6 minute read
Out and About
Things became scary about 2 years into my relationship with my now life partner. I did so good hiding her. But at 2 years in she arrived very forcefully, I was very scared to tell my wife. I told her when we started to date that I may be Bipolar, but I (her) did not want the help or the medication. My Wife was the one to ask me what it was that I was going through, and I had to confess I was depressed. She was the one that told me getting help is ok, acknowledging mental health was ok. She was the first black person to tell me that. My mom knew what I was going through by naming my moods, but she never told me I need help. She made things seem like it was ok. Finally, a black person was telling me that people have mental issues and it is ok to talk about it and get help. This is when she started to fight hard again. She was so strong, I really felt bad that my wife had to meet her. For the next 2 years she became something I could not explain. I started to verbally abuse my wife, I really put her through things that I am not proud of. I don’t know how my wife stayed by my side; I really do not. Everything just became dark; I was so suicidal and so distant. I could not fight her, I just couldn’t anymore, she drowned me completely…. I wanted to die so bad. Me, the normal me. I gave up, I was defeated. I was tired. Every time I tried to fight her off it made me tired. She started to stay longer than 3-4 days, she started to control how I was parenting and the partner I was. She wanted started to only want death, depression was not enough for her. She kept telling me that I wanted to die, and I was too tired to argue with her. One day I sat at my desk at work. First, I wrote Rashad a goodbye note on a back of a picture of me and him that was at my desk. I wrote my wife a long letter about how thankful I was for her and her sharing a wonderful daughter with me. I left Rashad’s note at my desk, knowing that someone would notice it and eventually give it to him. My wife’s note I left in my work bag and would only put it where she would find it when I was ready to go. I was just waiting for her to return and just let her have her way. I told my self to take it slow I was still scared. I took one pill at a time. Before I got to the tenth or so pill, my wife text me telling me that one of her close friends just died. The me that loved life came back really quick. I told myself she can not come home to me dead, the same day. I told my wife what I was doing, I guess she called 911 before heading home. I was on a 72-hour hold, then spent another 3 days at a mental hospital. I felt like I won. I let myself be diagnosed and given medication. She did not win. It has been 1 ½ years since that event (I think) and I have progressed so much. I am proud to say yes, I am Bipolar 2. I have become ok explaining who she is, and what she was like and how EVIL she was. Yes, sometimes she tries to say hello, I call it sweet talking me. Sometimes she almost gets her way and may be able to get me for a day or 2. Even the Mania has balanced out; I feel so in control of my own life. I am still the only afro American person that I know talks about their mental health (that I know). I can look at my family and tell I am not the only one. Me and my mother have talked, and I am convinced that she is also Bipolar, but she still won’t acknowledge it. She is just very supportive of my issue. I try to tell family members that it is ok to feel weak sometimes. I want our community to welcome mental health and not fear it. We need each other’s experiences so that we can become one. Sometimes I will do a mental health post on how I am feeling, in hope that people relate and open up. I’m waiting for more of our people to be open, and that has happened. Our community is now talking out loud about depression, PTSD, and anxiety. I hope that my little story helps even more express themselves.
I have decided to continue my story. My life matters to me now. I hope that if anyone does read this it helps. Life happens and you can not control what takes place, but you can seek help. I could not control what I went through since I was 9, all I can do now is open up about it all and continue to be open. It has been a long road and I want to live and love for many, many more years to come! I am Jaton, I’m 30 years old married, with two children and I am Bipolar.
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