I got these scars one and a half years ago. I was majorly depressed, so much so that I mixed a strip of sleeping pills with beer and cycled 40 kilometers. I crashed so many times that I couldn’t even remember where I crashed and which day it happened. I was addicted to the bastardly concoction and it made me so delusional that I got back on my bike day after day.
Before the depression, I was so manic that I thought I was bloody Lance Armstrong himself. I had his sunglasses, helmet, jersey and wristband. If I could’ve afford it, I’d buy the same bike that Lance used. $14,000 would have wiped out my savings so I bought a lower range Trek bike and tried spraying a yellow livery on it. My good friend was concerned and she told me “You’re not him you know…” I told her even if I trained a hundred years I could never be as fit as Lance. I was lying to myself – I wanted to be like him.
Every day I would get up at 4 a.m. and go to my favourite cycling route. As I’ve mentioned it’s 40 kilometers long and that includes a 10 kilometer hill climb. Lance Armstrong was a hill-climbing specialist so I desperately wanted to conquer the hill in the least amount of time possible. I set a target of 30 minutes to get to top and for weeks I couldn’t reach my goal. I’d go home feeling frustrated, have a nap and then go for a 10 kilometer run as I was also training for a full marathon.
All of a sudden I was struck by depression. It was as if someone just switched off the light bulb in my head. I couldn’t comprehend why I was depressed because I had the means to support my rolling-stone lifestyle and I felt closer to my friends than ever before. I thought maybe it’s because I couldn’t conquer that bloody hill so I tried every trick in the book but I still failed. I was exhausted and I started sleeping 8, 10, 12 hours a day.
In the end I slept 16 hours a day and became a recluse. I avoided my friends’ phone calls and I didn’t bother checking my Facebook. Even the thought of walking out of the house was too much for me. Then I started to drink and I hated myself for that because I was a teetotaler for 9 months prior. Beer didn’t pick up mood so I mixed it with sleeping pills and that’s the reason why I have these scars on my legs.
Right now I’m feeling fine and my thoughts are lucid. I’m able to look at the past and finally accept the fact that bipolar disorder is an illness that I can’t beat. I can only learn how to deal with it. Writing this blog has been helpful because I can look back at it and think “Hey, you’re not going to do that again are you?”
I hope you’ve found some insights in this post. Till next time, take care!