Biracial, Bipolar, Bisexual (Bi, Bi, Bi) - Updated from June 2021
I know it has been a while since I spilled my guts so here is one for you. It was started in June 2021, but I just updated it a bit. During COVID, in particular, I had a core group of friends that always looked out for my best interest, assisting me in all that I had to do, while also protecting me from myself.
You see, I have this nasty voice in my head that sometimes still says...
"You would be better off dead!"
As many of you know, I mainly stayed in my house throughout the last couple years. However, during COVID I was invited to stay with my friend for a month - he helped me to get some weight back on and not to kill myself. I was also able to escape to another friend's quiet home in Maryland for a bit - he also helped me to get around, sometimes by carrying me. It was nice to have a change of pace instead of just sitting in my house. So this was all around the start of COVID, so it was not until I received the COVID-19 vaccination that I felt like I could breathe a little easier.
At first, when my Oncologist asked if I would be receiving the COVID-19 vaccination (if it were offered), I said a resounding "HELL NO" I was super weary of it, particularly because I assumed it was developed quickly and done half ass. I now believe that I had it all wrong. After much thought, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to safely see my loved ones again. I would have been pissed if I died from something that I stayed in for like 2 years trying to avoid. Essentially, I had been an "inactive participant" in my life either way, and that was a huge loss. I was not "Living My Dash".
What happened to "living my dash"?
I believe that I thrive when I am amongst people. I thought about my family/framily and realized that I needed to be brave for them, so I had to get the vaccine. Again, it was my choice.
Please note: I DO NOT knock people for their personal decisions.
But then I thought about how I had not really seen most of my friends and family throughout the year and that my precious time was being wasted. If you know me, you should know how seriously I take my time on this earth.
But I was stuck. It hurt to walk, no appetite, no energy, etc.
So at the time that all of this was going on, I also struggled with my mental health. A double wammy! There were constant thoughts of killing myself because, at times, I felt like I had ZERO purpose . Honestly I still feel that way a great deal. I had left the podcast and was struggling to find what I had to live for since I felt that was what I believed I was meant to do. I looked at myself in the mirror and asked myself if
"I would be happy if I were to die today".
The answer was a resounding "NO", but I would be lying if I said that I am "better". Every day is a struggle.
I know that this can be boiled down to a lack of CONTROL in my life. Ultimately, it always does. Do I bring up having a terminal diagnosis to bring my loved ones back to reality...yes. I hope that they understand that 5+ years have passed and I am still here!
FACT:
The median life span for a patient living/thriving with
Stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer is
THREE YEARS
but I will have SIX YEARS on January 24, 2023!
Are my diagnoses (MBC and Bipolar 2 Depression) something that I am happy to discuss? Not really, but I know that it is up to me to be honest and lay it all out there to just maybe help someone else that is struggling. Be honest - when someone asks "How are you doing?", no one wants you verbally vomit all of your BS. Just say...."I'm well. And you?". I know that the crazy shit that goes through my mind. But I have to try to believe that I am alive for a reason, regardless of the guilt I feel for still being here. But why am I still here and so many are gone? Why were they so abruptly taken from this earth? All it takes is one upsetting experience and I jump right back to wanting to commit suicide (planning, in my head) because sometimes it seems that would be easier than dealing with this cancer, mental health issues, and personal struggles. I continue to beat myself to shit when I think about all that I am putting my loved ones through.
The guilt I feel is overwhelming.
That being said, I needed to truly restart "living my dash".
But it was not that simple. This epiphany came about after suicide attempts and an 11 day stay in "the bin", as I so lovingly call the Psych Ward. I was on morphine, muscle relaxers, nerve meds, and the pain from the Verzenio was still crippling. It is so hard to explain the pain that you are in when no one can see it. The nausea, the vomiting, the lack of an appetite. My weight has gone up from 125 to 160 and now I am 120lb again. I had been turning to taking extra Morphine and Clonazepam in the hope that I would not wake up. After about a week of waking up and being pissed at the world, I think I just came to the conclusion to take both bottles of pills and just...
DO IT.
Luckily my friend Laura was there and saved my life. It was clear that something was wrong. In my blind stupor, I threatened my sister with harm, using a bat, and all I kept saying, per my parents, was
As I am learning, all of this is part of Bipolar 2 Disorder.
"Mania and hypomania are two distinct types of episodes, but they have the same symptoms. Mania is more severe than hypomania and causes more noticeable problems at work, school and social activities, as well as relationship difficulties. Mania may also trigger a break from reality (psychosis) and require hospitalization.
Both a manic and a hypomanic episode include 3 or more of these symptoms:
Abnormally upbeat, jumpy or wired
Increased activity, energy or agitation
Exaggerated sense of well-being and self-confidence (euphoria)
Decreased need for sleep
Unusual talkativeness
Racing thoughts
Distractibility
Poor decision-making — for example, going on buying sprees, taking sexual risks or making foolish investments *
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