Bipolar Diaries

Reads: 848  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Deleted until latest reviews manuscript can be downloaded

Submitted: December 02, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 02, 2007

A A A

A A A


Bipolar Diaries
 By Juliette Jazz
 
 

Am I lost in the madness

 of a Van Gough painting ? ”
 
 
 

With heartfelt thanks

To
Mum, Dad, Sandy,
hubby,
my children,
& my brother and his wife
 

For loving me unconditionally, and always being there

for me when I was in need.

 
 
 
 
Introduction
 

Firstly, I would like to explain, for those who are unfamiliar with Bipolar Disorder, what it actually is. Bipolar Disorder is a mental illness caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. It is a mood disorder which has symptoms of mania, depression, and anxiety to say the least. Researchers are trying to determine how much is due to the wiring of the brain, and how much is a reaction to outside triggers , such as stressful events in life. The only thing that scientists and doctors agree about, is that Bipolar is genetic.

 

Common behaviour associated with depression includes:

· moodiness that is out of character

· increased irritability and frustration

· finding it hard to take minor personal criticisms

· spending less time with friends and family

· loss of interest in food, sex , exercise and other pleasurable activities

· being awake throughout the night

· increased alcohol and drug use

· staying home from work or school

· increased physical health complaints like fatigue or pain

· slowing down of thoughts

· morbid thoughts

· feeling unlikeable or unworthy of love

· wanting to hide away from the world to escape hurt

· lethargy

· suicide

 
 
 
 
 

Common behaviour associated with mania includes:

 

· increased energy

· irritability

· overactivity

· increased spending

· increased sex drive

· racing thoughts

· rapid speech

· decreased sleep

· grandiose ideas

· hallucinations and/or delusions

· noise and light sensitivity

· spontaneous daring deeds - e.g. speeding, binge drinking, drug use, shoplifting, sexual indiscretions

· impaired ability to make rational choices

 
 
 


 
 
 
 

Common symptoms associated with anxiety include:

 

· heart palpitations

· feeling of fear

· tingling of nerve endings

· fast breathing

· adrenaline pumping (flight or fight reflex on alert)

· sensitive to sudden or loud noises

· loss of concentration

· tremors

 
 
 
 

If symptoms of bipolar are left untreated, they can have a huge impact on partners, families, and friends.

Untreated symptoms of bipolar can lead to :

· marriage problems

· family problems

· financial problems

· difficulties holding down employment

· drug and alcohol use

· anger management problems

· suicide

 
 
 


 
 
 

* (Inserted here will be a mood graph depicting my mood swing time line from 1983 to 2007)

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 

Hello, my name is Juliette. I am 41 years old and am a wife and mother to three wonderful children. I had a very happy childhood, and enjoyed my teenage years very much. This book talks about some of the worst times in my life, but it doesn’t represent my life as a whole, as there were many stable and great times in between bouts of bipolar mood swings. I  worked in both the hospitality and entertainment industries all of my adult life, and I have never felt like I fitted in. You know how it is with night workers…. they party on after work, drinking and such. Well I was never invited, and if I tagged along, I always felt like I was the third leg. I had a raunchy sense of humour that some people didn’t get, and I was often judged as being weird, which made me feel unlikeable. Yet there were other times in my life that I felt invincible, and the life of the party , the sex pot that everyone wanted – where did all those so called  friends disappear to when I needed them? This rollercoaster of moods from down to up started when I was in my early twenties, and as I understand it, will continue until the day I die.

 

My memory is poor, so I can’t remember a lot of my first marriage, but looking back I can recall that I was definitely showing symptoms of Bipolar Disorder back then. I had rages that were out of control, and times of extreme sadness for no reason, and I had an affair that ultimately ended our relationship. It was my choice to leave, I couldn’t live with the guilt. However, I’m so glad I got married, as we had a son who I love dearly and is into music like myself , of whom I am extremely proud.

