I Need A Hero

Just a few days ago, I was fine.  Bordering on good.  Feeling positive.  Not aware that bipolar disorder was going to smack into me like a Mack truck.  Not aware that all of those good feelings and positive thoughts would completely disintegrate.  I don’t know why I’m always so surprised.  This is always how it goes.  This is what bipolar disorder does.  It takes your perfect little sandcastle and dumps a boatload of water on it.  And then you’re drowning.

I am flailing at this point.  I have not been able to gather any willingness about me as of yet.  I am struggling and I am drowning.  I am looking for any outside source to make myself feel better when I know, deep down, that it resides in myself.  It matters not.  It appears that the people who are always in my corner may have become, over time, less sympathetic to my plight.

Well, that’s what it feels like, even if it’s not reality.  It feels like they are sick to death of the crazy Rose and only want the “feeling good” Rose around.  I can see it in their eyes, which they avert when I look directly at them.  I can sense it in the body language, the old, “oh, here we go again” shrug of shoulders.  The lack of a hug, the lack of an “I love you.”  The not being able to meet me in the eyes.  The plain and simple walking away.  I, and this 15 year bout with mental illness, have left them drained.

I don’t know what other people think, when a person with bipolar disorder goes through a long remission of symptoms.  Are they thinking maybe the symptoms won’t come back?  Or that they won’t be as bad?  Or that the person dealing with the disorder has the skills so will surely be able to fix herself?

What I do know is that this is two cycles in a month.  That’s a lot for any family to have to deal with, especially after such a long period of remission.  Are the fears back that this will go on and on?  Maybe.  I can’t ask because I don’t know that I want to hear the answer.  I know my family will stand by me, but I can’t help feeling all alone.

I really don’t know.  What I do know is that I do an awful lot of my pain and suffering in silence, because I don’t want to bother anyone.  And when I DO reach out, I am guilty and ashamed.  Why am I ashamed of something I have been dealing with for so long?  Because I see what it does to the people around me.  I’m not saying they would, but there is a small possibility in the back of my brain says that they could get tired of loving me if this keeps going on.

And it will keep going on.  My bipolar disorder is CHRONIC, as in, not going away.  I will have to deal with this the rest of my life, and I’m just not sure I can sometimes.  I’m not getting ready to do anything stupid, but those thoughts are there.  It’s never good when the thoughts are there.

I want to affirm and reaffirm that I will never take my own life.  I know that would destroy people that love me.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.  Over the years, I have always kept myself from doing it in one way or another.  Right now, my nephew and my pup, are the two things keeping me going.  I don’t want Kizz to ever be without her momma and I want to watch my nephew grow up.  Those are two good reasons to keep fighting.  They are what I think of when I think I can’t do this anymore.

So for now, I’ll keep moving on.  I’ll take the extra meds the pdoc prescribed and I’ll try and stay busy and I’ll keep blogging on here.  There is a part of me that desperately wants to reach out to someone, but I know that maybe, for now, I have maxed that person out.  It is sad to me that I have done this, but it’s been a long row to hoe.  And we’ve only made it through the strawberry patch so far.

 

“Hero”

I’m just a step away
I’m just a breath away
Losin’ my faith today
(Fallin’ off the edge today)

I am just a man
Not superhuman
(I’m not superhuman)
Someone save me from the hate

It’s just another war
Just another family torn
(Falling from my faith today)
Just a step from the edge
Just another day in the world we live

[Chorus:]
I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero (save me now)
I need a hero to save my life
A hero’ll save me (just in time)

I’ve gotta fight today
To live another day
Speakin’ my mind today
(My voice will be heard today)

I’ve gotta make a stand
But I am just a man
(I’m not superhuman)
My voice will be heard today

It’s just another war
Just another family torn
(My voice will be heard today)
It’s just another kill
The countdown begins to destroy ourselves

[Chorus]

I need a hero to save my life
I need a hero just in time
Save me just in time
Save me just in time

