Delusions of Grandeur

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In case it's not obvious, I am pretty much self-treating at the moment. I don't have a therapist and don't take meds for my Bipolar. I have taken or well at least been prescribed meds in the past, but never really took them. My therapists were never much concerned. I had state health care which never covered more than a few weeks sessions so I never really saw them unless I had just downed a bottle of pills or two.

The first year of my marriage to Jigger was basically a rinse and repeat of my past. Fighting, yelling, screaming, throwing things and Jigger would get pissed every now and then too. After trying for a year to make Jigger leave/hate me, I gave up and since then have been seeing Dr. Google. He is all I can afford at the moment, but in all fairness, Dr. Google has probably helped me more than the 10+ years of on/off therapy and 3 hospitalizations for suicide and "nervous breakdowns" so I don't want to diss him too much.

Even though he has helped me, he is no substitute for the real thing. I do not recommend his services. You should find a doctor in your area. One that is preferably human and has the ability to write prescriptions. I do not believe a bipolar person can be stable without medications and therapy. At the moment, I am steady, but anything can rock my boat and I will fall into the abyss once again. So please do not think because I seem ok without meds that you or your loved one will be ok without meds. I am a ticking timebomb and sooner or later I will explode.

Where was I? Oh yea blogging.

 I started blogging as a way for me to clear my head and focus.  I will never be able to educate others the way Haven and Natasha do, but I hope that by sharing my experiences and how I felt while things were happening that friends and family of people with bipolar might gain a better understanding as to what is going on inside the mind of bipolar. Every person's experience is different, but in some ways it is very much the same.

I have learned a lot in the few weeks I have been blogging. Met some amazing people, some I dare to call "friends", but through all of my reading, researching, and discovering I have yet to find anyone who has shared a personal experience on one very important aspect of bipolar. Whenever you read anything on bipolar, there is always a list of symptoms, and on that list is a symptom that almost all people with bipolar experience in some form or fashion.

That symptom is grandiose delusions. In simple terms, it means "thinking you're better at (insert noun here)  than others". That definition however does not do justice to the reality of this symptom. One common and less extreme example is suddenly believing you're the best damn artist there is. You go out and buy every paint brush, canvas, oil, easel, etc that you can get your hands on. You buy all of this with your rent money, and in a couple weeks when the mania has subsided a bit and the "grandeur" has faded, you realize your stick figures aren't that great and how the fuck am I gonna pay the rent now?

My delusions were a bit different. I told you about my mother (if you didn't read it but want to then the post is here) because I wanted you to understand what would drive a person "mad". Especially when that person is already standing on the cliff, it doesn't take much to push them over the edge.

If you're still reading at this point, I thank you for being patient with me as this is a very sensitive subject. One I want to share because I know there are others out there, but also one that truly labels me as "crazy". Not just crazy but one who flew over the cuckoo's nest crazy.

You see in this vulnerable state after the last time I saw my mother, I met the wrong person. I became extremely religious, but don't think I sat around praying all the time because I didn't. I did however start to believe that I had a special relationship with God that others didn't, and through the help of this wrong person I began to believe that I was specially chosen by God to complete a purpose and to prepare an army for the return of the Savior.

I will give you a moment to digest that before telling you that I believed I could see "spirits" who guided me, told me about future events, and I even believed I could read the minds of others. I believed this so strongly that I sold all of my possessions and moved to another country  in order to fulfill my mission. There really should be psyche tests in order to get your passport.

I lived in this state of delusion for a little over a year. When the delusion crashed and burned so did I. I went from being the guide of the Savior to being the absolute best motherfucking whore that I could be.

That is how far  the other way I swung. I felt that I had blasphemed to such an extent that I was destined to hell for all of eternity so what was one more sin added to the list? You can't kill a dead man. That was my philosophy.

During these three years I had moments of sanity. Moments where I would attempt to straighten my life out and get back on track, but my view of reality was so skewed that everything I did just dragged me down farther and farther. When you sleep in the mud, you can't really expect the pigs to help you get clean.

I became trapped in a vicious downward spiral. The more I tried to get out the further I fell. This is also how I ended up being a "kept woman".

I really don't know how I didn't end up murdered considering all of the shit I did during those 3 years.  Every night I begged God to just let me die. I would often fall asleep on the floor in a kneeling position. I would spend hours and hours begging, "Please don't let me wake up tomorrow". For whatever reason though I never contemplated suicide. I was too ashamed to commit suicide if that even makes any sense at all. I cut myself almost daily. I have been a cutter since I was about 12. Although I have only done it a handful of times since I married Jigger. When he saw the scars, he made me promise to NEVER do it again. I have kept that promise as best as I could. I started this blog as an attempt to keep that promise. I had become severely depressed and was sitting with the razor blade in my hand. My brain literally screaming like it was on fire. For some bizarre reason, blogging seemed the perfect alternative. So here I am. Dumping my shit on you.

My point in sharing all of this is that if you see your loved one suddenly think they are superman in some area or if their behavior suddenly changes and they start doing things like selling off ALL of their possessions and applying for a passport, then don't assume they are just being selfish. Don't assume they are choosing themselves over their family. Most likely they are having a manic episode and they need help. Immediately. So please help them. You can always yell at them later for being a dumbass, but if they sail away and fall off the edge of the earth, then it makes it a bit harder for them to say they are sorry when they come back to reality. If they ever come back at all.

I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread my wings and fly away
I believe I can soar

 

"i believe i can fly - r kelly"