The following is a story I wrote that was published in the book
"125 Douglas Stories and Drawings" published in 2006.
RUNAWAY TRAIN
Written by WriterTash80
“Like a madman laughing at the rain;
A little out of touch, a little insane;
It’s just easier than dealing with the pain”
-Soul Asylum, Runaway Train
One day in January, I went to work as usual. I worked as a barmaid and had been switching from hypomania to mania since October. I had not been sleeping. I was drinking like a fish, dabbling in drugs, being overly sociable and promiscuous. My thoughts racing faster than machine gun bullets. Basically, I was never home and I was never bored.
I was aware of my condition but believed I could handle it without medication or therapy. I was fine in my own head. It was really nothing I couldn’t manage; or so I thought.
That January night, at work, my boss and I argued and he threatened to suspend me from work.
That was the trigger. I came unglued.
As I became undone, I barely recall anything of the events that followed, I vaguely remember closing and leaving work.
What I do remember clearly is the morning that ensued; I was at the train station, asking for a ticket to anywhere that was affordable. I had five hundred dollars and ended up buying a ticket for Toronto.
One thing led to another quickly. I was starting to feel a ball of anxiety boiling inside of me by Cornwall and soothed myself with lots of alcohol and by talking to a nice man I met on the train. Once there, my new friend and I walked around Toronto, killing time while he waited for his connecting train. After he’d left, I decided to go to the airport and fly to Florida where my long-distance boyfriend at the time lived.
However, once I couldn’t find my passport (I had packed my suitcase thoughtfully with a CD case, a skirt, socks, underwear and a dress and books, lots and lots of books…)
I called my boyfriend who inquired about my whereabouts. He told me to call my mother: she was worried.
I realized everything I done to the ones I loved and left without a thought.
I finished the call and stared at the phone. Dreading the inevitable.
As reality dawned on me, I slowly became sullen, angry, irritable and agitated.
I called my mother and we argued. I missed two planes before heading home to Montreal.
I didn’t want to go home.
At home I became hysterical and irrational. In my unraveling paranoia I accused my parents of hiding my passport, I was sure that they “did not want me to leave”, that they “just want to cage me up and stay in this stupid little town” that they want me miserable.
When I calmed down a little and realized that they hadn’t taken my passport, I blamed myself and tore and ransacked my bedroom madly, yelling nonsense to my mother.I eventually fell asleep after drinking a bottle of wine.
The next morning I woke up to find my Doctor in our living room, talking with my parents. He looked at me and said,“I hope you know now that you are bipolar and not just a little bipolar.”
I am now taking medication to help myself achieve the lifestyle I want, along with inevitable lifestyle changes.It’s never going to be completely easy, being constantly afraid of myself, but much easier to achieve the balance I need.
I’ve been dealing with this since I was 15 and desperately depressed, I tried suicide twice, I can now find hope. Even when I slip up, I recognize the signs now and can do something about it. It’s so important to me to have the people around me, my mother and my father who is bipolar as well, my sister and my wonderful boyfriend to keep me focused on what is real about me.
It was hard at first to see the bigger picture, but eventually, I got back to my life, to my thoughts and making sense for once. Most importantly, I no longer view myself as a disease on two legs.
It feels great to be finally be able to make my own decisions and not feel like “something” is making the decisions for me.
For the first time since I was fifteen and first found out about my bipolar disorder, I can see hope. I am followed-through at the Douglas and have been improving.
With the care from the Douglas, the support of my family and a devoted boyfriend, I finally find balance in my life. There’s nothing wrong with me and I am not ashamed or uncertain as I once was.
There is hope. There is love and I am finally open to help stringing the pieces of myself together. I am proud to be myself.
