Attachment and Addiction, How it Can Break Your Spirit

So for the past few weeks, I have been my happy-go-lucky self. I was in and out of countless relationships, and I was on top of the world. Then GameChanger came along. I don’t have much to say about him, and I don’t want this post to be about whining over my most recent letdown, so I am going to talk about Addiction.

Being bipolar is really hard. The hardest part about having this illness is how susceptible we become to drugs, alcohol and most of all people. We become obsessed, almost driving our brain into a frenzy in desperation to get to that “high.” When we become attached to someone we go ALL out, and sometimes downright smother them. In all my boasting on how I “Had it All” I forgot the fundamental truth which is “I don’t have shit.” Having the upper hand in which you have all the men begging for your attention is one thing, but then stopping for a second, breathing, and appreciating someone for what their worth, is most humbling.

GameChanger came in and rocked my world. Let’s just put aside for the moment that he is much younger than me, and I thought it was nearly impossible for this to happen. What I am putting into perspective is that I became very attached, something I warned myself of not doing. I can’t help it. I LOVE spending time with this man. I really, really hate that I do too. Why? Because there are nights like these in which he tells me he will not be available. Usually, in most cases, I would shrug it off and “on to the next one!” But this is different. I am literally hurt, disappointed, and aching on the inside. I HATE this feeling. I HATE the fact that I allowed myself to fall for this person. It is literally soul-crushing and it broke my spirit.

Most people would say to themselves, “hey it’s only one night.” But to a bipolar person? That “night” lasts for an eternity. We obsess and obsess, and we can’t shake this person from out minds. We fight and fight, we try our best to fill the obsession with other things, maybe even other people. What is scary to me is that I don’t even want to drink or fight the feeling. I am letting it eat at me. I am probably going to lay in my covers and hide in a mountain of pain for the rest of the evening. All over one dude? How pathetic am I?

How is a bipolar person supposed to cope with attachment and addiction?

The world may never know.

Stay tuned.

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