I’m not your average young adult. I’m not your normal female. I’ve struggled, I’ve had a past, and my past seems to be taking over my future. It scares me so bad that I’ll never rise above myself and become who I want to be, but I’m trying. God, I am trying.
I was recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder by not only one mental healthcare practitioner, but two. That was the scariest part. Realizing that two professionals without realizing what the other diagnosed me with, diagnosed me with the same thing. I don’t want to be bipolar. It scares me that one day I’ll go completely crazy. I’ve started turning from my medication already. I believe it doesn’t help like it should, and it makes me weaker as a human. It numbs me in places where I don’t want to be numb. It’s stripped me of my creativity, and that breaks my heart. I used to turn to creativity to relieve the pain. Now I don’t know what to do. I’m a recovering cutter, and I’m trying to fight the desire to continue cutting every single day.
A part of me thinks I’m strong because I’m turning from my medication and I’m not cutting anymore, but another part of me knows I’m so weak and only one small thing will make me crack.
What I’m most scared of is having children one day and not being able to be strong enough to hang on for them. I want to be apart of their lives for as long as the Lord allows me to be, but I’m scared I may take my own life if I can’t handle things. I’ve got several tattoos to remind me to be strong, to remind me to never take my own life, to remind me to keep going. They help. Sometimes.
When people give up on you because you’re crazy or they can’t handle you, nothing hurts worse than that. I’m still trying to heal. Both from people giving up and from hearing my diagnoses. I’m learning how to cope, and that to me, is beautiful.
(carljkcarley)
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