For the longest time, my life was filled with depression; existential sadness and sometimes with addition seasonal sadness to create more sad and less motivated me. When the euphoria of my sleepless nights finally hit, it was game over. Move over depression, manic panic for the win!

I think it’s easy to glamorize the effects of mania and/or hypomania. Everyone is different, however, for me? I straight up think that depression saved my life from experiencing full blown manic episodes. Before things got too bad, the next day I found myself sleeping for 15+ hours, not drinking water, not doing self care stuff, etc. Mania, or in my case, hypomania, which is a lesser form of mania, but no less destructive, can destroy a human. The illness makes folks think that they are invincible, do not need mental health medications any more if they were even on any to begin with, and then forces you to pick an addiction or vice to fall prey to, and voila! You’re stuck with that vice and the disease makes you choose between family and friends or yourself with your vices, but you can’t have both. And most people who choose wrong, die.

I feel like my writing reads like I am wanting to make assumptions for folks with severe mental illness such as schizoaffective, bipolar 1 and 2, and other mental health disorders. But to make my claims more reputable, just remember the fact that I was diagnosed Bipolar II at 18, and then re-diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder at 26, which is a giant melting pot of disorders like schizophrenia and bipolar mainly with attributes of anxiety and depression. The psychiatrist at the psych ward I worked out always said that folks with schizoaffective disorder have the worst chances of success with their mental health because they are the most susceptible population to be vulnerable and try things most people wouldn’t partake in, this population is also susceptible to not thinking that they “have a problem” and so they do not think medication for mental health should be required of them. And of course, if you do medicate someone with these psychiatric meds, they say they don’t work so they quit taking them. Or they feel weird or different as well as “don’t feel like themselves.”

In my humble opinion, I personally think those with borderline personality disorder has the hardest time with remaining medicated, not self harming, etc. I think each mental health disorder has its hardships on a spectrum, so some cases are less severe than others and some people you think that they’ll never get a break from their mind. But everyone is different and even though we are created equal, our personal attributes are not always equitable. But I digress.

The last few weeks or so, I have been struggling with a pinched nerve in my neck and back and six months ago, I had an MRI done that showed three herniated discs in my cervical spine. SO that started acting up again so when I was forced to go to the ER due to neck and back pain, they did another CT scan which showed that those were still in full effect in addition to a pinched nerve. Muscle relaxers and prednisone later, I’m semi functional again. But the prednisone messed with my mania, which is now full blown mania… nothing makes sense. I am not thinking rationally. I have been jobless for almost six months now and I think it’s quite impressive that I haven’t had a stay in the local psych ward.

I have been diligently taking all of my psych meds, but it feels as though they are defective. No point in calling my PCP; she’s on holiday and I already have a follow up on January 7th.

Now it doesn’t help matters that on the 5th, my husband Kyle finds out if he needs another bowel surgery and a colostomy bag with it because he’s 6’3″ and weighs about 149 lbs soaking wet (no exaggeration; he’s skin and bones.) Where does this leave me? Supporting him more and then what about my mental health? Back burner. It don’t matter. It’s the Kyle show and it’s all about Kyle. I’m not attention seeking, but even my family and my friends don’t think to assume “How’s Dani doing with all this?” No it’s: “How’s Kyle? What can we do to support Kyle?”

Yes he needs support; but I do too. I want to act out in ways that would only give into the disease of mental health and illness. I feel as though just because I am not in physical pain every waking moment that my health is passed on by and has been all year. It frustrates me because I feel like my issues are “less than” because it’s not so dramatic or obvious.

Anytime I mention my health to Kyle, I may make a passing remark that my neck is extra sore today for example, he always has to one up me which isn’t f*cking hard to do. At that point, I just give up. There is not point to vent my frustrations and my pain because it is than minimized to air particles that I exhale in exasperation. I shut my mouth and move on. How can I support you, Kyle? What can I do for you to help with your pain? Continue to wait on you hand and foot when you get home from work since you work so hard for your money that I just appear to spend not frugally? Make my worth shown by keeping up with home made gluten and wheat free dinners ever night, making him lunch and snacks throughout the day, keeping up on house chores so once you’re home, you don’t have a single stressor or responsibility?

Maybe I am growing resentful. Maybe it’s just my mania demonizing my husband. I do want to serve him as my husband. I do want to lower his stresses. But he gets to vent to everyone at his job; anyone who will listen to him. So when I go to him with my issues, it feels as though it’s getting swept under the rug because I don’t have anyone else to vent to. I guess that’s why I am writing today. I don’t want to be angry or resentful. I just want to move on because I keep reliving this trauma day by day and it’s literally making me insane.

I hate using that word. When I say ‘insane’, I mean I jump to conclusions that aren’t cohesive. My brain comes up with delusions that I’d be better off with literally anyone else, even those people who have seriously hurt me emotionally in my past. But romanticizing old situationships doesn’t make me happy either. Actually it infuriates me. I don’t want to think about the grass being greener on the other side because if I contemplate things too long; I am hopping that fence.

I love Kyle. So, please do not misunderstand me. But with my mental health being so fragile and I am sleeping poorly due to my physical pain, I stay up all hours of the night just wondering as images and scenes fly through my head as I doom scroll social media. Then the social media f*cks you over by showing “people you may know” and it is ALWAYS the person that I was thinking about, fantasizing other scenarios of them and I in my head like maybe they wouldn’t be terminally ill. Maybe they would treat me better. Maybe they have more money or maybe I’d be better off, physically, emotionally, spiritually. I’ll say it again: I love my husband. I’d do just about anything to see him smile and make him laugh and keep him happy. But when is it my turn?

When?

-Dani