Who can you turn to?

At 22, I think i've seen at least eight different therapists, psychologist, counselors, and psychiatrists. give or take a couple. Now, being bi-polar for 10 plus years has taught me that you have to be aware of it, learn from it, know how to cope with it, and most importantly, recognize when you need to get help. I never liked the feeling of medication, although it did elevate my mood. I struggled to find my own personal way of dealing and coping with this disorder that would be with me for the rest of my life. At first it was a combination of negative coping mechanisms that only brought me down more. But through life and its mysterious ways, I have some how managed to live a relatively stable life. Most people wouldn't even know I was bi-polar unless they A. knew me fairly well enough B. Thought to ask me or C. was an innocent bystander when i was cycling like crazy and not myself at all.

With any mental illness, every professional will emphasize the importance of support for the person with the disorder. Friends, Family, Teachers, etc. the whole group. People you are supposed to be able to go to. Now that's all fine and dandy for people who have all those readily available. But what about if you don't? What if it's just you? Or at least you feel that way? I know that all my family love me deeply, and my friends care. to a certain extent. but in the struggle to overcome a disease. you need love, care, AND support. I never seemed to receive the last from people in my life. maybe it was partially on me, but i cant help to feel that when i came to a friend/family memeber/confidant and asked for help, support, and understanding. That I would be welcomed with open arms. That they would understand that I see how this disease affects them. How my actions can hurt others, and how at times I do things to push people away. But really, I just am aching for someone to give me a hug and stand by me. Stay there for the whole process, to want me to get better, and to help support me in a process that is not the slightest bit easy. I have many faults, i make many mistakes. but there isnt a part of me that doesnt want to get better.

Growing up...

It was in high school that I first started exploring the idea that I was depressed. I would chose to do health projects on it, search on the internet when I had time, and even went to a friend's counslors appointment. By my senior year, I had gathered enough courage to speak to the counselor on my own. After two meetings, it was decided that the next step was to tell my parents about the meeting and depression screening I had taken. Mental Illness was not new to my family. It was prevalent in my extended and immediate family. I never guessed that it would ever be a problem to tell them. I remember the day...so vividly...

My parents were in the living room, looking out the windows at the backyard. I started out slow, only saying that I had went to the school counselor. slowly, I added in the details that I had talked and taken a depression screening. At this point, my dad was silent. my mother, was pissed. She said nothing, but her face spoke a million different things to me. "It says I'm depressed." Now after the ranting and raving about what does a school counselor even know. I tried to explain how i felt. That I wasn't happy, I was crying all the time. Trying to express these horrible feelings of despair, fear, anxiety, depression, withdrawal, and suicide. That I had kept bottled inside for so long. What came next, although i didn't know at the time. Would forever change the way that my family would appear to me.

It started and ended with a single speech by my mother. In my mind, it seemed to last hours. But i'm sure it was only minutes. Phrases of her words replay in my mind still to this day. echoed by my ex-boyfriend years later. the "it's only a phase" "It's just high school" "You're over-reacting" "You're choosing to feel this way, you just need to wake up and choose to feel happy" "you're lying" "you're making it up"

It was as if my heart was crushed. Family is always supposed to be there. They are the ones who are never supposed to turn you away in times of need. I went to them. I asked for help. and they turned me away...

After that day, I didn't bring it up again for a few months. Then december came. My dad was downstairs watching tv. I started talking to him about everything. Then my mom entered the conversation. Soon a heated arguement began. I told them, that if it wasnt for my friends I wouldn't be here. As they were the ones who stopped me from killing myself. The news that I was suicidal shocked my parents to say the least. My anxiety was kicking in at this point. But I soon went into a full blown panic attack when it was threatened to pack up all my stuff and send me to an institution. As i was a danger to myself, and incapable of functioning in a normal society. I couldn't breathe at this point. My dad could see it. I needed my best friend to come over. My mom wouldn't have it. After about 10min my dad finally convinced her to let my friend come over. I went in my room, calmed down with the help of my best friend, and didn't speak to my parents for almost two days. I was hurt by the words my parents spoke. After that day, I spoke nothing more to my parents about it. I knew that my family would never be the support that I needed to get better. I had to find another way.

After facing the reality that I could never go to them for help. I started making friends that would hopefully fill the void that was created by the falling out of my family. I wanted someone who was going to stick around. I vowed to be the friend who you could always turn to in times of need. As I knew how important it was to feel as though as someone was always there. I hoped, wished, prayed and did everything I could to find friends that would do the same. I see now that this was a foolish thought. No friend could ever be what i wanted and needed them to be.

Through roommates and friends, I found different girls and guys that seemed to fill that void at times. But usually their friendships faded. Some lasted a while, but in the end they all left. Some moved, others we grew apart. And others left, just because.

