This is a brief overview of my bipolar life. An introduction to some of the things I will be writing about on The Bipolar Cook.
The other day I was sitting back, inhaling some medication, listening to some Marley after eating a delicious Breakfast Wrap I felt a sudden itch to write. A thousand and one topics ran through my mind, mostly about events that had occurred over the years and about the lessons learned, feelings felt, and relationships lost and found. I have often times thought of writing a book, which I know nothing about, in fact, I feel that my writing skills are poor at best, however, I did write many things while I was in the hospital for weeks after my suicide attempt and in rehab for months for a 17 year gambling addiction. I wrote a daily journal about my trials and tribulations, small rants about life, suicide, death, family, love, drugs, and a wide variety of other subjects which I will begin to share over time here on TheBipolarCook. While reviewing some of them and reflecting, I thought even though I feel my skills are poor, I will write a few short stories about events past and see if it sparks any interest or maybe I will find someone with similar experiences and that would inspire them to share with me in return. Sometimes I feel alone. I feel like I am the only one to have gone through what I have put myself through, but I know there are others. I know there are others that feel what I feel, that see how I see, that have lived what I lived, and I know that it can be so hard to come out and speak about it.
There are somethings that i was able to breakthrough and discuss while I was in rehab, things that I had never spoken about to anyone. Some of those things I will not share again, but just that one time that I did lifted me just a little bit more out of a dark abyss that I had thrown my soul into long ago. It took over 20 years for me to have enough courage to speak to another person about some of the things in my life, secret things, secrets that to me, really define the true struggles and the true reality of who I was, my true self.I have spent a lifetime creating a persona, a wall, the image that was the building blocks of my defense, a way to escape the feelings I had for some of the things I had done in my past due to being Bipolar. As time went by, I lived out this persona, this false image of myself, and new events would occur, and again, I would bury my feelings, build a higher wall, and keep moving on, never facing my true feelings or my true self. Never crying, never really smiling, never really feeling anger, never really knowing or feeling anything. I was hiding from my true self. I ran as far away as I possibly could so many times, so many different parts of this wonderful world I have seen because I could not face myself. Brazil, Argentina, Costa Rica, California, Jamaica, Colorado, Florida, the list is endless, running from one place to the next, from casino to casino, strip club to strip club, restaurant to restaurant, apartment to apartment, condo to condo, one relationship to the next, a constant marathon, a never ending journey to get as far away from my true self as I possibly could.
I have been through so many addictions due to the people I encountered while riding the Bipolar Express. I have been on severe highs and lows that sent me forcefully into addictions with Crystal Meth, Special K, Cocaine, Alcohol, Strip Clubs, Sex, Food, Shopping, Travelling, Business, Smoking, Partying, Clubbing, Dating, and worst of all Gambling.
My life was like a movie, every day ignoring my emotions, my feelings, allowing the BPD to do as it pleased, running and riding the express as far as I could, I would never go home! I would never sleep. I would never stop. I would never say no. I would never slow down. When I did finally slow down, I crashed, crashed hard, so hard that I crashed into the darkest, deepest, most crippling depressions you can imagine. At times I would go months without leaving the bed, literally. I would rapid cycle for days on end but could not even leave the bedroom. I would play Xbox for 18 hours and sleep 6, and then switch a few days later and sleep 18 hours and play Xbox for 6. For months this would go on until I broke free and bought another ticket on the Bipolar Express and then I was off to the races again. Another high and once again I would not stop for a second. I could sit at a poker table for 3 to 4 days gambling, then take a couple shots of vodka, a few lines of cocaine, hit up a strip club, spend a couple thousand, pick up a girl or two, hit a hotel, throw a party for the weekend, and then take a trip to New Orleans, Atlantic City, or anywhere there was good action going on at the time. It was a never ending trip. A constant avoidance of my feelings and true self. There would be times where I would get heavily involved with one of the girls I dated and end up in remote locations, like Brazil, or Costa Rica, but those stories will be told later. The Bipolar Express took me around the world and back again, a few times.
Am I alone? Look deep inside yourself. Are you hiding from your true self? I had to almost die to finally realize and embrace who I am, what I am, who I want to be, and I am finally coming to terms and I am almost able to say I love myself, which I have not been able to do EVER in my life.
More to come!
The Bipolar Cook