Rearrange
I live alone inside my own insane asylum brain. No one else wants to live here. I do not want to live here but I cannot get out. They will not let me out. I try to escape but there is no way out. The hell is too much. The walls are black and the hole is deep. I try to crawl out of the deep grave using my fingernails or anything I can find to claw my way out, but there is no escape from the hell and the darkness I live in and have died in.
On the way down into the lonely darkness I scream, but no one hears my screams from my pain and agony I feel. No one wants to hear, plugging their ears in hopes my screams and cries for help will just go away. No one wants to listen as it is not their life or what a normal life of any kind is like. So they choose not to listen or help me out of my prison of my dark and lonely grave that I live in. The pain is too great, the words are too painful and the screams and screeches are too awful to hear, so no one listens. They choose not to. They pretend the pain is not real and that I am not real and I will just go away somehow. It is too much for them to bear, so they all pretend I am not here on this earth as I am already dead in the dark grave they have dug for me and put me in covering me slowly day by day with dirt.
The insane asylum inside my brain is closed for anyone else to enter. No one else would want to enter my insane asylum brain as it is too scary for anyone to be able to comprehend how awful the pain and darkness must be. I am locked up in my own hell.
The black walls are actually my grave that has been slowly and meticulously dug shovel by shovel spoonful by spoonful one shovel and one spoonful at a time until the grave was too big for me to get out of and dirt then thrown on top of me again shovel by shovel spoonful by spoonful by my family and everyone around me inch by inch year after year. It is easier for them to pretend that I am dead choosing never to know I exist unless I am well and out of my own insane asylum brain. I feel like I am already dead as I am not alive.
People all around me, the millions that exist outside of the walls of my insane asylum brain that say they are friends or family have assisted in my own death by slowly throwing the dirt in the grave slowly covering me with black dirt and tar and rats and bats and anything that can cover me. Slowly I am covered.
I have tried to crawl out and claw and claw my way out time after time. I have made it sometimes only to die again and be thrown back into my insane asylum brain and grave again and again time after time inside the lonely dark black hole. The only thing left is my dirt covered tip of my fingernail still struggling to survive and hold on hoping that somehow life will come back to me and I can once again dig myself all the way out.
I cannot breathe because I am really dead. I feel like I have already died so I must be dead. The weight of the dirt and debris that has covered me weighs me down so that I cannot move. I am incapable of movement and life of any normal kind even though I try desperately to move I cannot.
I am left all alone and so lonely to live alone
inside my lonely dark insane asylum brain
all alone forever
far away and
gone.
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These are my open honest words exposing the visualizations and horrors of a severe Bipolar Disorder mind in the midst a very deep dark suicidal depression. This is my life shortly before I was hospitalized and was where I needed to be, so I could protect myself from my severe suicidal thoughts which were causing me to be very close to my demise. The hospital kept me safe and alive until I eventually came back to life.
My first hope and feeling that I was actually alive did not come back until I spoke and prayed with the Chaplain. She saved my life with the Holy Spirit speaking through her after she repeatedly said the prayer…. from Psalm 130:1-2
Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord hear my voice.
Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord hear my voice.
Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord hear my voice.
Jesus listened and answered my prayer. I felt the beautiful love and joy you can only get from Jesus and the Holy Spirit filling my heart and body during that prayer. Feeling life come back into my body again for a brief moment, reminded me of what the beautiful feeling of being alive felt like and I knew I had to live and I could live and love life again and eventually, I did.
My lonely insane asylum brain has been rearranged. I am no longer suicidal and I love life again. This is what Bipolar depression does when my severe thoughts of suicide yell at me inside of my brain and then become rearranged into positive thoughts of joy, peace and love of life. I am once again happy to be alive. The rearranging from the two mood poles of depression to happiness can happen randomly sometimes without any purposeful thought processing of my own. My brain does have a mind of its own.
Thank you dear Lord Jesus, my Lord and Savior. Once again You saved my life from the dark depths of the grave I once lived in.
