Really Disappointed in myself (LJ)

YEsterday was a day off and I am really really glad.

Being bi-polar is one of those challenges I wouldn't want my worst enemy to go through, let alone any friends. The worst part is, you don't ever really know yourself.

It's hard to predict when in the middle of a normal week, day, or moment, the disease will reach out and grip your sane moments and rip them away.

It's even harder to "wake up" after one of those times and wonder what sort of damamge control you need to do to make things right or normal again.

Even under medication that gives me a "normal" life most of the time, there are depressing, mind unraveling moments that shake my belief in myself.

For some reason, yesterday was one of those days that began normally and ended with me sobbing hysterically and bleeding.

To sum up. The night before I stayed up reading and realised at 5:30am on Saturday that I had better get to bed. So I took my night meds and fell asleep. I woke up around 9:30 and later took a short nap i nthe afternoon.

It was a very quiet day, my mom really needed a un-distubed work environment so I chose to polish of one book and begin on another.

I could feel the melancholy settling in on me around 6:30 and it MIGHT have had to do with the book but I HIGHLY doubt it. I think I was headed for an episode and was looking for something to pin it on.

Anyhow, I could feel myself literally plummeting mood wise. It's scary to look back and see just how fast the mood swing happened. As it did I began to criticize myself deeply for things that in many ways I have had no control over.

I went down the list of perceived "failures" I am not married, had some relationships I was abused in, work at a job I SHOULD love but don't because I have been passed over for a position I adore, my sister lives in LA (which is over 400 miles away) and I am desperately lonely. I mean DESPERATELY.

My sister and best friend were both on AIM trying to cheer me up and I was kinda doing better even though I had cried repeatedly and was ( I am NOT kidding) compared myself to book character wondering when I would get a handsome, rich fiancee who adored me and would adore me until the world ended.

Sad yes?

Gets worse.

It was around 10:30 when my dad randomly stopped by my room and unleashed a week's worth of his own frustrations ON ME without provocation.

I lost it.

First, I slammed and locked my door. Secondly, I fell into hysterics. Hysterics for me is like an ouroborus of tears and recriminations against myself. Every time I reach the tail end I start over.

Then, in the despair I felt the urge to SI.

A side note on that, unlike emo teens with bad haircuts and lemming like attitudes who feel that self injury is epic and cool and do it for attention, SI for me is very serious and an indication I have reached the end of my sanity for the day. I haven't done it in quite some time.

Much like smoking relaxes some people, SI can make me calm down and feel better. Of course afterwards I feel terrible and do as much as possible to hide it. I don't take pictures and post them on MySpace, I don't brag, and I DO wear long sleeves or try to hide where ever I hurt myself. last time it was my face and I used my nails. It looked awful and I had to lie a lot about the scratches.

Anyhow, I struggled through the urge for 15 minutes. I was sobbing and twisting my fingers together until I thought I might break them just to keep my hands busy. I barely managed to type an SOS to my best friend who then called the house and alerted my mom. By the time mom had knocked on my door I had already used my favorite butterfly ring to make deep, angry, bleeding scratches on my left arm. But I stopped and was back to crushing my own fingers when my mother knocked on my door.

She managed to coax me from my room and took another 20 mintes of me sobbing hysterically to get me calm. She also took care of my wounds.

Luckily she has gotten past the judging stage of this and is very patient with me so I did calm down faster than I would have on my own.

In the end, I feel much better today but very, deeply, extremely, disappointed that I gave in to my urges. My lungs actually still ACHE from the sobbing and I have to look an red marks on my arm for the next couple of weeks.

I wish I never had bi-polar, I wish I never had to cry, I wish I didn't ever feel depressed or unhappy or confused and I REALLY wish I was strong enough to I don't know, tape my fingers together when I feel the urge to hurt myself?

Messaging my best friend for help was a first and I'm sure it cut down on the damage but I still feel very weak and stupid for giving in at all.