Who’s gonna fight for what’s right
Who’s gonna help us survive
We’re in the fight of our lives
(And we’re not ready to die)

Who’s gonna fight for the weak
Who’s gonna make ’em believe
I’ve got a hero (I’ve got a hero)
Livin’ in me

I’m gonna fight for what’s right
Today I’m speaking my mind
And if it kills me tonight
(I will be ready to die)

A hero’s not afraid to give his life
A hero’s gonna save me just in time

[Chorus]

I need a hero
Who’s gonna fight for what’s right
Who’s gonna help us survive

I need a hero
Who’s gonna fight for the weak
Who’s gonna make ’em believe
I need a hero
I need a hero

A hero’s gonna save me just in time

 

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20 thoughts on “I Need A Hero

  1. Well ‘Smartie Pants’….another great share!
    Thanks for sharing that it’s OK…..to have a NOT so OK day or two! Your have great awareness of yourself. Sometimes when a ‘cycle’ sneaks up on me, I don’t have a clue. By the way, I love the background header of your blog….

    Hugs & Blessings,
    *Cat* 🙂 🙂

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  2. Were you able to talk to the doctors this morning? Did they know how far off you are feeling right now?

    I would bet if you did ask, they would say the cycles scare them… Because of the toll they take on you. They don’t want to see you hurting, not because they don’t want to help but because they might not know how when they want you to be at your best for YOU. That might be part of what you think you are seeing.

    ((HUGS)) and please, please contact me if you need to. I don’t have bipolar but I know the worry of reaching out.

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    • I have talked to the pdoc’s answering machine about a million times and they aren’t taking me too seriously. And I think you’re right, the cycles do scare people and they worry. And YOU need to reach out, too, missy! 😀

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  3. We’re up, we’re down, we’re left, we’re right, we’re CRAZY! 😀

    In my book, you’re doing precisely what you need to do. You’ve called the doc, you’re following his advice, you’re doing all of the things you know you should do – that’s all anyone can expect of you. Yes, being close to someone who’s cycling is hard, but it’s hard because no one wants to see you hurting. And my guess is that they don’t want you to see how much your hurting makes them hurt.

    Do your best, that’s all anyone can ask of any of us. And don’t worry about burning people out – if they can’t handle you at your worst they sure as fuck don’t deserve you at your best.

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  4. You don’t need to feel guilty, but you need to remember other people have issues too. I’m bipolar, as are my son and my granddaughter. My father was not only bipolar, but an abusive sadist. When he was down, he was depressed. When he was up, he was cruel and predatory. I have a bit of experience here.

    I have not gotten much help when I’m in a black hole. I’ve learned to climb myself. I can’t take a lot of medications — they cause physical side effects, so I shut up, occupy myself with audiobooks, writing, reading and sometimes, mindless games on the computer. Anything to keep from obsessing. Eventually, it gets better.

    I remind myself I’ve been in this hole before and survived. If I need a rescue, I’ll have to be my own hero. Anyway, I’m terrible at being helped. I hate needing help. I’m cranky and unpleasant when I hurt, physically or mentally. Taking care of me is not an assignment anyone wants and I can’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to take care of me, either.

    This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but this is my reality. Maybe there’s something in it for you, too.

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    • No, I think there’s something in it for me, too. I still really need the meds to make things all click into place, but I can relate to distracting yourself to ease it. And to remember that you’ve gotten out of big black holes before. Sometimes it is all just not clear and I think those are the times I hate the most.

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  5. “Are they thinking maybe the symptoms won’t come back? Or that they won’t be as bad? Or that the person dealing with the disorder has the skills so will surely be able to fix herself?”

    Excellent rhetorical questions for sure. Sometimes I wonder if it’s too difficult for people to get the real scoop, dig in a bit, find reliable information to further understanding. By difficult I mean scary or painful or [whatever else it could be]. I think ignorance (i.e., uninformed) sometimes facilitates a strange perception of safety.

