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

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