Monday, October 20, 2014

Fake Control and Contradictions

I'm afraid of myself.

When I say that, I'm pretty sure most people think that means because I tried to kill myself, or because I became someone else for all intents and purposes for 3 weeks several years ago. The thing is, not so much. Those are big things, but big things are easier to control and categorize in my head. What I'm afraid of is so much more, so much deeper, than those things. What I'm afraid of is truly me.

I'm a bag of contradiction. I'm afraid of my feelings and thankful for medication that helps me to control them, but I'm afraid of the fact that they are still there. They sit beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to emerge when my medication is weakest in my system or I'm just not trying as hard as I should. Then they rear up like a monster in a creature feature, taking over the silver screen that is my head, and I have no control.

It's then I remember how hard I had to work to keep those emotions in check. Keep them hidden inside where people didn't see them. I was screaming so loud in my head begging people to see the truth, but still afraid of what they would then think of me, how weak I am, how unable to just be human.

Then I realize that I'm losing that control, and I'm afraid of not taking my meds. I'm afraid of the me that is lurking beneath the surface of calm that is medically induced, because the exterior calm, the facade of control is slipping from my grasp, my actual control. If I don't take them I will lose the respect of those around me, because everyone who was surprised by my recent diagnosis of bipolar just never saw the me beneath the smile, and I'm not sure I will ever be that person again.

That's when I realize I'm afraid of continuing to take my meds. Two reasons for this. One is....because I am losing my control and meds should be a stopgap, not an end all be all to the issues I have in my head. Two is because, sometimes it physically hurts to have the feelings echoing beneath the surface and not feel them. I miss the highs. I miss the feeling of the smiles being real because they came from that place deep in my soul that knew I was invincible and nothing could really hurt me. I even miss the lows that were so all consuming that everything was dark around me. There was no hope and the smiles had to come from an even deeper place because they had to be physically pulled out for the sake of the world around me. I just don't feel things that way on my medication. Just the echo of what was.

So, I don't want to feel, but I do want to feel.

I don't want to lose control, but I do want to lose control.

I don't want to lose MY control, but I'm glad to have something that makes it okay to lose.

My logical side and my emotional side are having a daily argument, and I'm still waiting to see who will win out. Of course, since they are both full of contradictory arguments themselves, I don't really know what one winning over the other will mean.


  1. I had a bipolar friend who refused the meds and died from risky behavior. I had a bipolar parent who refused the meds and has little or no memory of the ongoing abuse of everyone in the household that happened because of it. Meds may be numbing but they are a tool and as such should be utilized for as long as medically neccessary. Even if that means, in some form, a lifetime.

  2. No matter how hard they are, I have an inkling of what would happen to me if I stopped taking them. I will do the right thing and keep taking them no matter how I feel. I just want people to understand that's it's hard to stay on them, and a little bit why (at least for me, I don't think I speak for everyone, by any means.)


GROUP HUG!!!! Friends make everything better.

GROUP HUG!!!! Friends make everything better.