    In my case, I really understand the depression but not so much the manic part. For as much as I can relate to the hole and the challenge of climbing out, I lack the ability to identify with the mania from that same first person POV. That said, I do know from experience with my bipolar SD that I often felt I sure didn’t want to make her feel worse by doing/saying something insensitive or unsupportive – or that even looked that way.

    As to the surprise, I interpreted that as possible optimism and hope. If things are going well and you haven’t relapsed for awhile, it seems to me that focusing on that moment, and being happy in it, is optimal. The alternative is missing those moments in anticipation of things taking a bad turn (which might not happen, at that time).

    Keep writing Rose. The thing is that many people need to better understand. I’ve learned heaps by reading blogs like yours and I’ve also felt the support from bloggers like you when I was on the floor with the dust bunnies. 🙂 You’ll be tough when you need to be tough. You’ll be quiet and introspective when you need solitude You know what to do and, although it has to be exhausting, you’ll be your own hero because of that core, kick ass part of who you are.

    Your cape is in the closet, just waiting for Go Time. 😉

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    • I so pulled out my cape today and kicked ass, I want you to know. 😀

      I really appreciate all your support, Dharma, and I’m sorry I don’t have a big reply to your big comment, but I’m getting weary and I think there are some Cheezits screaming my name in the cupboard. 😀

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      • Haha! Cheezits. silly damn things.:)

        Whoa Mama! You rocked it, eh? Wowzers! Way to go. yeah. That’s what I’m talkin’ about!

        Weary: man, you had a big win – with a cape no less – so I’m not surprised. This is all so exhausting, so many of us understand. Gads. When I was down the hole I couldn’t communicate with anybody so I bow to your sentences! I’m still not quite back in the middle and communication is hard. No pushing it though.

        Whoo hoo!

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  6. You do realize the Hero within is the only masked crusader who can truly assist, right? You can be loved, nurtured, cared for, and even just have someone by your side in silent “I’m there for ya” mode.

    Yes, it helps to talk about it. When willing to look at observations of others, or actually hear the love and concern, it can be of comfort… when you allow it. As another pointed out here… at times ’tis hard for those around you to say anything at all. The mania/agitation/depression is like a poorly strung tennis racket, and the words of care/concern/observation/help are batted back like a volley of badly placed tennis balls. Thus, at times, there is nothing that can be said or done, other that to worry and hurt for and with you.

    It is correct to presume the love and support of those around you will continue regardless, and correct to presume the fear of it ceasing is only the beast within. One must get to a place of strength where the whisper of that beast can be silenced…sometimes a prolonged and not-so-easy exercise.

    One of your favorite battle cries has always been “you don’t understand.” The statement bears a lot of truth. Correct… if one is not bipolar, one can never.ever.ever understand exactly what it feels like to bear the brunt of it. I am personally so grateful not to exquisitely know what it feels like; it allows me the objective/subjective fortitude to attempt assistance and support.

    And truthfully, if one suffers from a mental illness and those in their closest support system do not, it is hard to understand the emotional reactions of those supporters. ’tis a most agonizing journey, to love someone, watch them suffer, and be able to do nothing other than stand by until help can again be given and accepted. Sucked for me to grow up, and suddenly realize a kiss and a bandaid weren’t always enough. 😉

    MTLI mija…. stay strong, even if you don’t wanna, and fight the good fight. Yes.You.Can. …XOXO

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  7. I’m a bit late, but I have an inkling what it is like to feel like in such a big dark hole. I’ve always been inspired by the movie Beautiful Mind, towards then end when after he wins the awards he still sees his illusions following him. His problems never went away but he did learn how to manage them (and it took him a long long time). I hope that makes sense, I find comfort in the fact that despite how dark things seem to get, if you keep fighting they do get better, or rather we get better.

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    • It’s ok to be late. Better than to have never shown up at all! A Beautiful Mind is a great movie about adapting and survival and managing our thoughts. It does make sense. And I’m still fighting, just perhaps temporarily wallowing. 😀

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