames you.' 

A weight had been lifted off Oikawa’s shoulders; all those pent-up feelings of never being good enough seemed to melt away in the blink of an eye - in a way only Iwaizumi could do. He was so overwhelmed with so many feelings that all he could do was laugh as the relief set in. Iwaizumi, who was confused at first but then offered a soft smile, reached up to grab Oikawa's neck, and then proceeded to lean in for a kiss. Iwaizumi was about to pull away when Oikawa deepened the kiss by leaning down further and grabbing the hem of the other man's shirt. He could never put into words how thankful he was for Iwaizumi, so he was showing him. Likewise, that kiss was meant to reinforce how much Iwaizumi wanted to tell the other man, how hard he worked and how much of an inspiration he was to him and everyone around him, and he wanted to keep reminding Oikawa of just how much he meant to him for the rest of his life.

When they pulled away, Oikawa wore the brightest smile on his face that Iwaizumi had ever seen; he'd also realized that, in the weeks leading up to the tournament, he didn't see Oikawa smiling much. He didn't realize how much he’d missed that smile. Iwaizumi couldn't hide his giddiness either.

"If I'm going to get this treatment every time we lose, I'm gonna start losing a lot more," Oikawa joked.

"You better not!" Iwaizumi replied, his usual scowl evident on his face, but smiled at the implication that there were going to be more matches in the future.

And Oikawa, although still upset over the loss, had realized that he could be okay with losing if it meant Iwaizumi was there for him. 

____________________________________________

A/N: tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed UvU! This is the first fic I’m actually posting. If you have any criticism/feedback lmk!! I did proofread this but there might be some mistakes that I missed, if there is I’m sorry e.e’. 

[southsidestory]

you have bipolar disorder? how did you get to that conclusion? did you go to a doctor? i don’t want to self diagnose but i’ve read up on it a lot and it seems like my grandfather, father, and i have it. its made life super difficult. I even stopped writing ff bc when i posted, people wouldn’t understand how depressive episode make you not want to do anything for literal months at a time and would berate me for not updating 1/2

2/2 and my family is Mexican so they believe that mental illness is an American Thing, so i cant really go to them for help, and i wouldn’t even know where to begin with a doctor. what was your experience with it?

I did go to a psychiatrist, yes, but I had been experiencing symptoms since I was 12. I was 26 when I was finally correctly diagnosed. Before that I’d been misdiagnosed with MDD (major depressive disorder) and put on a cocktail of meds that mostly made me worse. Being correctly diagnosed is hugely important, and I highly recommend that someone see a psychiatrist rather than self diagnosing. 

But. Not everyone has the privilege of easy access to a psychiatrist, and it sounds like you’re in that category. And I can say from personal experience that I knew I was bipolar before I was diagnosed, because it runs in my family and my symptoms were astoundingly obvious by that point. Since you asked, I’ll tell you about my experience.

As I said, I started experiencing bipolar symptoms when I was a kid. I also have PTSD and GAD, and my anxiety has been with me all my life, but my depression started when I was 12. A nurse practitioner put me on the antidepressant Lexapro, which made me worse--because antidepressants don’t work for bipolar people. Our brains aren’t wired for it. So I quit taking Lexapro and didn’t attempt to treat my mental illness with medicine for the next ten years. 

I also started having hypomanic episodes as a young teenager, but I didn’t recognize them for what they were. I wouldn’t sleep for days and I’d be highly productive and feel great, so why would I complain about that or think it’s a problem? But the longer I went untreated the more severe my episodes became and the longer they lasted, and by the time I hit my 20s I was in a really bad place. Depressed 85% of the time, hypomanic 10% (although I didn’t know that’s what it was), and “normal” about 5%. My depressive episodes often lasted for months at a time, briefly broken by a week or two of hypomania, after which I’d plummet right back into depression.

I went to a psychiatric nurse practitioner when I was 22. He assumed I was depressed and put me on antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds. That mostly made me worse. The only thing that ever really worked was Abilify, which is an atypical antipsychotic shockingly used to treat bipolar disorder. That really should have been a fucking clue, but I went improperly diagnosed for another four years.

