I haven’t even written on here yet about what happened to me, I guess I’ve been waiting until I am ready. I am not ready.

Since I was attacked, my bipolar has been up and down. Immediately following the incident I became hypomanic, and have been dealing with shifts and instability every since.

One thing I am really struggling with since the attack is my empathy. Empathy is already heightened in bipolar, and since I am training to become a counsellor (another thing I’ve not yet discussed on here) I find this is a skill we are encouraged to learn. However, for me, this was not an area in which I lacked to begin with.

Bipolar Disorder always gave me extreme empathy, or sympathy, towards others. I couldn’t see a homeless person in the street, or a child bullied in a film without crying, hurting, to the point where it physically hurt me to feel the pain of another person. Often, I’d feel this more intensely than the person who was actually going through it.

I was violently attacked earlier in this year, and since then I feel like I cannot contain this empathy. It is no longer a tool for me to use, it is crippling. It hurts, and I cry an awful lot.

My example about seeing a child bullied in a film previously did not come from nowhere, this happened to me yesterday watching a film in the cinema with my partner. I didn’t cry, I managed to just about not, but I really needed to. That person wasn’t even real but I still felt the pain all so vividly and all so real.

I’ve been doing some CPD on mental illnesses, but I’m finding this triggering for unknown reasons. When I looked at dementia for example, it took me a very long time to complete this module as it kept making me cry. I’ve never known somebody with dementia, nor do I really know anybody impacted by this terrible disease. But the ability to feel how that would feel for just one passing second, is too heavy.

I also found out today that my childhood pet suffered from dementia in her later years. I was not at home, a young 20 something off out in the world. I loved her dearly and I didn’t even know of her struggle. She may not have been human but that seems to make my empathy even higher if anything. To think of her, afraid and confused, it breaks my heart. I have cried throughout writing this entire post so far but this one has had be in pieces.

It hurts, it is too heavy. I doubt my abilities to work in a mental health capacity any more.

I don’t understand, in a way I feel like it makes sense to have been impacted by what happened to me. But this is constant, even at times where I feel OK about myself and my future, am I not processing it?

I don’t see how I could possibly not be processing this, it’s all I think about. I feel a lot of pain towards my own reality at the moment, but this seems to come out when faced with the hardships of others much more strongly. Then I end up struggling with mine and their stuff, with no idea how to do this.

I didn’t answer the phone to my friend tonight, she has a lot going on and I want to be there for her, but I have nothing to give right now and don’t want to be seen this way.

It hurts, it is too heavy.