I recently discovered I have bipolar disorder.
It all made sense after reading about the symptoms -- every single one mirrored my life. For days, sometimes weeks, I drown in sadness, in the weight of thoughts I can't escape. Thoughts about death. About disappearing. And just when I think I'm too empty to feel anything else, the opposite side of me strikes.
Suddenly, I'm too happy. Laughing like there's no pain. Smiling endlessly. Restless. Energetic. Like the world has flipped. It's strange... to shift from wanting to die to feeling like I own the world. This is my reality.
They say suicide is a sin. I grew up believing that too. But when you're in the middle of that storm -- when the thoughts won't stop -- sin is the last thing on your mind. They also say, "Problems are just temporary, but suicide is permanent." Really? How temporary are these problems? An hour? A day? Because mine follow me like shadows. They wake up when I do. And sometimes, I don't sleep at all.
It's painful. It's terrifying how often my mind drifts to suicide. And worse, how much comfort I find in thinking about it -- like it's some kind of solution. I don't want to kill myself... but I also don't know how else to escape this pain without doing exacty that.
Still, something holds me back. Maybe it's my faith. Maybe guilt. Maybe love.
I endure everything -- the sadness, the spiraling thoughts, the noise in my head, even the joy that doesn't feel completely real. I endure it all. But I can't even tell you why.
All I know is this: I have problems. I feel like I can't graduate college. I can't see myself getting a job. I can't picture myself achieving my dreams. And yet, the thought of leaving hurts even more.
It breaks my heart to think about the people I'd leave behind. My parents. My siblings. My friends. Even if we argue, I love them -- deeply, always. That love hasn't disappeared, even if everything else feels like it has.
So here I am, still enduring.
Not because I'm strong.
Not because I have figured it out.
But because somehow, love keeps me here.
And maybe, for now, that's enough.
It all made sense after reading about the symptoms -- every single one mirrored my life. For days, sometimes weeks, I drown in sadness, in the weight of thoughts I can't escape. Thoughts about death. About disappearing. And just when I think I'm too empty to feel anything else, the opposite side of me strikes.
Suddenly, I'm too happy. Laughing like there's no pain. Smiling endlessly. Restless. Energetic. Like the world has flipped. It's strange... to shift from wanting to die to feeling like I own the world. This is my reality.
They say suicide is a sin. I grew up believing that too. But when you're in the middle of that storm -- when the thoughts won't stop -- sin is the last thing on your mind. They also say, "Problems are just temporary, but suicide is permanent." Really? How temporary are these problems? An hour? A day? Because mine follow me like shadows. They wake up when I do. And sometimes, I don't sleep at all.
It's painful. It's terrifying how often my mind drifts to suicide. And worse, how much comfort I find in thinking about it -- like it's some kind of solution. I don't want to kill myself... but I also don't know how else to escape this pain without doing exacty that.
Still, something holds me back. Maybe it's my faith. Maybe guilt. Maybe love.
I endure everything -- the sadness, the spiraling thoughts, the noise in my head, even the joy that doesn't feel completely real. I endure it all. But I can't even tell you why.
All I know is this: I have problems. I feel like I can't graduate college. I can't see myself getting a job. I can't picture myself achieving my dreams. And yet, the thought of leaving hurts even more.
It breaks my heart to think about the people I'd leave behind. My parents. My siblings. My friends. Even if we argue, I love them -- deeply, always. That love hasn't disappeared, even if everything else feels like it has.
So here I am, still enduring.
Not because I'm strong.
Not because I have figured it out.
But because somehow, love keeps me here.
And maybe, for now, that's enough.
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