Being on a cocktail of the wrong meds made me worse, which led me to stop taking my meds cold turkey, which is always a bad idea. In April 2016 I had a horrible mixed episode, although I didn’t understand what it was then. For those who don’t know, a mixed episode is when someone is manic and depressed at the same time, and it’s pure hell. During my episode, I broke up with my partner right before our first wedding anniversary, quit my job, and almost committed suicide. (Then I moved back home and my mom promptly died, but that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms.)

Fortunately my partner and I got back together, and they helped me figure out what was going on. They’re also bipolar, but unlike me they were diagnosed as a kid, and our symptoms presented differently so that’s probably why neither of us saw it for a long time.

I finally saw a psychiatrist at the beginning of 2017, and I went in already knowing what I was going to hear. My mom had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder a couple of years before she died, so I knew it ran in my family. My symptoms had worsened significantly and my hypomania had finally become so distinct and unhealthy that it couldn’t be overlooked anymore.

None of my previous health care providers had ever asked me, “What do you feel like when you’re at your happiest?” If they had, it would have probably been obvious that I suffer from bipolar disorder, not unipolar depression. Because my “happiest” looks like extreme periods of creative productivity, days or weeks of insomnia, and some very bad decision making lol. Usually followed by a crash landing back into depression.

So I guess that’s my question for you. What do you feel like when you’re at your happiest? If your “up” periods sound like hypomania or mania, which I’m sure you’ve read about, then yeah there’s a good chance you’re bipolar. :/

And if you are bipolar, I cannot stress enough how important it is to get proper medication. I don’t want to scare you, but something like 20% of bipolar people die from committing suicide. And those are just the successful ones; the number who attempt, sometimes multiple times, is much higher. This is an extremely dangerous, disabling, potentially deadly illness. Although you can learn helpful coping strategies in therapy, and a good support system is also very important, the #1 thing you need to treat bipolar disorder is medication. It’s a chemical imbalance in the brain that, for 99% of us, cannot be effectively managed without mood stabilizers and/or antipsychotics. Every bipolar person I know (my mom, my aunt, my partner, and one of my friends) didn’t get better until they were on meds, and it was the same for me.

All this to say, if you suspect you’re bipolar, I encourage you to do every single thing in your power to get to a psychiatrist. I’d like to say your family might come around, but if you say they believe mental illness is an “American Thing” then I believe you. In which case, you need to advocate for yourself now and worry about their opinions later. Assuming you’re an adult, which I’m *really* hoping you are. If you’re a minor, that makes this much harder.

When you say you’re Mexican, I don’t know if you mean you’re living in Mexico or living in the US. If Mexico, I can’t point you toward resources, but if you happen to live in the US, most major cities have FQHCs (federally qualified health centers), which are aimed at serving poor people, and many of which provide mental health care services.

If you do have access to a psychiatrist, I can give you some pointers on what to do before your first appointment. I went into mine with a list of symptoms and how long I’d been experiencing them, family history of mental illness, previous medication regimens, and a summary of my trauma. When I handed it over to my psychiatrist she was like “Well it’s quite clear that you’re bipolar. I’m sorry you’ve been misdiagnosed for so long.”

If you’re comfortable DMing me, please feel free. Regardless, I hate to hear that you’re struggling, but I do want you to know that things can get better. I honestly feel like I lost the years between age 12 and 26, because I spent them so miserable, but since getting properly medicated my life has turned around completely. I want to see that happen for you too, nonny.

[conversationswithmybipolarchild]

#2: WHAT IS BIPOLAR DISORDER?

FELICITY: Bipolar disorder is a mental illness. Key word one: “illness,” meaning you are afflicted with it. Key word two: “mental,” it being a part of the brain. 

F: Mental health is as important as physical health. They are both very important, they go hand in hand. Bipolar disorder is a chemical imbalance in the brain. Whether or not it comes upon you after a traumatic event, or when puberty hits, or if it- if you show signs when you’re born, it doesn’t matter. it is all a chemical imbalance. 

