A letter to My Bipolar Depression

bpdI wish I didn’t have you as a part of my life. I thought at one point I had accepted you, the sadness, the crying, the depressed side of bipolar, but no. How can you expect me to accept you?

All the hours, minutes and seconds of my life wasted in a horrible fog that I find difficult to explain to others. I’d wake up screaming at a monstrous event that happened long ago though felt real as day, the here and now visiting. A flash-storm of tears flowed down my cheeks, putting me to sleep once again.

The morning followed and the dreaded task of swallowing the pills that I am told would sub side the monster of depression, and lighten me up for a better day that has yet to come. With no luck at all, I close my eyes and pray. I am still sad, sadness that has yet to be broken and showed the light, I feel helpless. Bipolar depression I despise you for making me your tool.

My day seems like a pointless routine, in which you make me suffer with every step. I am trapped inside a beautiful body that I haven’t appreciated for some time. This depression brings out other monsters too; evil laughter, condescending voices along with visual hallucinations. They tell me I am not good enough and show creatures being tortured to a bloody and horrible death they accept. Why bipolar depression, why?

I walk about my day outside, trying to escape but you follow me everywhere, a shadow I don’t want. I run and hide, but you beat me every time, everywhere I don’t understand why you choose me to play this game with.

Bipolar depression leave me be. I want to smile and not have it hurt. I want to laugh without becoming scared that your arms will close around my throat. I want to hugged and not have it feel like there’s a knife at my sides. I’d like to not see bugs in my food and drink so that I may enjoy a delicious meal. I would like to enjoy nature, going to the movies, a nice restaurant and so on without seeing people and things that aren’t there, and hearing the most awful things imagined. Please leave me be.

I am afraid of living that I have almost answered the call to go beyond this world and join another before my time. Until next time, G. Merced, fighting


a monster called anxiety

The monsters in my life are anxiety, depression, mania, myself and panic. Each posed their own threat to lives. Do you see this in me, when you look into my eyes?

How could you?


You glance into my light brown eyes and see something different, that wasn’t there a few seconds prior. You hesitate because you’re not sure which phase has taken over, panic, mania attack, depression or anxiety. You wonder what kind of protection is needed, then you realize the evil truth of anxiety, and you witness me begin to shake, sweat, mutter, cry, scream, and eventually fall down to my knees or run away all at once.

What do you do?

Confusion comes to mind and you begin looking around asking “what is wrong? what can I
do? why are you acting this way?” and so on.

You not knowing what to do frustrates me and makes this anxiety attack worse than what it could have been if you said something reassuring like “okay, you’re going to be fine, let’s just sit here and breathe.” This will not sink into my brain until you are next to or in front of me with your full attention, as the next 5-15 minutes are going to be pure hell for me. I just want to know I am not alone and for you to find my rescue pouch with all my meds and locate the special Xanax pill. Give it some time, but I will climb down from my high pyramid, and will need some time to rest.

After this I will feel horribly embarrassed and will shy out of being in society for a little while, whether it be out in public or home. But don’t worry I’ll be back. You may even witness my other monsters, depression, mania, myself or panic come out. Until next time, G. Merced, annoyed.


one saying, my meaning


Your past can not hurt you anymore.

To that saying I simply say, “yeah right!” My mental disorders were hidden, diagnosis-ed and every symptom and side effect that happened then lingers into the now, haunting me. An example of this is the loss of many relationships with friends and family. Each person in these categories were inflicted with some type of pain that also stings, hurting me. I left home for basic training for the Navy and my so called best buddies said they’d keep in contact, but just as fast as I boarded the plane, our friendships ended, once I said “I
wouldn’t be able to call or write everyday.” I suppose they took it as an insult, so I proclaimed they just didn’t support my decision to fight for our country.

To this day it hurts me that I just didn’t keep my mouth shut. I could have gone about it a little differently, rather than be harshly blunt about the reality of training.

This decision may seem petty, but I know it was more than that.Another decision made that hurts me today, are the number of suicidal attempts. These times were not glamorous for me as I had reached rocks bottom. Today I have the scares, the loss of trust and the bills pilling up to hurt me. Not petty, not one damn bit!

So you tell me, my past can not hurt? G. Merced, pensive

Beginnings & Progress of Hallucinations


Visual and auditory hallucinations are not fun in my opinion, they are scary and difficult to understand. Every now-n-then I experienced one or both of these, yet once I hit my twenties it became a regular part of the day.

At the beginning I was confused and acted as though nothing was there, that I wasn’t hearing anything.

Then before my diagnosis I was sure what I was seeing and hearing was normal, that everyone could her and see what I heard and saw. I began to talk back to my voices and would question people as to what I saw and thought they saw as well. I’d ask, “did you see that?” with me just receiving the response of, “what?”

This continued for some time, until my psychiatrist told me something I’ll never forget, “you are special, I wish I could see and hear what you see and hear.” Now mind you I had a puzzled look on my face because I was seeing the image of a tall male, toned and buff, with crocodile teeth finger nails, octopus arms holding a silver plated pistol, and the skull was on fire, hanging over him. At this puzzled look he smiled and asked me what I saw, I looked down, which DIDN’T help, another image appeared and I ran out of my psychiatrist’s office screaming, out to the parking lot and waited to see if it would all just stop. Needless to say, I am still waiting.


Yesterday was particularly difficult as something new has reared its ugly presence into my head; MONSTERS, DEMONS, DEVILS, take your pick they’re all there. I was able to be composed throughout the day by some miracle, that as soon as the last light went off, with all the guys asleep I let it all out on my anger pillow. I screamed a little and cried a lot, tears streamed down my face as I began the torturous task of putting myself to sleep. Perhaps I should have taken advice from the song 7 Years and go out and make some friends or I’ll be lonely. But what would I tell them about my current status? Is it important? Then I realized something, all these years I just said, “I’m seeing…or…hearing something” with no detail. Now, however, little by little I am describing my visual and auditory hallucinations and its scary. I feel like I being looked at differently and constantly being asked exactly what do I see and hear; and this bothers me since I feel I already am being terrified to death, that I don’t wish to inflict that on someone else. Until next time, G. Merced, erratic.

my hypo-mania today

isI have been trying to write for a couple nights now with no avail. This is due to what I believe is both my bipolar disorder and that of the emotional me. I have been lost between mania and depression, hypo-mania as it is referred to, somewhere I haven’t been for awhile, so coping has proven to be quite difficult. Being emotional is one thing, but when they all come at once it is overwhelming. Putting on a brave face for others to see while I am breaking down inside has become routine, what about for you?

Trouble concentrating

Over eating/Not eating enough


Becoming angry at any/everything

Night terrors



Grandiose ideas

Spending spree


Staring out into the abyss

Unmotivated/extreme motivation


These and many more side effects/symptoms occurring within the last two days. One thing that has helped is exercising and cooking/baking. Until I can gain some insight, G. Merced, perplexed.

To Me, Emotions


I am not ashamed I have Bipolar,

I am ashamed of those who

don’t love me because of it.

Love me for who I am

not what I have.

It’s not a choicd taken

rather a gifted curse given.

I scream, cry and yell out in happiness and despair.

My face shows a hundred emotions,

in the blink of an eye

Life changes.

A bitter darkness awakens

Bipolar is my home

I ask to be granted mercy,

but the feeling of hatred iz shoan.

Adversity meets the eyes of compassion

love is born

for those that understand,

it is a burden, but I smile.