(This is not a cry for help. I will be fine, I am okay, and I hope to understand that I am not the only here. Please understand, this is a battle I am not fighting on my own. If any along the way might be hurt, I apologize as this is close to me. It's okay to have an open conversation on this as long as it is healthy and open to criticism. Name calling, or an insult at this point would be moot, so I encourage you to hold those out.)
Hello, good day to those who are reading, my name is Zero, you can call me Emmanuel interchangeably works both ways. I have been a member of this site for nearly eleven years now, so it's been a long time since I have been a member of this place. To those who don't want the so-called drama, there is the home page on your screen just hit and ignore this.
I am a manically depressed, bipolar, mood-swinging with anxiety problems lunatic and I have been with it for nearly two decades. To self-diagnose myself would be, I knew what it was like to have that deep sadness when I was nine years old. My bipolarity did not come into full swing around sixteen and my anxiety problems, well just like any test taker out there who knows how to handle taking tests and cramming the minute before it begins yeah, that's it.
I am a mess, completely. I have been broken so many times, just for being nice. I sometimes forget how to feel not out of indifference but out of fear in doing something about it. I have shut myself out from my family. I don't know how to approach them because I don't know what I would say when I am looking them in the face to letting them know that everything is not okay. I get scared. I still don't know where to start with them; if I did, it's not going to happen anytime soon. The impartiality of being able to speak it through the non-professionals or perhaps to you guys, especially to the closest people I have known here for years has been relieving. It's been easier to let go than keep it bottled up in here. If you ever want to know more about me, ask. Do not assume, ask. Talk to me, and I will tell you what ails my mind. I have my weight on my shoulders, but that does not mean I get to keep things hidden from you.
I have my suicidal thoughts, I do. I understand what it's like to look at the edge. I have lost friends from overdose and all other kinds of ways they exited themselves out. I have friends who have survived from cutting themselves or worse. They are okay, and we talk about it among other things in life. Being depressed has had me leaned on it over the years, but I keep bouncing back from it, titanically it is a massive feat to be a resilient person.
I don't love medications because I grew up taking them and I have that sudden urge or reluctance even to make it. I think it's the latter more than the former for in fear of growing up with it when I was being treated for my ability to walk. It was difficult for my pain from therapists to make sure I would walk, and I did, to run was also a feat so yeah. I don't want the psychiatric theatrics because of the counterarguments, the mind games, etc. Clashing with them is not going to work. I think it's comfortable talking here or if I were in a room with peers of the same caliber, it would fit just to sit down and let go.
Maniacally, I wish I was always usual but that's not in the cards. Bipolarity, even just being happy and sad in a balanced way I would find it more comforting than prolonged periods of time. Even with my anxiety, I wish I knew I could remain calm also if it's taking a test. It will at least get me on the right track, right? At times I will have my bluntness, I will sound off snarky, witty or jerky. If I do, please point it out. Outside, I am happy, but I am also saddest on the inside. I don't want to hide the truth of protecting myself. I know my frailty comes with a price. I have socially lost friends over it. It takes a particular direction to understand where I would go with it. It's a hard pill to swallow and a harder truth to accept, but I will continue to do my best.