F: You are born with it, no matter what. You can go...twenty five years without seeing any symptoms, simply because you never had anything to jumpstart your bipolar disorder. But, if you have bipolar disorder, were properly diagnosed with it...you were already born with it. It was already in your brain. 

F: Bipolar disorder is categorized by highs and lows in your mood. That’s why it’s called a mood disorder [edit: it can also be called a psychotic disorder]. Not just simple, everyday highs and lows like everybody has, it’s not just “oh, I feel sad today, it’s not just, “oh, I have a lot of energy.” It’s extreme. 

ANJA: That’s why they’re called poles. That’s why it’s bipolar disorder

F: Yes, it’s the two poles, the high and the low. 

A: The mania and the depression.

F: So mania, is when you...[trails off]...

A: It’s the high. 

F: It’s the high. Mania is the high, that means you have a lot of energy, you are very impulsive, can have a lot of aggression, rage, risky thoughts, risky behaviors.

A: Racing thoughts. 

F: Racing thoughts, absolutely. Nightmares, hallucinations, hypersexuality, violence, paranoia...

A: Also, I don’t think this is an official symptom, but coming from myself and a lot of other bipolar people, you get this feeling where you’re like, crawling in your own skin. 

F: Yeah. Definitely. I hear that one a lot. 

F: So, symptoms of a depressive episode is that you...well, you are depressed. Not just kinda sad, you feel really, really, down. When I’m depressed, and I have major depressive disorder, when I’m depressed I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to take a shower. I don’t want to get dressed, I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to be anything. 

A: There’s no motivation whatsoever. 

F: No motivation whatsoever. 

A: I don’t get depressive episodes very often because I have bipolar I, and I get manic more than I do depressed. I don’t really- I don’t have to worry about depression, unless I like, unless I have no stimulation in my everyday life. 

F: You have to stay busy in order to not get depressed. I’m the same way. If I don’t want to sit in that pit, I have to stay busy all the time. That’s why I’m constantly going, and going, and going, and doing, because if I just sit for more than a couple days, I’m in that pit and I don’t feel good. 

F: So, another symptom, another result, of bipolar disorder, is uh, suicide. There is a hefty suicide rate among bipolar people. That is- that is the worst part. And as a parent of a bipolar child, knowing the statistics around bipolar disorder and suicide, it’s enough to kickstart me into a depression. It is- it worries me. 

A: The, um, I’m not gonna say the only reason, but it is one of the biggest reasons why I didn’t try to kill myself when I was younger, was because I’m so afraid of death. Maybe not death, but what happens after it. 

F: To tell you the truth, me too. It absolutely terrifies me. 

F: So, some statistics from the NIMH, claim that 2.9% of thirteen to eighteen year olds have bipolar disorder, and eighty one percent of those kids have it severe. It’s bad enough to be hospitalized, and make their life really difficult. 

F: So I was reading earlier...about bipolar disorder, and someone asked the question, “can someone with bipolar disorder live a normal life?” And it says here, “people with bipolar disorder usually go ten years before being accurately diagnosed. Treatment can make a huge difference. It is a chronic health condition that needs lifetime management. Plenty of people with this condition do well, they have families and jobs and live normal lives.” So that ought to give you a little hope for the future. 

F: That’s...that’s the other thing. Meds...they are- in my opinion, they are a must. It’s beyond me how people aren’t medicated. 

A: I think it’s really funny how, um, how after I was diagnosed bipolar, the last thing you wanted me to do was be on meds. Now, we depend on it. We have to. There’s no choice. 

F: As you were growing up and you were being misdiagnosed all over the place, meds were the last thing on my mind. We tried every single thing else. We tried discipline, rewards, I tried diet changes, we tried all sorts of therapy, I tried changing the way that I parent! And none of it worked. 

A: Because you can’t just change those chemicals. Without medication. 

F: You can’t! Exactly. You can’t change those chemicals. Absolutely. I’m the same way with mine, my MDD. It doesn’t fix itself. I need medication to give me the right chemicals. To balance those chemicals in my brain. That is a must. 

