The Underside of Bipolar Rapid Cycling Moods
I mentioned on Facebook recently that I’m rapid cycling. If I ever wondered if the bipolar diagnosis was accurate, the bipolar cycling moods have certainly convinced me that it is. If you’re curious, this is ultradian cycling — i.e. cycling where moods last only hours. That can also be classified as a mixed mood because the cycles are so short.
All of this is to say that I’m not well right now. It’s fine. I’ve seen my psychiatrist, we have a plan and I’m working the plan. But the plan takes time, as all plans do.
So while the plan portends usefulness, I am stuck on the rollercoaster from hell. And in this particularly hellish place I wrote this piece. It is not cheery, it would trigger some and if you’re having a bad day these are not the 300 words for you. Proceed with caution
I know this looks like me asking for death. I know this looks like me begging for death. I know this looks like me wailing for death.
And that, of course, is because it is.
I know that when I say, “Please kill me,” I know that when I say, “I want to die,” I know that when I say, “I want this to end,” it looks like I want death to take me right now.
But there’s something else happening in all the asking, begging, wailing and saying: it’s me kicking and screaming against the thing that I know is trying to kill me.
I know that if I let go for a minute, an hour, a second, that thing that chases me, that thing that haunts me, that thing that beleaguers me will catch me and kill me for sure. I know the one minute that I stop asking and begging and screaming and saying is the moment I will take a blade and slit my wrists. I know this is true.
So while I sob and cry and beg and pray for it all to be over, while the pain overtakes me to the point where I know I cannot take it, while I know it looks like I have given up; while I know I would say I have given up; I still know that some tiny part of me, some part of me that I cannot see and cannot feel and cannot find and cannot kill is still, without my permission raging against the infinite night.
I wish it wouldn’t.
I’m thankful it does.
While I appreciate that some of you may be concerned at thoughts like these, please don’t be. I’m here. I’m fine. Your concerns are appreciated but not required.
Banner image by Itsu and Misak.
Image by salvation in the void.
About Natasha Tracy
Natasha Tracy is an award-winning writer, speaker and consultant from the Pacific Northwest. She has been living with bipolar disorder for 18 years and has written more than 1000 articles on the subject.