So incredibly tired and hungry. There is nothing to eat here because we can’t afford to buy groceries this week. I hate not having money.

Wow

(Source: observando, via under--the--willow)

Is it a sign of mental illness to have extreme trouble with decision making or is it just a human nature thing? Cuz I’m drove off my head with decisions. I had to decide today if I was going to go to a social function with my family. It went like this:

I can’t wait to go. Actually getting out and socializing will be good for me. Its been a loonng time since I’ve been in the company of anyone other than my mother and husband …

But on the other hand, I’m in a lot of pain today. My leg is really swollen …

But I can bandage it so that solves that. The tight bandage seems to really help the blood flow. No onw will see it cuz I will be wearing long pants …

I have absolutely nothing suitable to wear. I need something dressy. All I have is your everyday clothes because I never need anything fancy. *starts going through my closet* Not one thing here fits to make me feel comfortable. Oh but there’s this black thing ….

I always feel best in black and this is fancy. Sparkly thinks in the material. This will work. Problem solved. Black headband goes good. *does my hair* I’m impressed! My hair went just how I wanted it to go …

I am so friggin fat. My stomach hangs over my jeans. There is no way I am going. *changes clothes* I’ll stay home in my comfy clothes and rest because that’s what the dr told me. I can’t sit there at the table, eating a meal, in public. Not happening. I’ll die if its some type of meat, like steak or something, and I have to get my mother to cut it for me. I just won’t eat. One thing about being an amputee is not being able to cut my own food …

I’ll be a vegetarian today! I just won’t touch anything that has to be cut up. Ok. My hair and make up is done and my brother really needs my support at this function. He has done so good this year in his sporting events and I have to be there to see him get his medal …

I need to take morphine. I can’t go there in this pain. *takes a DOUBLE dose* …

All dressed and ready to go. I finally get to go to a social event and be a part of this world …

Morphine kicks in and I got so drugged up that I had to stay home.

Reading about self injury is very triggering …

Had to get a bunch of tests done at the hospital today. Doctor is concerned about some things and the valves in my main vein in my left leg aren’t working properly. My oxygen level was below normal so that also brought up concern. Have I ever mentioned how much I despise those blue hospital gowns???

(Source: chopstickgirl, via imgfave)

My grandfather’s devotional time.

New phone!!!!!!!

If you used to be a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky sort, in a depression, nothing could be farther from the truth. When manic, all your thoughtful, careful ways become things of the past. You can barely identify with the person you were pre-mood. It’s like someone else, a crazy person, moved right into your head and body and took over your life. Bipolar snatched your body and brain.

Depression is a change in the way your brain, the way you operate. The you that you know yourself to be is altered. Where once you loved doing charity work, now you just want to sleep. Where once you loved to walk along the beach, now it makes you sad. Where once you enjoyed cooking meals, now you would rather heat a TV dinner. All of the little bits, the little opinions, the little actions, the little thoughts, that make up your day have been changed.

It feels like you stumbled into someone else`s body.

Mania is just as bad. Mania is also a complete alteration of thoughts. Where once you loved ice cream now you don`t eat. Where once you loved lazy Sunday mornings, now you don`t sleep. Where once you were on a tight, responsible budget, now you wrack up debt you in no way can afford. All of the decisions you make are compromised. People around you know that you aren`t you but you`re likely too busy being someone else to notice.

The body snatcher, the brain snatcher, is stronger than you are.

The only thing I can really do is just keep reminding myself that I am not my illness. Fighting this is about getting the snatcher out of my body. Taking meds is about letting the actual me hold the reins again. Going to therapy is about beating the body snatcher at its own game and wrestling it out of here.

It might win today`s battle, but I WILL WIN THE WAR!

Such sad eyes. I’m trying incredibly hard to not be discouraged. I’m finding it really hard to keep the courage. So much is going on inside my head, my heart, my soul. They want to send me away - again. I’m not well. That’s what they all tell me. So easy to lose sight of everything. The darkness inside of me is much too strong for me to keep battling with anymore. I’m afraid to let my true colors shine through. Will you still love me? If you see who I really am, will you give up on me?