F: So, we’ve talked about what bipolar is, now let’s talk about what it is not. It’s not learned. It’s not a discipline problem. It’s not something that you can beat out of a child, teach out of a child, train out of a child, It’s not something that’s going to go away. And it’s not something that’s just going to one day change. It’s an ever evolving illness...

A: But it’s always there. 

F: But it’s always there. And unless you’re treating it with therapy and medication, you’re fighting a losing battle. 

A: Chronic is the key word. 

F: Chronic is the key word. Bipolar disorder is a chronic illness. 

A: Which, that really scares me. Because I’ll have to live with this for the rest of my life. 

F: Let me tell you something. I’ve described severe depression as rain. Imagine you have to go out in the rain. And you have to change the tires on your car, you have to check your mail, you have to walk your dog, you have to go to work. You have to hoe your garden, mow your lawn. Daily things, but you have to do them in the rain. That’s what my brain is like every single day. I will always live doing everything in the rain. And that’s a daunting thing to think about. 

F: I can still do all those daily activities, but you know how when you go in the rain, everything’s just harder? And you’re just slightly more miserable doing them? That’s what it’s like with MDD, I’m constantly having to force myself to do things. And when I do them, I’m miserable. It’s harder for me. It’s harder for me to go take a shower than it is for other people. It’s harder for me to do things because it’s like when you’re out in the rain, everything’s just that much harder.

A: It’s like- I’ve said it before- but it’s like when you do anything, it would be much easier for a neurotypical person.   

F: It is much easier for a neurotypical person. They’re not fighting chemicals in their brain. 

A: They’re not fighting their own mind on a daily basis. 

F: Yeah! And I know that’s exhausting. I know your brain is tired. I know you’re tired. I know you are. But you can’t really think about it that way, because then you’ll get overwhelmed. I can’t think about how I will never not be in the rain. I can’t think about it...because that’s just gonna throw me back in that pit. And I can’t live my life, raise my kids, and take care of everything I need to take care of..if I’m in that pit. 

A: And it’s okay to be miserable. It’s okay to rest. 

F: As long as you don’t give up. I like Kevin Hines’s hashtag, #beheretomorrow. Today might not have been the best day, but as long as you’re here tomorrow, that’s what matters. 

F: Let’s touch on what bipolar disorder means for you- for us. What does bipolar disorder mean for you? 

A: I really hate to say this but...bipolar disorder is a part of me. And I can’t change that. I mean, sometimes I really wish I didn’t have bipolar disorder, but I don’t know what I would be without it. 

F: Absolutely. I completely agree with you. I feel the same way about myself. I don’t know who I would be. I don’t know who my father would have been, who my grandmother would have been, without mental illness. 

F: While I understand your sentiment, I think that because you’re medicated, and nobody else was, you are more you.

A: And less bipolar disorder. 

F: Yes! Exactly. When you were eight years old and running away and acting out, being violent and raging, I didn’t know who you were! I couldn’t buy you gifts, I didn’t know what you liked. I didn’t know your personality...all I knew was this child I couldn’t connect with. All I knew was this child that absolutely hated me. 

A: I was mostly bipolar disorder. 

F: One of the more prominent symptoms that you had was lack of motivation. Smartest kid ever, bad grades. It’s not that you didn’t know the work, you just didn’t turn stuff in. Soon as we got you on medication, that mostly changed. 

F: Super energy. 

A: Aggressive. Frustrated. 

F: Violent. Raging. Yeah, those were scary times. 

A: I had anger issues.

F: A lot. Yeah. You couldn’t focus on anything. I know a lot of that are symptoms of ADHD. 

A: Which is why I got misdiagnosed.

F: But its the hallucinations and the nightmares that sealed the deal. That turned things around. When we brought those up, it turned things around. That’s when the term “bipolar” came into play, and it fit. It fit you. 

F: I know that some of the symptoms in my family, that are or were mentally ill, were definitely instability. Never being able to stay put. Not being consistent. Inconsistency was huge.

A: Even me, now, medicated, I can’t stay on the same routine or the same surroundings for more than a month. I have to change something about my life, whether it be my room, or, hell, my Tumblr blog. There has to be something that changes. 

F: I agree. I’m the same way. I get very bored very easily.

