I very rarely share my adversity, but here I am. “Be still and know I am God” is what is ringing through my being as I type this out. I can know that it’s perfectly ok to share my struggle. I’ve restrained myself for so long from sharing my feelings/burdens because I know the power of the effects words can have on our lives. I’ve learned in countless therapy sessions to share what is going on within me that causes me great pain and turmoil. Honestly, I was so backed in a corner on the ability to express myself that I couldn’t be completely honest. Not even close to honest. I have been feeling so alone and so misunderstood for the past five years I’ve been in treatment. You’ve heard that right. Treatment. Substance Abuse Rehabilitation. I started going to rehab when I was 20. I’m now 25. The first time I went to rehab, they put me on a medicine 100mg over the max dose that was an antidepressant. I’m bipolar. Putting me on ANY antidepressant is a terrible idea, and incredibly insane from a doctors stand point. By the fourth week of being on that medicine, I was so psychotic I was sent to a hospital before I went to a psychward. During the first three months I was in a mixed Bipolar I state. This meant that I was having thoughts of a heaven perspective one minute and having thoughts of a hell perspective the next. This was for 3 months. The following next four years was me staying in rehabs trying to diffuse the psychotic beliefs and recover from drug addiction. Four years I was in a delusion state of mind that was worse than any sort of reality normal folks live in. Getting sober, not even possible. Every time I graduated a rehab, I quickly used within a week. Thus starting the trip from sober living back to rehab again. A miserable cycle of unsuccessful attempts and the pain of being ostracized for my thoughts and input to the groups I was participating in. Therapists referring to me as psychotic when overlooking their treatment plan when I was signing. Basically nobody having any faith in me. Family fed into the whole image of me being nothing more than the image of Bipolar I and medicine. To this day, I basically can only talk to my Dad about my meds and the feelings of trauma tear me apart from all the delusional thoughts I had those four years. To this day, I feel looked at as delusional, unaccepted, unloved, forsaken, left out in the cold, separated from others, and judged. Not to mention the amount of pain I give myself from my perfectionism, harsh inner critic, judgment of myself, feeling like a failure, feelings of insecurity, unacceptable behavior I have failed to change and berating myself for every small thing I think I do wrong. It’s no wonder why I don’t recover. These are all things I feel from when I wake up to when I lie down. I feel all this way and unable to share my true self.
I know my worth, I’ve been given special gifts, and I know God loves me. This doesn’t get to be experienced because I shut down around people from the weight of all this. I just want to do what I love and people to accept me for who I am. Like for real, because of my struggle of what I’ve had to over come I’ve developed a lot of spiritual power. I have influence of a huge amount of area on earth using spiritual means. I will leave photos of the latest project I’ve been advised to work on that will prove this statement and hopefully add credit to my voice when I am speaking of spiritual matters. These are the things I’m passionate about. Ascending the throne of David. This is the side of me I want and wish people to see. This is just the tip of the iceberg as to what I have accomplished in practical divine practices that can change the world.
As far as the rehab situation goes. My back is against the wall, vacuumed sealed. There is no way for me to get out of this cycle. Family won’t take me home. I can’t over come using meth because the focus meth gives me to work on researching spiritual matters overtakes my desire to stay sober quite frequently. Every time I use in this rehab system, I just get set back to step one.
If I’m being honest, I NEED to be put on ADHD stimulant medication. I’ve voiced this concern to most treatment centers I’ve been at. It’s tremendously disappointing that no one hears that cry. Why would I abuse if I’m on a dose that would work all day? The extreme abuse of the drugs I used to abuse has long died out, now it’s self medicating when I use. Nobody believes. No where to go. No one to talk to. No one who believes. Sad state am I in.
This is a message after the fact. I wrote the above piece about an hour ago. Regardless, I’m still drowning in feelings of sorrow. All I know to do is pray when I’m in moments like these. I figured that the least I could do is try to express where I am in written form while I have the power to so hopefully maybe someone relates or can reach out to me because I’m really going through it.
I mean, I have such a hope stored up for me that shows itself whenever I follow my passions, pursuing that which brings me great joy. These things are research of different topics for growth in myself and the community, listening to music, making music, writing, socializing in some cases and ultimately just bringing into this world causes of joy for those who I know. I’ve been through too much. I continue to fight, even when my head is well below water. I continue to love, even when I have no reason to. I continue to trust God even when I only see His Promises in the form of Words only not much materialization, but we live by faith. Hoping in the things unseen rather than the things that are seen, for the unseen are eternal but the seen are temporary. I just sit hear listening to music that comforts me because not much more can any more. It truly has now become me and God, with others loving on the sideline but never really reaching out their hand to help from the heart. I’m sure if they did, they would then see I’m just a overwhelmingly crushed person who just resiliently trudges on in a humble state of defeat. There are brief instances of astounding moments of hope but those are gradually becoming less and less, and more of the feelings of defeat becoming a enveloping substance around my whole being while I just faithfully wait for things to get better when they very possibly won’t. At this point, I just take the feelings as they come and I release them as they go. While I do this, I fear how I am slowly losing the memories I once had, and only living in a chamber of a life that I no longer want to live in. One day, my new life will completely replace the old life I once had. Will I have overwhelming grief on that day? Once I fully realize that all my attachments to what I once knew faded in the waves of time? Will it be bitter sweet? Or will it be as heartbreaking as it feels now? It’s upsetting. I truly is. There are people I love from my past who I am slowly losing my attachment to, and this is a part of life. How it feels is something I have felt before. I wish all the best to my family, I wish all the best to my friends back home, I wish all the best to all who have been traveling on this journey with me. Sadly, everyone one of you are losing your place in my heart. To my family, I know it’s hard. It’s hard for me too. I will always love you all, but these changes and feelings I’m going through are causing a disconnect from all that I have loved in the past. The pain was to much, I just can no longer hold on to it any more. I have to let it go to heal.
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