Dreams die in the Fog

The lies
They take hold
Implant in my mind
No persuasion otherwise
This just is
Fantasy of life
On the wings of delusion
What could be
Buried deep in illusion
Who are you
To believe
To pursue
Don’t forget
It is you
That rides the wave of confusion
Your mind overrides
Any sense
Any infusion
Of possibility
Your Dreams die in the fog
Of unrequited absolution
For you dear one
Rest in between the realm of
reality
Duality and
Persecution
The long road is ahead
Forever waiting

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Anger & Lies

The anger
My anger pulsates into my boots
Sitting Across the room
My raw naked toes
Stretch and reach for comfort
Warmth of a blanket
My heart has turned cold
The lies unfolding
Who are we
Turns out nothin I behold
Pretending for the sake
Of stability
The stench of confusion
In my wake
How could I
Could you
Carry on knowing
So much to be untrue
Kisses
Passion
Unbridled senses
Falsified
As you tip toe
Around me
Us

 

 

 

The Many Faces of Bipolar

I lay here curled under the covers at 1pm. Motionless I stare at the curtain blocking the world out.  Sometimes I think it ripples feeling the breeze against the window.  The overnight rain has subsided but I guess there’s more to come. The dark cloud of depression has settled itself in my room.  Stretching out. Getting comfortable.  The air feels thinner now.  It’s a struggle to breath. In fact, everything is a struggle.

This thick veil of blankets used to weigh me down. But in this moment I think it’s my very existence causing undue pressure. I repeat over and over how sorry I am. Sorry for the burden I’ve become. The trouble I seem to cause. The constant worry you shoulder.  The fear of not knowing who I’m going to be when you arrive home: angry or agitated or manic or depressed. Or worse yet,cycling through them all.

My voice 12 octaves higher signaling I’m manic. Not to mention all the projects I’ve started in the last 8 hours. Honey! Honey I wrote a song today. It’s really good. You are going to like it. Racing around w paint in my hair. Look at the colors in this. I don’t know how I did it. Came out great, right?

My lifeless body on the couch. Can barely muster a hello. Can’t muster a how was your day dear. This is where I was when you left this morning.  No, I haven’t eaten. I’m just not hungry. No I didn’t shower again, I’m so tired.

The echo throughout the house of my rage shakes the pictures. Scares the cat.  Nothing you say is right. I’m not fucking hungry alright. Leave it alone. Why don’t you cook once in a while for gods sakes! I clean and I clean and look at this mess. I don’t know why I bother.

You wipe away the never ending tears fielding my questions: what happened? I was doing everything right. I mean, wasn’t I? I’m a good person, aren’t I? I don’t mean to be this way, cause so much pain.  I don’t understand. Why now? Why? I don’t think I can live like this anymore

The many faces of bipolar.

I Am the Storm

I feel so lost. So confused. Unraveling. Tears and more tears fall unanswered.  Just hours before I was sitting tall espousing on how I was going to really help turn the agency I’m going to work for around.  With my working knowledge of both systems, I was just the right person for the job. Yet, hours later I’m pacing around hysterical. Yelling at my husband..I really don’t remember about what.  Feeling so out of control.

Thoughts of suicide careen around in my mind.  Pure chaos takes over. Demands that I take a PRN to help calm down feel like daggers. I don’t know why. Its the right suggestion. Its a good idea. But I kick, yell and scream about how unfair this all is.  Poor poor me.

Our frustrations hang in the air and wrestle with our unspoken words.  Everything hurts. What you say. What you don’t say.  The darkness I can see coming for me.  The relentless noise in my head.  What am I doing wrong I shout! I’m a good person I insist! Apologies fly out of my mouth laced with fear.  Please don’t give up on me. I’m so sorry. I know you deserve better. I want to give you better but I’m all tied up.  Bipolar disorder has me in knots. Angry knots.  If only I could untangle myself.  Then. Then I could just end it all.  Now, that’s a good idea.

