the stupid medicines

The stupid medicines are changing my life, it changes my mood and change my whole behavior . I know that It does not change me completely and its duty is to control the bad sickness . but I hate the effect of the sleeping bells, I hate that I sleep for very long hours like babies, I feel that I am losing my days , I also hate the controlled mood, I love being free and passionate about everything , but with the severe mood swings I start being depressed or manic , my aggressiveness is quite obvious . I was complaining to friends that the medicines are harming me by changing my mood and by adding extra kilos to my weight, the whole issue of body image is an extra burden on me, I hate being this fat, I can not be OK with all the extra kilos, every time I weigh myself I feel worse with every extra kilo and thanks to my laziness  and my massive appetite.

I know that I need medicines but I need to feel that it is me who control everything not a tiny bill .

Being in denial

I thought I reconciled with my fate as a bipolar , but this is not true, last month I hated being sick and  I stopped taking my medicines, I thought I will be free from the stupid daily routine and I will feel better. And this is a lie, stopping taking the medicine lead to a strong episode, this is the third week of the mixed episode, I have ups and downs in the same day, my body is betraying me and the chemistry is killing me .

I feel that I am punished for not obeying the system, the doctors and friends, I hate being on stake , every day I have to take my stupid bills or otherwise I will end up alone in a mental hospital , I know that I am losing my life slowly and others are gaining authority over my life, I need to regain my autonomy  and to stop people from invading my life.

I feel bad, this disease is attacking me harshly this time, the mania should stop after a month with taking medicines, this is the third week, if the mixed episode did not stop , I should be hospitalized and I hate that . I do not want to kept is mental facility with horrible persons spying on every move.

I want to stay safe, powerful and independent, I should reclaim my life and I do not want to destroy what I have been building in the past two years , I hate that my illness is showing itself in every statement I say. I want to be realistic and stop being dependent and childish , I need to find peace with the fact that I have chronic disease and I will never be cured . I do not want to live my life under jeopardy  and  I hope I will be free from this pain one day.

My battle should start by taking the various stupid bills , and I hope I will be victorious in the end .

days in hospital

I was hospitalized in 2008, I spent 3 weeks there, it was a very tough period, it was like a prison with medicines, after K.S convinced me that I need professional help, I went to the hospital with my best friends, I left my family worried and insecure at home, I was so sad , but still playing mental games with them, I told M.Z: you will leave here and she said yes , you will be fine .

When I was admitted in the hospital, this was my worst moment ever, they took my laptop, my needles and piece of clothes I was sewing and many other things, I know that even in my worst case, I never harmed myself , I do harm others verbally, I only  attacked my wicked aunt and I tried to kick her out of the house, anyhow in a nutshell I was stripped from everything and I hated this feeling .

I shared a room with an old women, who is residing in the hospital for years, she was pain in the ass, I had a huge fight with her, because she prevented me from brining my so called friends from the patients. Besides my bad room mate, I hated the hospital regime, waking up early, obligatory shower, breakfast, then reading the news in groups, I felt I have different disease and I need special care, I hated that they underestimated my capacities.

Something else I hated in the hospital, that every doctor or any physiologist can ask you how do you feel today and ask you about your suffering, I felt I am naked and everybody is watching  me closely.

 I felt OK with other women, I had fun with the drug addicts , although they really smart and using me to get my chocolates and fruits , but they were interesting , they were very proud about their sexual life, they were worried that the hospital employees will see their sex scenes on their confiscated mobiles, I never understood how they taped their sexual activity or why, I hated being this virgin when they talked. I loved their special treatment , I was envying them and they were exempted from the daily regime.

I loved the music class, where we sing what we feel, I loved singing and I felt empowered when others were listening to me, I also loved my medical team the doctor and physiologist, they believed that I will be OK, however I never felt I am weak as I felt in the hospital, I missed the street, I missed my mobile and I miss the internet

When my family came to see me, I did not speak about the tough nurses or the cleaning women who yell when I forget to collect my fallen hair in the bathroom , I never talked about the power politics between the patients , I told mama and siblings that I am OK, I am reading the sad story of love in the age of cholera or Marquis and it made me feel worse, I did not tell them that I stopped praying and that I do not want to talk to God and I am mad at him, I told them I will be just fine soon, mama thought I will kill myself like dad, I did best to prove to her that I do not have any suicidal tendencies.