 

When I met my second husband, I was hypermanic, which is a mood between normal and manic. The senses are high but not out of control. He fell in love with my bubbly, energetic personality, and it was a whirlwind romance. However it wasn’t long before he saw the other sides to me and got a sense of what he had signed his life away to. He definitely got a bad deal in some ways, but then again, I have cooked for him, and washed his clothes, and raised his children and loved him, so I have not been a total failure as a wife.

 

After the birth of my third child, I became depressed. I was extremely upset because I was unable to produce breast milk (this had happened with both my previous children), and I felt like a failure as a mother. I had always imagined the perfect scene of the baby suckling the mothers breast, both mother and child smiling in total contentment. But it never turned out that way for me, and no matter how hard I pumped, and pumped and pumped my poor sore titties, there was never enough milk. I was a bad cow ! I hoped to get over that early obstacle, but my days of constant crying and feeling worthless , continued into weeks, and months, until it became obvious that help was needed. I went to my family G.P. and he diagnosed Post Natal Depression, and prescribed Zoloft – antidepressants. It took two weeks for them to kick in, and then I felt the cloud start to lift,  the tears dried up, and I noticed the sun shining brightly. However, my mood continued to lift higher and higher, and it felt fantastic. It felt like I was taking wonder pills.

 

I went for an interview to go back to work, and got a job at a local restaurant, waitressing. The owner noticed on my resume that I was a singer and offered for me to sing as well as waitress at the restaurant, and I accepted. In no time my confidence level was soaring and I was telling the owner how to improve service standards, and when I was singing, I was dressing like a diva in the most outrageous costumes, which were much too over the top for a small town restaurant.

As far as I was concerned I was Liza Minelli singing to thousands of fans in Vegas. My boss began flirting with me, and in my high mood I played along because it was daring and fun.He would say in my ear, “every man in this place wants you….they might be sitting with their wives, but they are looking at you with a hard on”. He said things like that all the time, and after a while, I started to believe it. I felt like a modern day Marylin Monroe. The trouble was, I had no thought for consequences. I began to drink a lot when I was singing with him, and one night, he invited me back to his place to rehearse some new songs for our repertoire. That was the start of a wild affair which I will not go into detail due to shame on my part, and with respect to my long suffering husband. When my husband found out about the affair, he  understandably went wild, and made many threats. My boss had given me a dvd player as a gift, so my husband picked it up along with a base ball bat, and took off in his car to my boss’s house. I was frightened for both of them, because I knew that my husband was a mean fighter, and I didn’t want him to hurt my boss, or end up in jail. I was also scared for my husband, because I knew that my boss carried a gun in his glove box of his car, and I didn’t know if he would use it in self defence. I rang my boss on his mobile phone to warn him that my husband was on his way over, and he made sure that he was not at home. My husband threw the dvd player on my boss’s front door step and bashed it with the baseball bat in sheer frustration at not being able to take his anger out on him personally. 

 

 I lost many friends at the same time, because they were aware of the affair and were trying to stop me, but I kept denying that I was doing anything wrong.

 
 
 


 
 
 
 

Suddenly it hit me, that I might lose all my friends, my family, my husband, my job…all that was dear to me in one hit. Again, I went to my G.P. for help. I told him that I was still taking antidepressants but my mood was elation and even though I had done so many bad things, I felt no guilt.I knew what I should be feeling, but my moods were not matching my thoughts. My brain said to me, you should be scared, guilty, etc but I felt uncharacteristically euphoric. What was wrong with me?My G.P. said I should see a phychiatrist to get a proper diagnosis, and I must stop taking the antidepressants immediately.

 

Dr. Martin was my saviour. He listened as I described my behaviour over the years. Countless ups and downs and situations where I had made bad choices and gotten myself into dangerous situations. I had been wracked with guilt for many years over some bad choices I had made. I started to reflect on my recent years and could recall many instances in which I had been manic or depressed , and not understood it at the time. I ruined my first marriage by having an affair, and I remember having rages over the smallest things and smashing stuff like a madwoman. One time, I gave a friend a lift home from a club because he was too drunk to drive, and when we reached his house, I kissed him good night, which he took as an invitation for sex. He dragged me inside his house and raped me, and I never reported it, because I felt that I had led him on by kissing him in the first place. I always blamed myself, and that’s what dragged me down into depression – self loathing.