I can understand the burden that my emotional and mental status can put on a friendship or relationship. I tried to be understanding, and just told myself that it was not meant to be. A better friend or boyfriend would come along. After the falling out with my family. I felt abandoned, alone, and lost. Not knowing where to go and who to turn to. There were feeble attempts throughout my first years of college to get help. I was greeted with a little more sympathy from my family. but they were empty gestures in my eyes. talks that seemed filled with despise and guilt to go along with what I was doing. As though they felt obligated, but still did not believe that I needed help.

My world seemed to change when I met this guy, who i ended up dating for just shy of two years. He changed my world. I was loved. He was there when I needed it, and he knew how my family was. He was the support to get through it. It was as though someone finally believed in me. But he didn't believe in the disease. Some of the same my mother had spoken to me three years earlier were spoken again. It hurt, but i stopped talking about my disease and was just happy with having him in my life. It ended, and it hurt. But any relationship that long was going to hurt. What hurt the most, was that once again. I was left. Standing in a very big world, with no one except myself. I had lost the little bit of support that I had gained.

One of my friends who I had known since freshman year, then came back into my life. Our friendship had faded in and out over the course of college. But we came back together after the break up. She was my rock for a while. Keeping me in a mindset that it would all pass, and be good again. How much can you really ask of a person though? I soon saw that my problems were far too much for her to handle or hear about. She strayed, and I accepted the fact that it was too much. We kept this casual, talked about the normal stuff. School, boys, work, stupid family drama. But I was always hesitant to talk freely with her about things. There were times when she reached out, and wanted me to get help. Was there for the first step, but never the second. I knew then, that she was just a friend and not support.

I was always prone to have more guy friends than girls. I was a tomboy growing up and I just seemed to be more comfortable around guys. After the break up, I met him. He is this wonderfully, caring, kind-hearted individual. Soft-spoken and cares deeply about all his friends. In those following months that turned into a year. We became each others support in essence. He had moved to another state, we had daily conversations. Helping each other through whatever life could throw at us. He brought me out of some really dark places, and kept me from going into even darker ones. He was my best friend, there was truth and kindness in his words. He wanted to help, but he wanted me to do the work to get better. It was what I needed. He stuck around even through all the bullshit that my life seems to have. And then it all changed. He had gotten a girlfriend. She was sweet, caring, funny, and they are perfect together. i'm so happy that he found someone, he deserves only the best. But in him achieving happiness, I once again lost the support I once had. He could still be my friend, but I couldn't go to him for help anymore. This shocked me at first, I was furious for the first week or so. I didn't want to give it up. There were too many other people who had just got up and walked out of my life. He couldn't do this to me. He knew my past. He knew what had happened with my family. He knew. Those two words were stuck in my head for days. Trying to figure out how he could just leave with the drop of a hat. He knew what it would do to me. How could someone who was my best friend want to cause me that much pain. But then I realized, just as before. That he was just a friend. A person to talk about the weather with, or how school is going. But i could never again talk to him again about how I was doing. He really likes this girl, and i understand that their relationship is and needs to be his main focus. He no longer could be the friend that he used to be. The status quo had changed, the rules were different. And I had to accept it. He was a friend, not support.

I know that I cannot depend on one person to make me get better, or to handle it all themselves. But as friends and family. Don't you want to support those you care about? Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place? But this journey, that I have tried so many times. It requires support. It is an essential requirement to the healing process. So where do you turn? When family and friends have all shown that they are not the support you need. Friends, you can always find new ones. But family...I've only got one, and it doesnt do much good for this.

So, I'm on my own. Left with no one but myself. I've heard the "turn to God" approach. And while it may work for some. It's not right for me. Somedays I feel as though I've run out of options. I need someone to support me, to be there, to help me get through the bad days and celebrate the good. I search myself for the strength to do this by myself. That I dont need anyone else. I most likely come off as a bitch, but when everyone who ever mattered to me left in the end. It's hard to believe someone I just met wont leave me again. Shattered in pieces, because I opened my heart up. And they left while it was still exposed.

Who can you turn to? Who do I turn to? I hope that one day, I will find someone that I can trust and believe. Someone who wont leave when things get tough. But until that day comes, if ever. I'm alone. on my own. trying to overcome a disease that is the scariest monster at times. It's the scariest thing I ever think about. When its 2am and i'm in tears in my room. With a full pill bottle dumped out on my lap. There's no one to call to tell me not to, that someone loves me and cares. Theoretically, I shouldn't need this person. Because I shouldnt be thinking those things anywhere.

When i'm standing at the edge, balancing ever so carefully. Who will be the one to pull me to safety? who will be there to catch me if I fall?

It's just me now. But I cant pull myself to safety, and I cant catch myself if I fall. I think that is the scariest thing in the entire world.