I’m all over the place…I think…I dunno
Updated: Oct 4, 2021
So it happened again today. You’d think after 15 years of living with this beast, that I’d get the hang of it. Nope. Just when you think you’ve conquered it all, the beast rises again, crushes you and destroys you until you can’t even walk. Then you have to make the hard choice:
Do I turn to Allah for help? Do I reach out to the people and tools my Sustainer provided? Do I humble myself before The Master and admit that I am indeed lost and sick and need The Healer’s help again?
It’s a choice I have to make regularly. And frankly, it’s exhausting. It’s down right terrifying, EVERY SINGLE TIME.
I forget I have bipolar often because alhumulillah I have so many periods of normalcy. I start coasting, forgetting, slipping. And then I get a jolt of mania again. Smack in the middle of my head.
The pictures on my vision board start talking to me. Every normal phrase someone says because of sexual nature while at the same time, I’m writing, reciting, memorizing duas constantly that I can’t even think a single thought without hundreds of distortions getting in the way.
It’s like I’m trying to drive home but there is traffic in my way and then an accident happens and then I get a flat tire and then a cop pulls me over. My brain’s messages just keep getting blocked that I can’t even make a decision as to whether I should wear the black shirt or the white.
Bro Omar came on my podcast last week and what he said really hit home today.
He said that he was in an exam once and his blood sugar was low because he has diabetes so he reached in his school bag, ate a granola bar and continued doing his work. He asked, “why can’t we do the same with bipolar?”
Yes, why not Saba?! So today I did.
As usual, pictures are talking to me, people are starring at me, food is morphing into disgusting body parts, I see mold and toxins everywhere and I can’t sleep at night because it’s too hot, no it’s too cold. There are worms crawling on my fingertips, there are ants in my ears, there are spiders in my legs. Every fried food and sugar is poison and will kill me instantly so logically I can’t stop telling the world about the latest health nut book I read…on and on. That’s a 5 min look into my brain.
And you know what ALL this spells??
“MY BLOOD BIPOLAR SUGAR IS LOW!”
It’s nothing to be afraid of my friend. Just know the *signs* of a “low bipolar sugar” aka mania symptoms. And then take the necessary steps. So what steps did I take today?
Firstly, I made everything in my room white, almost like a hotel/hospital room in a really upscale psych ward. My sheets and curtains are already white. I cleared the floor so now I see the beige carpet. I turned the mirror on its back because it’s so weird in this state that I can’t look at other humans, especially in the eye. It’s like sensory overload. When I even look in the mirror right now, I get scared. I cannot process the human face. It sets off a major bomb in my head and then it explodes in my brain so of course I scream, yell and, “Tell them to shut up!!”
So alhumdulillah I avoid all that now. I just don’t make eye contact, put on a baseball cap or sun glasses and I just flip the mirror in my room. Done. Next is my damn vision board. I mean normally it motivates me but today Daniel Goleman just won’t stop talking about emotional intelligence and Dalia Mogahed is telling me to go the gym and get my HITT workout in.
Are you having a hard time following?
So am I. I feel like I’m playing the piano right now and making music. It’s keeping me sane so I don’t care if it makes sense.
It makes sense to me right now and that’s all that matters because writing centers me, grounds me, tells me I’m not dumb or a “retard” just cuz I’m seeing things.
Writing gives me power. My words give me strength to shut out the voices.
My typing gives me the power to quiet Jenny and Tammy. Who are these two? That’s for another post. Anyway, I took my pills, the ones as needed. My husband gave them to me because I can’t be trusted with those ones so alhumdulillah for him.
Then I ran the heck out of this beat. My throat hurts from breathing so hard and my feet are sore and head is hurting but man do I feel GOOD!! Running releases the mental tension and brings my thoughts and body back to reality: out of my head and into the 5 senses.
So my “granola bar” for a “low bipolar sugar” is an extra pill, dispensed by hubby, then writing and running. If I come up with more bars, I shall post it here inshaAllah. God knows how much I need them! Cuz I forget like hell!! (That’s a whole another post)
Also, check out Bro Omar’s FREE eBook “THE BREAKTHROUGH CHALLENGE FOR MUSLIMS.” Click HERE to get your free copy! I’m currently at chapter two and a lot of it really hits home. Sign up and support his mission to “serve Muslims who are struggling with depression, anxiety, bipolar, and other mental health struggles.”
Alright, salaam, khuda hafiz, later, adddiiiiossss. I’m slightly up and owning my choppy writing. I know I’ll look back and marvel and dissect as to how I wrote this post, why and laugh all the while and even cry. I love it.