 

My life changed when I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. When Dr. Martin explained the symptoms, and how the brain worked, it all made perfect sense to me, and I wished I had seen him years earlier to have saved myself, my family, both my husbands and everyone around me such confusion and heartbreak. I felt such a weight off my shoulders to actually have a name and reason for my odd behaviour.For so long, I had labelled myself too emotional, or a bad person, or unlikable, but now I could change that around and say…” I AM NOT BAD, I AM SICK”. What a revelation ! Now it was just a matter of getting a plan together. A plan that included regular visits to see Dr. Martin, appropriate medication, a mood chart, and diary notes.Getting the right medication for me was the hard part, as all of the mood suppressants, mood stabilizers, anti phychotics etc… had side effects. The side effects included: tremors, dizziness, dry mouth, weight gain, diorreah, and memory loss.

 
 

I wrote this book in the hope to educate the general public about bipolar disorder, and how I, as a sufferer, have lived with it, coped with it, and come to terms with it. I hope that the following pages, which are direct quotes from my diary, shed some light on an illness that many people find hard to understand.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
First diary note January, 2003.
 

I see myself like a sleeping volcano, snoring restlessly, impatient to awaken and erupt. I’m full of hot bubbling lava, volatile, irritable, and on the verge, at the slightest disturbance to explode. To lash out and spew forth onto my beautiful lush rainforests. The rainforest trees which I have grown out of my soil and raised from see to tree. From the valley, they still look up to me, loving me unconditionally and with too much awe. If I explode, I will burn all the beautiful growth around me, and I wonder…will the regrowth be as pure and innocent as before? Or will it be forever scarred?

 

I must have been extremely manic between this entry and the next because I have ten pages cut out of my diary, with a note on the next page saying…”I cut out all manic writings because I cringe with embarrassment and shame at the overt sexual content”.

 

Diary note : June 2003

Today I’m overwhelmed with guilt, remorse and fear. My husband has found an email which I sent to my bipolar support group on the net. The email contained very private words which I would never want him or  my family to know, as they could never understand my actions. The words were only meant to be read by fellow bipolar sufferers, or  my own phychiatrist, as only they, would understand my situation and not judge me. I typed it when I was manic and under the influence of alcohol, and described some risky behaviour and drug use, and after reading it, Rick (understandably) hit the roof. He said that I had been playing him a fool, and he could no longer  trust me. I hated myself for hurting him, and hoped that the damage I had caused was repairable.

 
 


 
 
 
 

June, 2003. You can see in this diary note that my judgement is impaired.

 

Morals, who decides on the rules? Society? Your  parents, or  yourself? Who’s standards  are most important to you? Who decides what is right, and what is wrong? And do the rules apply equally to all of us? Or are there exceptions to the rules?

If my needs are not being met at home, is it a sin to seek fulfilment elsewhere? Society would say “yes” – but what if the sinner’s brain was not functioning properly because of a  mental illness,  and their judgement was impaired?Is that person a sinner or a sick person?Who decides? If the sick person could control the illicit urges with the right medication, is there always the risk of repeat offence if the medication is not taken or is combined with alcohol? Yes, if all the wrong elements are in place, there is always a risk of errant behaviour. (there is no cure for bipolar, only attempts to control) Therefore, should the sick person then be forever condemned as a “bad person”? or  be forgiven ? Avoiding the triggers seems the easiest solution, but outside stimuli will always present itself in life. But what about the sinner’s shame and the family’s pain, and all the lost friends along the way?Life is not fair – fuck the morals, …..love thy neighbour…..life is too short to wallow worrying about what everyone thinks of you.

