You Won’t Break Me.

To the previous men (boys) I’ve dated, thinking they broke me,

Do you really think it’s that easy for me to just snap out of an argument full of name calling (only from you) and “jabs” which inevitably caused me to have an even harder time, you know I was right, in everything that was said?  I’m not able to be “okay” with the snap of your fingers; the inevitable resolution only serving you. I’m left with so many questions, hurting, left alone and crying, as you sleep ever so soundly. Yes, I know you have a job. However, it seems as an excuse to treat me like nothing ever happened during your vicious retaliation. Do you even have feelings? How dare you tell me that this traumatic situation is simple to overcome, or it’s just something small and irrelevant.  That really, really throws me off.


You have made the decision to love me no matter what, through the thick and thin, full knowledge of my mental illness. It sure does not feel like you know, let alone care about anything at all, when you try and change my perspective to yours, your problems, at the wrong time, in the middle of the night.  Your perspective won’t fix me or cure my mood, fortunately for you, you got something off your chest and now it’s done and over with, “goodnight, love you.” I said what I had to say, while it may have come off volatile, I did not throw name calling just to hurt you, that was childish and low from someone like you. Calling me a “cold woman”. Saying “it doesn’t feel good to get jabbed, does it, can we stop fighting now, come to bed”.

No! What?

I shut down because you obviously don’t understand and how can I expect you to? You don’t have the capability to empathize. You have proven that you just think I’m crazy. When I say I try, I mean I’m trying and fighting with all I have to live with this disorder.

So do you really think you’ve done all the research about this illness, and you have seen how detrimental this disorder can be for all of who suffer? Isn’t it hard enough for the average person to change their attitude when overcoming obstacles?  Congratulations, you got your shit together, good job.  Do you want a cookie?

It is counterproductive and idiotic to tell me to stop focussing on the negatives.  I already know that, I’ve tried that.  You don’t think I’ve already figured out that you think it’s all in my head sometimes?  All you have done is signify yet another shortcoming to add to my shitty chemical imbalance, and it’s one hell of a mind fuck to deal with which I never asked for, but I try.  Your “seeing red” and stomping on me certainly doesn’t help.

When you love someone with Bipolar Disorder, claiming that you understand mental health, cut it out with the insensitive comments and offering your unwanted “help” and “guidance” You just made me feel worse about what I already know and can’t always control. Ignoring me, saying you would have asked for sex if you didn’t assume I was so sad…? Come on…

I think a lot about how you feel, yet you lack to tell me, though I already know because I feel it every day. Don’t throw it in my face like verbal diarrhea in one messy run on paragraph. I know you have feelings, hardships and that I don’t make it easier.

But you don’t conquer demons every single day of your life, you don’t need professional help, you don’t pay for medical bills, medications, therapy, psychiatrists, a lawyer for a disability claim that has been denied in the past because mental health stigma exists even in the government.

This is sadly directed to someone I love. I’m fine, just really angry. You did this.

Published by capricious.capo

I am diagnosed as Bipolar 1. I am an advocate for mental health awareness and have helped fundraise towards nonprofit organizations like NAMI. I write about my own personal struggles and success stories to help end a national stigma that hurts and alienates those who battle mental illness. Beyond fighting for mental health awareness, I am tech nerd, hair enthusiast, film buff and music lover. I love my family and support system with all my heart. I have green hair and tattoos because I want to. I’ve always stood out in one way or another. I studied photography and received an associates degree. I have my high school AP literature teacher to thank for inspiring me to pursue journalism, and for writing me a heartfelt letter of recommendation that I still have as a reminder. High school was a decade ago, but in times like these, Publishing an opinionated, personal and maybe controversial blog about living with a mood disorder seemed like a good enough start.

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