Numb Holidays.

I feel weird this holiday season.  Usually, the holidays are very hard for me.  Not to say they aren't this year, but honestly I'm feeling more numb than anything else.  I think I'm in a hypomanic state, which rarely happens.  I'm usually either totally manic or totally depressed, or when I'm stable, right smack dab in the middle.  Maybe my meds are working overtime and giving me the numb feeling, but there is a slight giddiness to it.

I've been watching a lot of Christmas movies on Hulu, which I don't normally do.  I haven't for several years.  But for some reason this year I've decided to do it.  Maybe that has helped get me a little into the spirit.  I have to admit that I miss my own tree and decorations that are so snugly put in storage this year while I'm staying with my grandmother, but we have a little tiny tree and a nativity set, so I should be happy with just that.  Gifts aren't really as important, although it's always nice to see a few packages under the tree.  Not necessarily for me, but I enjoy getting other people stuff and seeing their faces light up when they open their presents.

My kids are stable and leading their own lives at this point, as they are all finally grown, so I don't have that usual mommy guilt and usual strong desire to do something overwhelming for them like I normally do each and every holiday season.  I became a grandma on October 2nd, so seeing my oldest son with his own little family has helped quite a bit.  The only thing that makes me sad about that is I have yet to hold my grandson because I live so far away right now.  The good thing is he will be moving back to Florida a little ahead of the time that I will be moving back to Florida, so I know I have a set time to look forward to so I can hold my precious little grandbaby.  My oldest daughter is living her life in Colorado and she seems to be happy, although I miss her dearly.  I was getting used to having her come over practically every weekend to spend time with me, even if she is an adult.  It feels good when your adult children want to spend time with you!  My youngest daughter is back from college in Hungary and living in Florida again, so I'm looking forward to spending a little time with her, as well.  My youngest son is still in Florida and is engaged to be married.  I don't know when, be he said "sometime in 2020" so that narrows it down.  lol. 

I have family here in Texas, so I feel like I should be happier and more content than I actually am.  It's still hard, though.  I guess that feeling will never totally go away.

I hope everyone is having a good holiday season, and if you struggling like me, don't worry.  You aren't alone and I promise things do get better eventually.  <3

My new grandson with my son and daughter-in-law:

Self Harm.

As you all know, I run a page called Ramblings of a Bipolar Sober Chick, hence the name of my blog.  It deals with a lot.  Not just strictly the label of bipolar disorder or addiction, but the many underlying facets of those two things.  There is so much that can go into a list under the heading of bipolar disorder alone, so we'll just say "mental illness" for the sake of argument.  I struggle with depression, mania, PTSD, OCD, anxiety and self harm.  Not everyone will have all of those things, but many do.  Depression and mania obviously lie directly under bipolar disorder.

Hi, I'm Barbara, if we haven't "met" yet.

If the subject of self harm is hypersensitive for you, you may want to stop reading here.

I think the first time I ever harmed myself, I was around 16 years old, but it wasn't a regular thing.  As a matter of fact, it didn't become a "thing" until well into my adulthood, right around the time I was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder.  That wasn't until I was about 30 years old.  It became serious when I was around 39.  I'm 45 years old now.  So you can take out of your head that it's just a "teenage thing" or a "cry for attention."  It's neither.

My self harm escalated and peaked as my bipolar disorder was severely uncontrolled and was at it's "peak" I guess you could say.  My primary form of self harm has always been cutting, although I've scratched myself raw before, as well.  I probably have well over 100 scars on my body, but many of them are faded.  Some you can't even see at all anymore.  I believe that when people think of cutting, they always look for it on your wrists.  That's not always the case.  Actually, those of us that self harm are not proud of what we have done, so we tend to hide it with long sleeves or long pants, long shirts even.  I've cut all up and down my arms, my thighs and my stomach.  In November of 2012, when I survived my suicide attempt by taking a bottle of Lithium, I also had about 20 cuts up the length of my arm.  One of the nurses in the emergency room was quite rude and made a big deal about it, saying she'd never seen anything like that and why would I do it?  As if I didn't already feel bad enough.

Why?  Why do we do it?  Believe it or not, we are not trying to kill ourselves when we self harm.  For me, and from what I've heard from many, it is a release of pain.  A reason for pain.  When we feel things so freaking intensely and it doesn't make any sense to hurt so badly, we make that cut to give us a visual for our pain... a "reason" for it.  It becomes an addiction, almost.  No, not almost.  It does.  It also isn't for attention.  It makes me so angry when people make that statement, because as I said before, we hide our wounds and our scars.  Why would we hide them if we are seeking attention from them?  We wouldn't.  

The reason I am even writing this is because recently someone reported a meme dealing with self harm on the Facebook page that I run and Facebook promptly removed it.  It was not overtly graphic nor did it encourage anyone to behave that way.  I gave a trigger warning, just as I did for this blog post.  I will repeat what I said in my post last night on the page, that if you are sensitive to certain things dealing with mental illness, my page may not be the place for you.  It is a safe place where I share things that I know others will relate to, no matter what the subject matter is.  Yes, that subject matter will always fall under the categories of mental illness and/or addiction/sobriety, but it isn't always happy.  It's simply relatable.  Sometimes it's downright sad.  Sometimes it's encouraging and meant to make you smile.

Thankfully, it's been quite a while since I have self harmed.  I'm pretty stable on my medications; all 4 of them.  It doesn't mean I don't have episodes where I think about it, though; and on the occasion in the future where I may slip up, I will move on and forgive myself for harming the encasement of my soul.

If you self harm, I encourage you to seek help.  I'm not telling you that you need to run out and see a psychiatrist or go to therapy, though if that is your choice, they are good ones.  I'm simply saying reach out to someone who you trust, who you know will listen to you without judging you, who will sit by your side and not say a word if you don't want to talk anymore, who will hold you if all you want to do is cry inside.  I do not condone self harm, but I'm not ashamed to tell my story anymore.  I hope more people begin to tell their stories so they can be a beacon of hope to the people that think they are all alone in theirs.

Peace out.