 
 


 
 

It is hard to describe how it feels to come down from mania. Mania feels so good, because your senses are hightened, so food tastes better, everything smells better, sex is better, you feel so happy you want to hug everybody, you take pleasure in everything around you, your confidence is high, your energy is high, your creativity is high, so in a word you feel high. So when my doctor prescribed medication to bring me down to a “normal” level, I felt flat, and dull and boring, and lethargic and I craved the almighty high just as a drug addict craves his fix. This is a song I wrote about not wanting to be brought down:

 
 
DON’T BRING ME DOWN
 
V1. I’m high as an eagle

My thoughts fast as light

My tongue struggles as

Subjects change left to right

My grandiose plans

Will change the nation

No sleep ‘til completion

Such euphoria and elation

 
CH: Don’t bring me down

I don’t need to be controlled

Get those meds away from me

They make me feel old

I go slow and lethargic

And can’t remember a thing

Bringing me down

Is like forcing birds not to sing

Don’t bring me down

Please don’t bring me down

 
V2. I’m horny as a rabbit

Every man edible

I drive like a loony

Feeling incredible

Invincible in fact

Full of daring deeds

No thought of consequences

I do as I please.

 
CH: Don’t bring me down

I don’t need to be controlled

Get those meds away from me

They make me feel old

I go slow and lethargic

And can’t remember a thing

Bringing me down

Is like forcing birds not to sing

Don’t bring me down

Please don’t bring me down

 
V3. I feel like a druggo

I crave the mighty high

“normal” feels bland

flat and uninspired

I miss feeling superhuman

I miss the energy

Now that I’m medicated

I’ve lost the real me.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Diary note March 2004.

 
 
 

Sick of feeling constantly lethargic and unenthusiastic about everything.I have lost all zest for life, stopped all hobbies, lost all friends, and feel like I could just lie in bed all day. This is existing… not living. I’m taking control back into my own hands – 8th March I stopped all medication.

 
 
I wrote this song about how I felt at this stage:
 
EXISTING
 
V1 Existing – not living
Just getting through each day
Existing – not living
I wish there was another way
Existing – not living
I’ve hurt so much, I’m numb
Existing – not living
I’ve lost my sense of fun
 
CH: Life’s so complicated
Too many twists in the road
And like a time bomb ticking
It eventually explodes
 
V2. Existing – not living

Too much stress – I need drugs

Existing – not living
How can I love u thug?
Existing – not living
My needs were simple for life
Existing – not living

Was not prepared for all this strife

 
CH: Life’s so complicated
Too many twists in the road
And like a time bomb ticking
It eventually explodes
 
V3. Existing – not living
I’ve lost my will to move
Existing – not living
Even music fails to soothe
Existing – not living
Sick of faking all is right
Existing - not living
Each day’s a cold, dark night
 
 

I was filling out a mood chart at this stage so I will list my change of moods after I ceased taking meds. A number 1 is the lowest depression, a 5 is normal and a 10 is highest phychotic mania.

 
 

8.3.04stopped medication - mood 4 so far so good

 

9.3.04very tearful- mood 3 headaches from stopping meds suddenly instead of weaning off

 

10.3.04 fog starting to lift- mood 4 dropped to 2 cried for no reason all afternoon

 

11.3.04 back on antidepressants but staying off  mood suppressants - mood 5

 

12.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 5good day

 
13.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 5good day (headache)
 

14.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 5clear head, I love it ! I feel “normal”

15.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 6(a.m.) it’s like I’ve been living under storm clouds, and fog and it has finally cleared. The sky is so blue, the birds are singing , the air is fresh, and I feel like a new beginning. (headache p.m.)

 

16.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 6 great, very affectionate (headache ….what is it with these bloody headaches?) enough energy to actually catch up on house work – WOW !