I was sad that they did not allow my friends to visit me, I really missed them.

The hospital is the pain , insecurity, loneliness and the best mental games and tactics    

 

sexuality pains

I have to say I am a little bit conservative, let's say I am sort of open minded and religious in the same time, I fall between cracks . I was never open about my sexuality , I was shy, ashamed and discreet .

But recently the huge sexual appetite showed itself in frequent masturbations, which cause huge aftermaths. I am Muslim and there is a saying of the prophet "Hadith" meaning that the masturbator is out of the mercy of God, he \she is cursed. This hadith makes me disgusted, sad and shameful, I feel that I am dirty and God will punish me by preventing me from having sex with a partner forever.

Imagine that my only sexual pleasure will curse me, how lucky I am. By the way I forget to tell you that I am eternal virgin, I was never kissed by a guy, and I think that will not happen in the near future , I will tell you about my fucked up romance life later on.

Back to my sexuality, now the episodes turn me on, I am very sensitive to any alert, I easily find some guys talks very sexy, I find love scenes very nice, although I hate nudity but partial nudity is really exciting . I dream wet dreams a lot, I see the guys I liked doing things that they never did to me, but every time I wake up, I find myself wet and alone in my bed .

I feel I am captured in a dark cave alone, I need help to get out of it, wither by feeling OK to masturbate or to find a cute partner to loss my virginity with him. Until then I will feel bad and alone  

my great freinds

I feel I am blessed, I have great friends, they share with me my good times and bad times. My best friend M.Z saw the lowest points, in 2008 I was really sick I was admitted to mental hospital and she was there for me, M.Z is my coworker as well, she suffered with me, I wrote very rude emails to our partners and she handled it on behave of me, I called almost everyone and cursed them all and she handled it, she was the only person that I did not curse when I was sick. She is my real psychiatrist, she anticipates my episodes, she takes me to the Doctor, she pushes me to take my medicines and she punishes me if I used my illness to justify my laziness, she believes in me and she helps more that what her capacities allow her.

Another friend is my second safety net K.S, she is physiologist by career, she is the one how decided that I should be hospitalized in 2008 and she stood for her decision although others thought that she is jeopardizing my future . I am was dealing with her like Tom deals with Jerry, I always gave her hard times, but she never gave up, she was always there, helping and caring, she is the one who saw the future and dealt with the unseen , thanks to her knowledge that took me to the identification of my illness and started with me fighting it, K.S is my sweet support, she is not strict as M.Z, she understands all my stupid mental games and she never believes my lies .

Finally I want to tell you about B.M, he is my best male friend, I always felt safe and comfortable with him, he was the one who suffered the most in 2008, he was not allowed to see me or call my family to check on me, my mum would have killed him if he called, so he was scared and uninformed . and he had hard times fighting against my vicious Doctor, whom I will talk about later on, B.M knew that this doctor is abusing me and he spoke with the rest of my friends gang but my mum was so weak to change her mind and trust a new doctor. B.M is the real brother and the only brother that I ever had, I do not care for the ones who have the same last name like me.

I have more great friends to talk about, many showed me love, support and solidarity, If I  have a stupid family, Allah gave me a very good support net, my friends.

family issues

Currently I am suffering from a mixed episode, where ups and downs of the mode are frequent, these mode swings are accompanied with rise in the sexual appetite .

Because of my severe ups and downs, I had a fight with my immediate family, they are tough gang, although they suffered a lot with my illness but they are not quite supportive, in any fight they call me crazy and this word break my nerves, it turns me into a violent beast, I attack them in the nastiest way you can imagine, I use the dirtiest swears, I forget all the Islamic teachings about the love of the family and relatives. I really feel bad because I am not blessed by a supportive family, my mum thinks I am pretending and I have full control over my mode, my sister always blame me for taking her time while she was studying the high school diploma, my brother do the same , he accuses me that my episode made him fail his test.

I know I am not responsible for the sadness they went through but I also know that I need love , I need to feel the support and I need to feel secure. I hated when my extended family did not bother to ask about me for a complete year after being hospitalized, they all lied and believed the lie, they were convinced that I am abroad, while I was weak and unable to appear as  a normal person, I hate that my uncle, who has been the best dad I ever had said to me I do not believe in science and I believe in your agency, he thought I can defeat my brain chemistry. I am not a super women or a weak woman, I need to feel that I am sick and I can survive .