F: Money! Money was a huge problem when I was growing up. You know, nobody could save. They would spend wildly. 

A: Money? You mean lack of!

F: Yeah. It was impulsive spending. That’s one of the bigger symptoms of bipolar disorder in adults. Impulsive spending. That was a huge one when I was growing up. 

F: My family was never very affectionate. They were always very distant. 

A: I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t affectionate.

F: Well, that’s the whole reason I am affectionate, is because I was starved as a child. I needed affection and I never got it. So, it was super important to me that I be an affectionate parent. I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t affectionate either, because I thrive on being close to you guys. And I don’t want to raise you in the same situation. In an angry, distant, impulsive, unstable situation. I don’t want to raise you that way. 

F: So, what did we learn today?

F: That it’s a little scary.

A: It’s scary.

F: But it can be managed.

A: It can be managed.

F: And you’re doing a fantastic job. And I’m doing a fantastic job, and your team is doing a fantastic job. 

F: Do you remember the time we were standing outside Old Navy and you told me you wanted to buy a gun?

[blank stare]

[elm-ckenzie-blog]

Major Depressive Disorder

I had a talk with my psychologist today and she offered the idea of talking about my experience with MDD on a public forum. The reason for this is because I am a writer who was working to be published and she thought it would be a good idea to write about my experience as I have the skills to do so. So, this is my attempt to do as she’s asked. I’m not sure what to expect out of this but I’ll try my best to see if I can raise awareness for how this mental illness affects myself. Please note: this illness tailors itself to whoever it affects. My experiences may not be the same as yours but I greatly encourage you to share your experience. I will always be available to talk to anyone who needs it.

I have the suspicion that I was sick for a long time before anyone realised but it was brushed off as teenage angst, that my anger and outbursts at my fairly stable family were nothing more than me being a rebellious teenager. In actual facr, I was in a lot of pain but didn’t know how I wasn’t supposed to be feeling that way. I believed that I was going through was perfectly normal and I was just doing what teenagers were supposed to do. How was I supposed to know that wasn’t the case? I didn’t know anything but the world from my own perspective and my own perspective was pretty narrow. I was a kid. I only knew what others told me.

Fast forward a few years and I drop out of high school after giving up on myself and my education and get a job. I work at this job for near on 5 years but then something starts going wrong with me. Suddenly, I’m sleeping nearly constantly, I’m barely eating and I only get out of bed when I have to get ready for work. I’m tired constantly and I’m irritable as hell, snapping at anyone who dares to talk to me. I just want everyone to leave me alone. I see now, this was the start of my severe decline but, at the time, I wasn’t aware of how much I was sleeping.

I was aware that I wasn’t eating and wrongly thought that I had an eating disorder. I now know that my MDD had robbed me of my appetite but it was with this belief that I went to the doctors. I moved back home, having been living by myself for two years, quit my job and attempted to attend university to build my writing skills. Unfortunately, my decline continued and I started getting intrusive thoughts about harming myself. At the time, it wasn’t something I paid much attention to, after all, I am a writer and random images jumping into my head kind of comes long with the territory.

The problem started when my brain started to urge me to copy these images. Instantly, red flags went off and I started searching for help. I am an incredibly lucky person that I had access to counselling the moment I realised something was wrong and also, that I personally didn’t have a problem with talking about it. I would like to thank all the people fighting for awareness of mental illnesses for allowing help to be so close and easily accessible these days.

However, I still deteriorated further. I started questioning what the point of living was. i was in so much pain that the fact that leaving this world would hurt the people around me started to seem less important then ending the pain that seemed to be tearing me apart from the inside. Wouldn’t it be okay to leave? It wasn’t like anyone would care that I was gone. Aren’t I a burden? Aren’t I hurting them? I can’t do anything right, they shouldn’t have to put up with me being sick, they don’t have to look after me. They just feel like they have to. Even when I tell people that I’m not well and they try to oppose it, my brain tells me they’re just saying it. “Filling in lifes script” is what I refer to it as. Something along the lines of “Hi, how are you?” “I’m fine, how about you?”. We say it because that’s what we’re supposed to say just as the people who tell me I’m worth something are only saying that because they’re supposed to say it. I am a problem they feel urged to fix.