 

17.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 5 good, but ongoing headache is bothering me. p.m. getting anxious and jumpy for no apparent reason

 

18.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 6 great , getting creative again, and wanting to re-decorate the house

 

19.3. 04 50mg Zoloft- mood 6 good

 

20.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 6 good but getting aggressive

 

21.3.04 50mg Zoloft- mood 6 irritable and aggressive

 

25.3. 04 50mg Zoloft- mood 7 very horny and having trouble sleeping

 

26.3.04 stopped taking meds because I recognised that I was getting high again. I feel the urge to kiss and cuddle everyone.

 
 
 

Can you see the way it works? I stopped the medication because it made me feel too drowsy and dull, suddenly my mood swung low and I panicked, fearing going into depression again, so I went back on the antidepressants. Unfortunately, it is now understood that antidepressants are for people suffering depression only, and not bipolar disorder, because they don’t just lift bipolars to “normal” level, but higher and higher, possibly into full blown mania. Again, I self medicated and stopped the Zoloft suddenly and my mood suddenly swung down again.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Some people swear by cognitive therapy to assist with dealing with bipolar disorder. The theory as I understand it, is that an event, leads to a thought, which leads to a feeling, which then causes a behaviour. Apparently, if you nip the cycle in the bud, and change your thoughts to a positive affirmation, (the opposite of the negative which you would have thought), then your feelings will follow suit and change your behaviour .

 
 

I did a mood test on the computer called “Mood Gym”, which is cognitive therapy, and the results came back as middle to high range depression and high to very high anxiety range. I identified these four warped thoughts 1. If only I could be a better person2. I’m a fraud 3. I’m a failure 4. nobody likes me.

 
 

I identified this event that made me upset: I was talking to a friend, and she reminded me of the bubbly, energetic, positive person I used to be. This event made me angry: I allowed a man to take advantage of my sexually when I didn’t want it to happen. My goal after completing the test was:  I want to like myself again, I need to forgive myself for past indiscretions, I want to think positively, so that I can be a better mother and wife and have more joy in life.

 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 

Diary note April, 2004

 
 
 

I’m so sad and lonely and nobody likes me anymore. Nobody phones me up, nobody visits and I’m so convinced that I’m just not likeable, that I don’t have the confidence to go out and make new friends for fear of rejection. The people I work with socialise together, but they don’t include me. My old friends are long gone and I don’t have their current phone numbers. My recent friends, dumped me because they disapproved of my actions whilst I was manic. The trouble is I am a drain on people who get close to me, because I get needy and self centered when depressed, and I get sexually aggressive and outrageous when manic, which is embarrassing. In between major mood swings, I often suffer guilt and self loathing when reflecting on my wild behaviour. I’m not a bad person, I just act on my urges spontaneously, without considering consequences. Honestly, if I didn’t have the support of my husband and love of my three children, I would not care to go on living. Life is a waste without good friends to share it with, and at the moment, my life is empty and hollow and I’m only hanging in their  for my family’s sake. Misery is a crippling disease.

 
 


 Here is a song I wrote about not fitting in.

 
MISFIT 
 
Put a square peg in a round hole
And all you’ll ever get is MISFIT

Try to shape her thinking to fit the mould

What’s logical for her is MISFIT
 

She desperately wants to join the group

They won’t invite a MISFIT

Instead they backstab and form a coup

And break her foolish heart MISFIT
 
 

WHY, WHY, WHY must people be so cruel?

WHO, WHO, WHO made up these stupid rules?

WHY, WHY, WHY are we so quick to judge?

WHEN, WHEN, will we open our hearts and love?

 

She wore a sexy dress, split up to the thighs

It got them talking about - MISFIT

They called her names until she cried

They won’t accept a – MISFIT
 
 

How dare they judge another human being

Is she beneath them – MISFIT

The laugh at her, but they’re never seeing

The special person – MISFIT
 

WHY, WHY, WHY must people be so cruel?

WHO, WHO, WHO made up these stupid rules?

WHY, WHY, WHY are we so quick to judge?

WHEN, WHEN, will we open our hearts and love?

 
 
June 2004.
 

