Something is Wrong
Something is wrong with me. It is unbelievably hard to admit it to myself and impossible to admit to anyone else. The shame is overwhelming. I hate myself so much because I am intelligent enough to know I’m defective, but cannot change it. I’ve tried so hard to be normal. I have become a master of deception. I can pretend that all is well so good that I believe it myself sometimes. I just keep hoping that if I pretend long enough it will become true. What did I do to deserve this? Most of the time I just wish it would be over. The suicidal urges are so great that they get harder and harder to resist.
There have been many opportunities to get help, but I throw them all away because it is so hard to open myself up to even more shame and criticism and judgment. I’m not a bad person. I try really hard to function like everyone else. I can maintain the facade of normality for very long periods of time. Until the past year and a half I have been able to fool everyone.
There are only a few people who know part of the truth about me: Tori and Dudney know the most, but that is only because they have lived with me and it’s hard to hide things 24/7. They both lived with me when I went through a mother of all major depressive episodes, which lasted 5 months. It was impossible for me to hide.
Jess and our mom also know some of it. Jess knows because she rescued me when a cutting episode turned deadly. Mom knows now because she had to pick me up from the hospital a few days ago because a self-injury session escalated into 2 6-inch long 3/4 inch deep lacerations which needed 27 stitches.
I’m scared, ashamed, embarrassed, angry, guilty, and incredibly sad. The hospital tried to admit me, but I escaped as soon as they left me alone. I know I should have stayed and gotten treatment, but I couldn’t risk losing my job. My job is the only thing in my life that I feel like I’m good at it. My old team lead recognizes my hard work and wants me to move up in the company. How can I do that if I’m in some psych ward somewhere?
So I am coping the way I usually do, isolate myself from emotions and put on that fake smile and pretend that all is well with me and the world even though I’m being ripped apart inside.
On this day..
About BipolarChick (599 posts)
I’m a thirty-something bipolar woman, an advanced tech agent with a pay tv provider, tax preparer for a local charity, current Tulsa inhabitant, and I’m one credit shy of an Associate Degree in Liberal Arts. I’m working on recovery from self-injury and working toward stabilizing my bipolar symptoms. Recovery is very important to me. I’ve been mostly single the past few years and plagued by a seemingly never-ending series of jackasses, assholes, and married men. I have no children of my own, but I have lots of nieces and nephews I love to spoil.