There Is Always Something (re-post)

I was in my car driving and I felt the urge that I've felt so many time before but upon which I have failed to follow through. I want to take the time to publicly share some of my feelings and thoughts on the difficulties of Bipolar Disorder. I've not been shy about explaining to people that I have Bipolar I Disorder. I fall into craters of depression so low I find it hard to get out of bed along with times of extreme agitation where my mind is literally bombarded by incessant thoughts of suicide. These started when I was 18 and have continued to varying levels of difficulty for the last 11 years. I say all this to show that 11 years and still living has given me a wealth of experience in dealing with these difficulties. I haven't always made good choices in coping with my problems and even have attempted suicide twice. By the grace of God I'm still here and have added 2 reasons to live that make every battle worth winning, in my wife, Teana and my son, Ezekiel. But I didn't always think I would have them to help fight the fight.

I used to want to share the sufferings of the illness with others. I'm still app to do that on occasion when solicited but at this point in my life my desire is really to bring understanding and hope to those who need it and their families. There was a time in those early years where I was barely hanging on and felt abandoned and alone. My mind had turned on me and was rooting for my demise and even arguing its inevitability. I believed it to the point of almost not making it beyond that period. I often think now, what would I have said to that scared, fragile boy who was so consumed by darkness and madness that there was no way for him to see the life before him. In those times God spared my life, despite my every effort to end it, and I found a Doctor who did so much for me that my son is named after him. The path was a lot more complicated then that but the point was I went from a boy with little to no hope for the future to a still struggling man with a loving family that battles for the tender mercies God has bestowed on him in his wife and kid.

It is those who are in the fog of despair that I direct my thoughts. What would I say to those people? I would say hold on. Hold on with everything you have. Hold on like everything depends on you and then lean on others and the Lord like you have nothing left to give. I've always found that at the moments of deepest darkness, when I'm ready to throw in the towel, there is always some thought that comes to mind of why I am here on the earth and why I haven't given up yet. The thought of a loved one, or a game of one-on-one with my brother; One more joke I need to tell my sister and make her laugh; A memory of a time where i could feel the sun warming my skin and the joys of summer; A court side Mavs game with my best friend. I don't believe there are many people in the world who 100% want out of life. If we all think hard enough there are people we will miss and memories made that we want to make again. Those are what I have always held on to. They may not be that reassuring in the moment of bitter torment, but they are as real as the suffering and so is the fact that more of those memories can be our future. My life is evidence of that. I always told myself I'd never find a girl who could put up with me, who would love me despite my craziness. I found her and she has given me joy beyond compare, even at times of great suffering.

This battle is one fought behind closed doors in dark rooms and under layers of covers. It is a battle fought with torment at the very hours most of the world peacefully sleeps dreaming happy thoughts, on dark roads with blaring music at 3am. It is lonely. It feels lonely and it seems hopeless. But I assure anyone dealing with it or loving someone dealing with it that it isn't hopeless. There is always hope. If you want a fairy tale ending, I can't assure you of that. This is a battle you will face the rest of your life. But it can get a lot better and it can be an impairment without being debilitating. I have 11 years of evidence to prove it. And that's just me.