For several months now I have been in therapy and have been taking medication after ending up in the mental health ward of my local hospital for a week. I am constantly fighting against the pain and the exhaustion. Wanting to end my life but also not wanting to die is a strange paradox to be in. I eventually decided that everything would be better if I had simply never existed but as this isn’t something I can accomplish I just have to hope that there will be something good at the end of this fight. I have to hope that this fight won’t be like this for my entire life and there is something to look forward to, something to continue fighting for. That’s all I can hope for and I can honestly say, that hope has saved my life countless times.

Sorry for the essay. i wasn’t sure how to start this blog so writing my story to this point in one post seemed like a good idea. I don’t know how many people will actually read this but I really want to know others stories, with any kind of mental illness. Please, tell me your stories. I’d love to know about your journeys. It’d be great to know that I am not nearly as alone as my MDD likes to make me think. Thank you for reading this far.

[she-could-only-destroy]

I need to get my story out there.

For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been in a committed relationship for over 5 years. A year before that, however, I was in an abusive relationship. I want to tell my story (and show off how lucky I am to have my current boyfriend). TW; emotional abuse, attempted sexual abuse, threatened physical abuse. Also, WARNING: Strong language

As I mentioned, I have been in a committed relationship for over 5 years with the love of my life. Before this, I had a few "serious" (what I thought were serious) boyfriends, & I was with one of these boys for over 6 months. I know, not a long time, but FOREVER when you're 13 like I was. This boy emotionally and verbally abused and scarred me, and towards the end it got dangerously close to physical and sexual abuse. Like I said, I was 13 when we started dating. We were in 8th grade, and I had been crushing on him for about 2-3 years prior. When he finally asked me out, I was ecstatic, and even THAT is an understatement. Little did I know...my life was about to become hell. It started like any other middle school relationship; sitting beside each other in bus room and at lunch, calling each other every night, and texting each other a lot when we both got a cell phone. Then it turned into him texting me 24/7, even at school, to see what I was doing. If I took more than ten minutes to reply (even at school), I got accused of cheating and “being a whore”. Keep in mind, at this point we’d only kissed a few times. This was around 2 months in, & I just thought he was being over-protective because of how much he cared. We said “I love you” for the first time sometime that month, and I believed him. At barely 13, I was ECSTATIC to be “in love”, so when I would go to his house & he would demand things from me (I’ll let you imagine, but not actually having sexual intercourse), I let it happen. I let the red flags slip because he wasn’t hitting me. I wasn’t in physical pain, so it had to be healthy and normal, right? Keep in mind, this was only about 3-4 months in. This behavior went on for another month or so, and then it got worse. EXPONENTIALLY worse. When I’d go over, we would play “hide and seek” with his little brother while his parents had their attention elsewhere. The only real rule was that their room, that they had shared at the time, was off limits. So, of course... my then-boyfriend would take me & “hide” in there since his brother wouldn’t be checking. (He was only around 9 at the time, I believe, so he didn’t know any better). He would make a blanket fort on the bottom bunk (his bunk) of their bed, and we would lay there and make out for, like, ten minutes until his brother gave up and yelled for us to come out. One time during a game of hide and seek, he pulled out a condom from his sock drawer. A grape-flavored condom. At THIRTEEN fucking years old. We were both virgins, and I didn’t have any desire to change that. I didn’t even realize what it was until he asked if I was ready to have sex with him. I said “no�� repeatedly, and he just kept saying “come on,” “it’ll be fun,” “you know you want to,” “just let me do it,” etc. and kissing me and trying to take my clothes off and put his hand down my pants, getting more angry and aggressive as he went. He was not letting up and I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified. At this point I yelled, “Time’s up, (brother’s name)! We’re in here! (Boyfriend’s name) cheated!” That, of course... made him even more furious with me. He angrily tossed the condom back into his drawer as his brother came in the room, and that was that. Neither of us spoke about it to each other ever again. Around month 5, he threatened to hit me for the first time. I was in Tennessee at my grandma’s on vacation. We were texting about how much we missed and loved each other, and he asked if I had been