My Loud Whispers of Hope 
This is a wonderful description of the ebbs and flows that are forever cycling within addiction and mental disorders. We seem to use similar analogies in our posts, which somehow makes me feel less alone knowing someone can describe in words my same hellish experience and only recently discovered I could write about as well. Ironically, the discovery of the healing I feel while writing was set in motion by my son this year, when he handed me a bag with my childhood journals that I had not visited in years. So after 20 years, it got me to writing in an online journal, a few of which I have transferred here, and I haven’t stopped since. Perhaps reading your posts will inspire me to act on the same notion to incorporate my wounded mind with my healing one to see how they compare (I have a treatment journal I have not yet read since being in recovery). Very intriguing blog you have created here. I look forward to reading more! 🙂
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Thank you. I honestly wrote most of that when I was right splat in the middle of one of my very dark suicidal depressions and was actually very surprised with my choice of words and imagery I had chosen at the time. It is amazing how our brains work and I am actually fascinated sometimes with my diseased Bipolar brain and how it works. It is fascinating to me how I can truly ride this extreme roller coaster of such extreme highs and lows and actually feel like I am dead and then can later see the light of life again. It is truly amazing if it wasn’t so horrifying at the same time. Writing does help and is very therapeutic. I honestly think sometimes my mind writes better when I am in the throes of mania or severe depression. I am more in touch with my inner thoughts and feelings and am more creative. Now though I am increasing my creativity again and getting my brain working again….. it has been fun and challenging at the same time. I am learning new things….. like on the computer and how to write again. BTW I have old journals too from like 20 years ago I want to pull out some day….. maybe scary to go back and read some things I forgot… interesting though. Anyway…. keep writing and I look forward to reading more of your work. May your life overflow with blessings today, always and forever.
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I feel every word of this
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I pray you aren’t feeling it this very second because this is severe pain. I am not there right now. Praise God for that. I hope when you say you feel this it means you have been there before. I would love to know if others have been there too….. helps so much to know we are not alone. Thank you for your comment buy I am sorry you too have experienced this type of deep dark pain of hell…. please let me know if you are there now of not… I will pray for you. Again thank you for your reply. I love to know I am not alone as that helps me….
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Not much these days. But my general outlook in life is less about hope. I do hope in GOD. but I don’t have any hopes for this life. My mom constantly reminds me to take my meds. But I ask myself, how long do I have to endure the loneliness. I keep beating myself over loosing my children
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Oh I am so sorry you are feeling this way. God saved my life as well. I had no quality of life due to the severe symptoms of my Bipolar. After I knew Jesus and the Holy Spirit and felt their love within me I knew what life was and began to serve the Lord. Life on earth is about serving the lord. It is a huge blessing that you have Jesus in your life and are living for him. I am so sorry about your children. I can’t imagine. Do you get to see them sometimes??? Can you call them etc???? Maybe this is silly but write then a letter everyday of how you feel about them and then you can give it to them and they will know how much you always loved them and save these for their entire lives. I feel you can pour your heart and love out on the paper knowing they will have your thoughts everyday… maybe it can be something you could look forward to doing daily. We always have a huge spiritual bond with our children and this way you are bonding spiritually with them everyday….. save the letters and give them the letters and they will be so happy and cherish your words of love forever. I am all alone as well but I am blessed to have my children…. my ex tried taking them away when they were younger and partially succeeded at first somewhat. Now they are adults and they see me as often as possible… they are busy….except my youngest who is 16 but she has a different dad so I am blessed and I have her everyday. I am sorry about your beautiful babies. You are still blessed. They will always be yours and that can never be taken from you. You are their Daddy. Huge hugs from across the message…
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I have very limited access to them . I write letters to their pastor and he delivers to them. My Dad used to make fun of anyone who said that they had depression. He had one answer. Turn your eyes over to GOD and your depression will vanish. Anyways, he has passed away…Thanks for your encouragement. It helps..
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Depression is an illness like any other illness and God does not heal all or everything…… we don’t cause depression and we cannot make it go away magically or spiritually. God did not heal me completely at all and did not take all of my Bipolar away.. He just helped me learn to cope and live with my symptoms better. So
rry your Dad said that. Peace and blessings!!!
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On a separate note.. I love to read about the emotions that others go through.. not because I enjoy knowing that they are in pain but because I feel they express my pain… its an outlet
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