I feel like I am trapped down a deep dark well, it is cold and dark and silent and achingly lonely. I can see the light above, and hear the children playing, but no matter how hard I scream, nobody notices that I’m there. Are they ignoring me?  or am I just so worthless, that I have become invisible?

 
 

June 2004 (“When you are manic – you make friends, when you are depressed, you find out who your true friends are”)

 

My husband went over my old friend’s house to see if there was any chance that we could resume our friendship. He was very concerned about my depression, and knew that I mourned the loss of my dear friend very deeply. She made it clear to him that she no longer respected me because I lied to her about my affair with my boss. She then went on to inform him that she had broken into my bosses computer, and gotten hold of emails between him and I and photos and messenger conversations. Needless to say, it was damning evidence that brought to light details that I had left out on purpose to try to keep our marriage together. I couldn’t believe that she could dislike me so much that she could actually copy those horrid details and put them on a disc  and hand them to my husband.

 

That Thursday night, whilst I was at work. Unbeknown to me, my husband was reading everything on the disc. He confronted me when I got home and I felt such shame, guilt, disgust, embarrassment and self loathing, and my head just spun with dread as to what would happen next. We argued, and I cried a lot and begged for understanding, that I was in a manic state at the time, and therefore not thinking straight.In the morning, I asked him to destroy the disc, but he wanted to keep it as security. He said that if I ever left him and wanted to take the kids, he would use the disc against me as proof of what a selfish bitch I was, and an unfit mother. I became hysterical, sobbing loudly and hyperventilating, and he couldn’t handle it. He kept telling me to “snap out of it” but that was about as simple as telling a person having an asthma attack to stop wheezing. 

 

My husband doesn’t know how to show his feelings, so all emotions turn into anger, and in this instance there was plenty of fuel to get him going. He attacked me physically and I didn’t attempt to fight back as I felt that I deserved it. I had hurt him, and now he was hurting me.

I quit my job for obvious reasons and I had a strong urge to express deepest feelings in writing. I starting writing song lyrics, as I had been singing for over 20 years, so that format came naturally to me. As I was a singer, not a musician, I struggled with coming up with melodies to compliment my lyrics. I advertised on the internet for composers or musicians who might be interested in collaborating with me, and I was surprised at the wonderful diversity of music that was presented to me. I have collaborated with musos from Hong Kong, U.S., Italy, Switzerland, Canada, U.K., Russia, Maldova, Torino, Trinidad, Poland, Mexico and Australia. I have written over 80 lyrics and have recorded 34 songs in only two years. I currently have writers block with song lyrics (probably run out of topics) so that is why I am writing this book. I need an artistic hobby to keep me distracted and out of trouble. This following set of lyrics is the first song I wrote, and unfortunately, haven’t found the right piece of music to suit it yet, but will keep searching.

 
 

LOOSE ENDS

 
 
The phone it rings no more, no more, no knocks upon my door,

For those once loved, have forsaken me, on their skin I was a sore.

I lifted them to heights that soared, I thought I was so grand.

But when I dropped into the pits, no one could understand.
 

Guilt, Fear, Sadness, self loathing live with me when I’m down, then creative sexual deviousness energetically abound.

 
It’s hard to hold on to a man, my mania breaks their hearts.

I’ve lost good friends when I’ve been ill, my soul it bears the scars.

 
I’m shaking on the inside now, for no reasonable cause,

Heart pounding out a frantic beat, yet all around there’s no pause.

 

Guilt, Fear, Sadness, self loathing live with me when I’m down, then creative sexual deviousness energetically abound.

 
I lie awake in bed at night, a radio in my mind.
I jump at every single noise, some sleeping pills I find.

They feel so good, I take some more, no longer staying awake.

I slip away and feel sublime, I’ts so good to escape.
 
(repeat chorus)
What is my purpose? Am I a waste of space?
 
Then I see my children – no other mother could replace!
 