seeing another boy while I was in Tennessee. I told him “no,” but he didn’t believe me. He just kept pestering me about it until eventually, I got tired of his constant accusing and put my phone in another room and just relaxed with my family. After a few hours, I went back in and got my phone. I was flooded with a stream of “WTF are you doing?”, “I know you’re cheating right now you stupid whore,” etc. I texted him & told him I “had” to put my phone away because I got in trouble for being on it too much. He said “I don’t believe you, I know you were cheating on me.” After a while of me crying my eyes out in the back bedroom trying to convince him of the truth, he finally believed me. I remember the next text he sent me word-for-word. It’s been nearly 6 years and I can still recite it perfectly. “I swear to god if you ever cheat on me, I’ll kill the boy and get you with whatever strength I have left.” My heart sank. My fairytale had turned into a horror movie, and I was terrified. I didn’t tell anybody, and for the rest of the trip he kept telling me what he would do if I ever cheated. When I came back home to West Virginia, I made up every excuse not to see him. Freshman band camp was starting soon after I got back, so of course that was my main excuse since only band students can be there (or so I said). After discussing the overview of that summer’s events with friends (I left out the attempted rape & threatened physical violence), I knew it was time to end it. I texted him that it was over (dick move, I know). He pulled the “I swear I’ll kill myself if you do this,” “I’m crying so hard I can’t breathe,” etc. So I texted his parents to check on him & they said he was fine. I ended it then & there. I was free. Until school started, anyway. Luckily by the time classes began, I was dating a “big bad” junior. He would not even DARE talking to me because he was terrified of my new boyfriend. So...that was the end of that (you know, except the depression, anxiety, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder [PTSD])... I had already been showing signs of Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), but my mom was holding off on treatment for me in hopes that it would be better once I was free of the hell I was in. But...it got worse. I developed full-blown MDD, Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), and signs of PTSD (not diagnosed so I don’t know for sure if it’s that or just a sub-set of my anxiety). From then, I had the boyfriend that scared him off, but that only lasted a few months. Then came...the big one. My first love. The only one I would ever want to be with. (Or so I thought). To make a long story short: this kid and I had been off/on for a few years, best friends since we were in diapers, and I had known I loved him for a while, but pushed it off because he wasn’t interested at the time. We dated for a few months for the last time, and then he broke it off because he “wanted to be single”...even though he started dating someone else a few days later. But we’re on good terms now, so I won’t get salty again. Then...when healing from my broken heart, I decided to message the first single, attractive boy on my Facebook IM. (Yes, it was still called Facebook IM, with the automatic pop-out boxes and everything...damn I’m old). This boy & I knew each other for a few years prior, because he was (still is) best friends with my older brother. We talked on Facebook for a few days and then exchanged phone numbers. We were in the same section in band, and we sat next to each other at community band practice. After about a month of being close, I knew I really liked this kid and there was something special. He asked me out one night at 3am & I said yes. 5 years later (as of June 10th, 2017) here we are. We’ve had an apartment together for over a year, and we’re more in love than ever, and keep falling deeper in love every day. This man has loved me through everything. Every psychotic break, every inconvenience, every suicidal moment, EVERYTHING. Somehow he hasn’t given up on me. I don’t deserve to have someone like him who loves me even half as much as he does, but GOD am I lucky. I truly believe that we are two halves of a whole, and we were destined to be soulmates. He is my other half, and I’d like to think that I am his other half as well. I could not be any more thankful for this amazing man. He is my soulmate and my saving grace, and I honestly don’t think I’d be here without him. To make this whole story short: Life was shit, but then Andrew came along. And I love him so much for that and everything he does. Side note: HUGE thanks to my amazing Criminology professor for helping me realize that my story matters, and it is valid. The abuse may not have been physical, but it left me scarred. And that’s okay that I am scarred, because I am lucky enough to be able to come forward today & tell my story from the outside. If ANYONE has anything like this that they feel they need to talk about, whether it’s advice or just venting, I AM HERE. I will always be here. YOU ARE WORTH MORE. I love you.