Good morning! OK guys, today is gonna be a little “different.” Today I’m going all raw and no-holds-barred about something that makes a LOT of folks uncomfortable…mental illness. (Umm…for the more sensitive readers, I left the language in today…)
I know I’ve got quite a few friends out there who suffer from various forms of Anxiety, Bipolar, and Depressive Disorders. I know this because they private message me on Facebook, Twitter, or e-mail, opting to remain silent about their battles instead of using public-access comments. And I completely understand and respect their discomfort…because I’m one of them.
You know, I really should have seen this coming. I’ve kinda noticed a pattern here…every last damn time they mess with my pain meds, I end up doing battle with my brain. As Doc A+ pointed out, these drugs work by altering your brain chemistry, so it makes perfect sense that it would fuck up my delicate balancing act.
I share my over-crowded head space with rapid cycling Bipolar Disorder. I have also made what many would argue is the wrong choice to decline medication. (This is actually only PARTIALLY true, since the reason my former Doc and I opted to try Gabapentin for pain in the first place was based on studies in Europe where is’s being used to treat my special brand of Bipolar with some success.)
The last few days I’ve been doing my slow spiral into the down-side of up. The chaos in my head has reached epic proportions, leaving me living with my earbuds in, having discovered years ago that focusing on music (my biggest addiction) helps drown "me" out.
This morning, as I was singing (or maybe screaming) along with some AWESOME 80’s music, I realized there was a theme to the music I’d been using to drown out my own thoughts…it all seemed to center around the night. (This morning's selection being "Don’t You Know What the Night Can Do.” Thank you Mr. Winwood!) And in my circular thought process, I was reminded of a conversation my college roommate and I once had…
Shanny was my best friend, but we were exact polar opposites. She once told me that people could be divided into two types, Day people and Night people. She explained the Day people were steady, dependable and more focused while the Night people were more chaotic, moody, and unrestrained…kinda the whole free-spirit shit.
Needless to say, we both classified her as a Day person and me as a Night person. (I hadn’t been diagnosed at that point in my life as Bipolar, although Borderline Personality Disorder had been mentioned…)
Right this minute, I am immersed in the midnight part of my personality. Actually, it’d be closer to truth to say I’m treading water in it, doing my damnedest not to fucking drown. As long as I can keep my nose up and remember THIS IS NOT ME, I’ll be ok. I know I just have to stay afloat long enough for this to pass…ride the tide until I can get my ass back to shore.
But how do you explain this to someone who’s never floated in that midnight sea? You can’t, really. To someone who has never fought for their life…with themselves…there can be love, acceptance, and support, but never true "knowing."
For years my family just thought I was a little “odd” for my occasional outbursts of “SHUT UP!” until recently when they realized I was talking to my head. They’re not afraid of me, but they do sometimes worry about me. Because, sadly, this bullshit makes them feel just as powerless as it does most of us. (Yet another reason I fight so fucking hard!)
I want to be a Day person. I want to be steady and dependable. I was to smile and truly be at peace with all that I am. The physical illness I can stare dead in its shit, understand it, and accept it. I can even embrace it as a part of my life and hold its hand as we walk along a metaphorical beach. It’s part of me…and I’m OK with that.
But this? This darkness that hides at the edges of my vision, threatening to overtake me if I let my guard down…I will NOT make peace with this bastard! I will never again embrace it or offer it a hand. I’ve learned the hard way that yes, it is a part of who I am, but not a part I can easily accept or ever really make peace with. We cohabitate…but we dance around each other in a dark tango, me doing my best never to let it take the lead.
“Don’t you know what the night can do…” Yes. Too many of us do. And we know how far too many others view the night. (Ever seen a horror movie where the monster only comes out in the daylight? Yeah, me neither. People fear the fucking night for a more than one reason.)
So we keep silent. We hide in the darkness and pray for dawn. We hope we hide the shadows we carry with us well enough that no one ever notices. We find ways to fight and use smiles to camouflage the battle scars. And all too often, we believe we’re alone in the fray.
That right fucking there is why I stopped swallowing the urge to write about it this morning…because the one thing all of us Night people should remember…the thing that might help give us the strength not to give in…is the fact that none of us are alone.
We may be partially hidden from each other in between the black waves that crash and roll around us, but we’re there. And sometimes? That knowledge can be the one tiny difference between continuing to stay afloat until morning comes, bringing with it a calm, beautiful blue sea…
So...this is me, switching on a water-proof flashlight and screaming across the dark waters, "YOU'RE NOT ALONE!!!"