I am lucky with my bipolar disorder that I have never self harmed. I am a member of a very supportive internet group called fyreniyce, which is only for people who have bipolar. I have read horror stories of people cutting themselves, and overdosing on pills, and various other forms of self punishment. I have read stories of people being admitted to phychiatric wards and having to go through electric shock treatment. So far, I touch wood that I have (most of the time) taken my pills like a good girl, and they have kept me from the extremes that some poor folk have suffered. I also think I’m lucky, because I have the type of bipolar that is more manic than depressive, so to me it feels good a lot of the time. However, it is not good for my husband, because he constantly worries that I will have affairs or go on spending sprees, or paint the house bright colours whilst he is at work.

 
 

Diary not 27th June, 2004

 

I’ve never felt this low before, and I’m scared. The kids are on holidays, I’m not coping. I should be having fun with them, and yet all I want to do is crawl into bed and hide under the covers. I went to my G.P to seek help for my depression and sleeping difficulties, and he was a total arsehole. (excuse the language) I had just told him that my husband had punched me in the face and tried to strangle me when he found out about my affair with my boss, and this doctors reaction was, “you’re lucky he didn’t hurt you more considering what you did to him”. How unprofessional and uncompassionate and totally biased is that? He refused to prescribe sleeping pills because he said that I would get addicted to them, and yet I knew that my mood was getting worse each day that went by that I didn’t get enough sleep. The incident with that doctor, made me hesitate to seek further medical help for fear of rejection or personal judgement, but I’m so glad that my mother talked me into seeking out a female doctor.

Luckily this wonderful woman, understood bipolar better than the last jerk, and she prescribed sleeping pills and antidepressants. This is a song that I wrote about this time in my life.

I’M SCARED
 
V1. I’ve never felt this low before
I’m scared, so scared.

I should be playing with my kids,

Instead I’m home in bed.
(wait 8 beats)
V2. I’ve never felt this low before
I’m scared, so scared

I want to hide away from the world

There are demons in my head
 
CH: Don’t talk to me (go away)
Don’t touch me (go aw-aaaaay)

Don’t want to hear what you say

Don’t try to make me come out and play

Pleeeeeaassse….just walk away.

 
V3. I’ve never felt this low before
I’m scared, so scared.
Don’t bother knocking on my door
I’ll pretend I’m not there
V4. You can’t force my anyway
My tears refuse to stop
Yelling at me will not help
I’ve already given up.
 
Instrumental:
 

CH: Don’t talk to me (go away)

Don’t touch me (go aw-aaaaay)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Diary note 28th June, 2004

 

Mum is here to help and I can’t thank her enough. My mother would never hesitate to drop everything and jump on a bus from New South Wales to Queensland to help me out if I was in need, and  I  will be forever in her debt for her ongoing commitment to me.

 

 My moods are all over the place, and my memory has black holes in it. I feel disoriented, like my body is on earth, but my mind is flying in circles in the air above me. I keep having sudden bursts of rage, and I’m scared that I might hurt one of the kids. I’m having thoughts that Mum and my husband are conspiring behind my back to put me into a mental institution and this delusion is pounding my brain. I’m confused and terrified.

 
 
 
 
 
 

Diary note 24th July, 2004

 

Can’t stand the on going anxiety and have started to self medicate. I need something that will relax me and stop my headaches.

I went to the chemist and bought some Dolased (Mersyndol) which is a pain killer with codeine and a muscle relaxant in it. It worked a treat, I lay down and just felt the heavy wave of tiredness engulf me. The next day, the anxiety started again after lunch, so I took another 2 Dolased and the tension eased, but at bed time I still couldn’t get to sleep despite taking one and a half sleeping pills ( my dose is usually only a half a tablet). I was extremely noise sensitive and uptight, so I took another two Dolased and hoped taking them when I needed them would get me though until my next doctor’s visit on 6th August.

 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 

Getting hyper again. Feeling great and energetic, but also getting urges to create and collect things, and spend lots of money. Scatterbrained and starting lots of projects, but unfocussed and unable to finish anything. Getting frustrated, talking fast, shakey hands, dry mouth, indigestion and very very snappy.

