There is a smile. It's on everybodys face at some stage in their lives. It's the smile which knows pain.
You might think that only a few unfortunate people can have this smile.
That would be a mistake.
This smile will strike everyone, and ignore no-one.
It's shown to another who seems to be doing fine.
They might be fine just now, but one day the smile will pass across their lips.
It hurts.
I decided to return to an old blog format, one that consists of many different elements - basically I can't think of one big idea, so I'm throwing a few in at once. Plus my journal ran out of pages but the car's in the shop so haven't gotten around to getting a new one...
To be honest a few things have happened in the past week...Will and I are floating the idea of moving back to Guernsey. They do a few places for nurse training reguated by the UEA and if I could get one then we could move back. Naturally it's not that simple and the idea comes with the necessity of finding the money to rent on the 'rich persons haven'.
Lately I have been yearning more and more for the simple life, like I had back at school. Sure there were a lot of mental health problems, that's another point 'for' Guernsey - the healthcare is brilliant, but I still drove my little car to school and around to the beach whenever I wanted. I taught sailing and could go whenever I wanted.
Now of course there is rent and gas and electricity to find, my health rests not with the CAMHS but with the CMHT - nothing is easy anymore.
Will has a boat but it's way down in Dartmouth and we can neither up sticks whenever we want or leave it floating sadly in the harbour down there.
I guess the main deal-breaker is just a tiredness, felt by everyone who has a responsibility - maybe to a partner, or to children, or even to a job. I'm tired of being a grown up. I want to shake my head and stamp my feet. I want to protest that my chidhood was cut short. I want to scream from the rooftops that I am only 19 years old.
19 years. That's all I've had - even Will has had 22 - did I miss the classes on paying rent? Organising Dentist appointments? Paying for petrol? My sister is 15 years old, the same age as me when I first attempted suicide. That's scary, that petrifies me everyday. Since I was 15 I've done a lot...I've been to A&E in about 10 hospitals, I've gotten into Uni - and left, I've gotten pregnant - and miscarried. Why did it all have to happen so soon? Why are my arms littered with scars? Why do I take anti-psychotics every morning, not birth control? Why-oh-why are my liver function tests so bad you'd think I was a 50 year old alcoholic?
And then there are the people...why did I disappoint my Mum? Why did I hurt Dad? Why have I abandoned my baby sisters?
I know an episode is coming, I will regret writing this diatribe. But I also know that I don't understand, anything.
PS I will seek medical help in the morning.
About Me
- Nikita
- I'm Nikita and I'm whatever you want me to be. I am a bipolar nothing. A student with no course. I am a writer and a critic. I'm a southerner who strayed north. I read with closed eyes. I take anti-psychotics and mood stabilisers and anti-depressants. My arms are littered with scars. I'm a dreamer who woke up. I am in love. aloha x
My first ever award, Thank you Patricia!
6 comments:
Hi Niki, wow you pack some stuff into your posts...:)
Yeah I think we all need a childhood and if we don't get it when we are younger I reckon we grab it when we can as we get older...or rather we can...apart from yes we have bills to pay etc etc
but that doesn't stop us having the fun we should have had then, and relishing our freedom when we get it
Your scars, your life since 15, all of that gives you a huge perspective on life... far more than many have...you survived and came through it, and now you're moving forwards...
Seeing your sister at the same age must be very odd and you said she looks like you too - you know it doesn't mean she will do the same as you don't you?
And the people.. we all hurt people regardless of how we try not to...and you know what - they hurt us too at times...and my does it hurt like hell.
Some things we are, can and should take responsibility for, and others aren't purely us, and often they aren't our fault at all, we just think they are...
sending love, hang on in there and pleased you recognise in yourself when you need to seek medical help, hugs, Katie, x
I hope she won't Katie, but the genetic links of Bipolar scare me!
Thank you for your kind words, and your calm comments on a traumatic post. Wish I could say more.
I found your blog via Paul's...thank you for sharing your story. My mom has bipolar, a mild case, however as she has aged, her episodes has become more frequent. Can't handle stress situations like she used to. She is in denial most days. ( takes her meds regularly though) It has been very hard on my dad and I- to know how to help. I don't take things personally and hold no bitterness. I'm glad to read your side of the story and what you go through. It helps us family members. Don't be afraid to get the help you need. In a way it's just like having diabetes. God Bless, Karyne
Hi Karyne, thank you so much for dropping by. I am always a little nervous meeting people 'on the other side' of the madness of bipolar. But it's brilliant to know that you have that outlook on things...I am sure my partner would love to feel like that...but it is early days.
Hope to see you around here someday soon. x
a smile that knows pain are the best kind of smiles...
i agree paul, good to see you
Post a Comment