October is the best and worst time of year for me. It’s laden with landmines – my grandmother passed away in October 2002 (which was the fuel behind my first full-blown manic episode), my son passed away in October 2004 and my mother passed away in October 2014.
I have a “seasonality” to my bipolar disorder, and I typically get Seasonal Affective Depression (SAD! Haha! Get it?!) starting in late October. I think a lot of extra stress this year has lead to increased suicidal ideation (that means thinking about killing yourself, mostly, though I don’t have a specific “plan” in mind).
My depression is not usually as severe or sudden as it was this year. Shit got really dark, really fast. I want to share a sampling of my internal monologue or “self-talk” as the pros call it.
These are real thoughts that I was having from last Friday through pretty much Monday. Thankfully, I’m feeling tremendously better today.
These thoughts are all 100% BULLSHIT and if you’re having them, or similar ones, there is help and hope for you!
“Cognitive based therapy (CBT or even DBT) is never going to be a long term solution for me because it doesn’t relieve my distress enough to be useful in the short term.”
“Why am I so broken that all the usual methods of fixing this shit don’t pan out for me?”
“What the actual fuck is going on with me that I’m suddenly having so many feelings and they’re uncomfortable and intense?”
“Maybe everyone really would be better off without me around to bring them down and fuck shit up over and over again.”
“Maybe I just have recurring thoughts of killing myself or hurting myself because I’m stressed out and want a relaxing stay at the mental hospital. Cut it out and grab those bootstraps, Lease!”
“It’s never going to get better or be under my control anyway. Why not just let it happen and/or try to fake being happy and contented with life so everyone stops worrying about you?”
“Offloading all these tasks to my spouse will be helpful when he’s a single parent without me around.”
“People with bipolar have, on average, 15-30 years reduced lifespan. If I was going to be 72, then my clock is up pretty soon.”
“My husband can’t afford the house by himself when I die.”