 
 
 

Diary note 6th August, 2004

 

The next diary entry refers to the side effects of certain medications. This is a continuous problem for myself and all other sufferers of mental illnesses. Sometimes I wonder which is worse, the illness or the cure.

 
 
 
 
 

Diary note 27th August 2004

 

The Zyprexa and Risperdal were controlling the anxiety and sleeping problems very well, in fact my moods have been very stable since starting on them on the 6th August. The problem is, that they stimulate my appetite for junk food, in particular chocolate and peanut butter. I have gained a lot of weight ( two dress sizes 10 – 14) and I am not comfortable with the way I look. My stomach looks like I’m 4 – 6 months pregnant, and I am sure they are talking about me at work. So today I have decided to stop the antiphychotics, continue the anti-depressants, and slowly lower the mood stabiliser. I will monitor my moods closely and try to eat only low fat foods and see if I can reverse the bulging.

 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 

My moods continued to swing up and down and every which way, and I won’t bore you with the countless diary entries that say similar things. I had to hold down my job and my marriage despite all the internal turmoil, so I became a master of disguise. I could hide my feelings easily, and lie convincingly to cover up my out of control emotions or misdeeds. There were times when I was so noise sensitive at work that I felt like a time bomb about to explode, and yet I managed to serve customers with a sweet smile on my face and continue working until my rostered finishing time. I could go out after work and drink copious amounts of rum and coke and flirt like a devil and yet come home and act the innocent wife. When I was manic and drinking, I had no inhibitions, and I would make out with young girls from work on the dance floor to the entertainment of other guys. I can see now that my actions were highly inappropriate, but at the time, it just felt good so I went with the flow.I didn’t want to worry my parents, so when they asked me how I was, I would say “fine”, and they would say “you’re looking well”, and I would just think to myself, “oh you have no idea”. It is a strange feeling to have one person inside who is over emotional, and overtly sexual, and often anxious, and yet I portray myself on the outside as calm and in control. In fact, a work college said to me recently, I admire you because you are always so quiet and classy.My jaw nearly hit the floor in shock, as I would never describe myself that way, and had no idea that anybody would perceive me that way either.

 

The next diary entry is quite shocking, so I need to point out that between the ups and downs and various diary entries, there were periods of normality. I’m not a total nutcase who is always out of control. The only thing that I can’t control at any time is my strong empathy. I cry very easily, at the drop of a hat actually. In fact, I can’t see a person cry without crying along with them….it’s soooooo embarrassing!

 

Diary note 23rd January 2005 (“I don’t suffer from insanity, I enjoy it!”)

 

For  two weeks, I felt so horny that I would have done anything for sex, and wanted kinky and dangerous stuff too. The thoughts constantly in my mind were immoral, risky, and damaging, and yet I would have risked everything to fulfil those illicit urges.

 
 
 


 
 
 
 

I think that as well as the bipolar disorder, I have had hang ups since I was a teenager about my sexuality, and I’m sorry Dad, but you made things worse by not talking to me as a teen and believing me when I told you the truth.

 

I remember clearly a time when I was about 15, when some joke phone calls were made to our house and the person on the other end hung up as soon as I answered the phone. My father accused me of attracting unwanted attention by dressing like a tart. I was really offended by that comment, as I had no idea who had called or why, and felt that I didn’t deserve any blame, or certainly not rude name calling.

 Then the second incident, not long after, was when somebody put a secret admirer note on the outside of my bedroom window. I suspected it was the boy from next door who was my age, but didn’t know for sure.

 My Dad responded by putting jail like bars on my bedroom windows. I’m sure he did it for my own protection, but the way I saw it was that he d


© Copyright 2017 Juliette Jazz. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Unknown

More Non-Fiction Short Stories

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Juliette Jazz

Bipolar Diaries

Short Story / Non-Fiction

Popular Tags