Finally, red faced and ashamed I slink off to bed.  The tornado of emotions has passed.   I didn’t see it coming. Seems lately I never do.  No capacity for self awareness.  I lay my head on my pillow and ask for forgiveness.  I do not wish to be a storm in our lives. I really don’t!

Let me apologize in advance

I am wrestling with myself. So agitated. Every noise and every light grating on me. Every email I read sets off rage. I hate everyone. In the next moment I am cowering in the bathroom crying. Uncomfortable. Disgruntled. But then just overwhelmed and sad.  A lovely mixed episode according to my doc. What did I do to deserve this?

I think this started last night. I was wanting to peel my skin off out of disgust. I have just let myself go. Any semblance of a workout routine gone.  I used to be so fit and dedicated. Now I’m a sloth.  I curse myself, but do nothing about it. I set my alarm last night to exercise this morning before work. I got my out of shape butt on the treadmill by 6 am.

In addition, I am having trouble w my supervisor at work. I’m trying to get a new job. The environment is making me unhealthy.  I’m frustrated and confused about her responses to me.  I came home upset last night and as a result could not sleep. My mind was in overdrive and I began obsessing.  Catastrophizing. Creating immense anxiety. Then my mind was scripting interactions and exactly what I should say, what they would say…on and on. Agonizing.  I had to take an additional medication to make it stop.

This post is nothing but a rant. No substance. Sorry.  I have nowhere else to go!! well except the bathroom to cry some more. Pitiful!

 

Swings and Arrows

Monday I was filled with anxiety, but that was to be expected  as I returned to work after a 3  week leave of absence. In that span of time I was hospitalized, had a med change,attended outpatient, and tried to stay stress free. The only goal for the day was to wade through all my emails.

Tuesday I had an unexpected “run in” with my supervisor.  She did not follow through on something for me as she had said she would.  In fact she almost looked like a deer in headlights. She vaguely remembered our brief exchange around my request. I suggested I had emailed it to her the 1st day I was on leave.  She then said, no she must have “missed that.” Within a half hour she shot me a series of emails telling me she did not receive such email from me. She scoured the special email folder she has for me.  This began the email war.  She demanded I send the actual forwarded email to her. Well, I didn’t have it.

Wednesday morning she sent an email at 6:23am stating, thank goodness for text records.  It was through text I had requested assistance on a few items, not email. But, no mention of the billing.  Awesome idea…texts!  I also have text records. Which indicated among the texts she recalled, I also sent one regarding the billing and she said she would email the vendor and request it be sent to her for processing.  The war ended here. But I still felt thrown under the bus. She didn’t admit or even acknowledge she dropped the ball and I had to let the vendor know it wouldn’t be done.  All this drama may have sparked a touch of hypomania. I was so obnoxious and sarcastic and witty and just over the top silly the entire work day. So much so that I apologized to a few people.

Thursday I couldn’t get out of bed.  My body was so heavy. I lied to my supervisor and said my car wouldn’t start, I’d be late. I got there a little after 10. I had no energy.  I couldn’t get my brain to work.  I can’t understand what this unspoken tension is with my supervisor. I have been at my agency for 17 yrs, had countless supervisors and never any trouble.  I feel like I have a target on my back.

Today, Friday, our entire team is supposed to participate in a panel interview for a potential vendor. Its an immense and important project. I am the only one who has experience with this vendor. I have been excused in order to work on an emergency situation.  Confused is what I am.

Thing is, I’m a good worker. Probably try too hard. I know my stuff. In fact, know more and have done way more than her. I don’t care about that. I just think a little respect goes a long way.  I’m becoming paranoid because I have divulged my illness to her. What if she tries to use it against me? Is there an arrow pointed at me?

 

Welcome to the Show

This is a retred…I find myself wearing a mask often around the holidays.

Welcome to the masquerade ball
Where all are dressed to a tee
Lace and leather
Satin and feather
An invitation to mockery
Grand fall from grace
Faces upon faces sache
Empty emotion locked in place
Bittersweet madness captured
I search and
I search
For a sense of reality
Lost in the maze of duality
Frozen and Contorted smiles
Bright colored sadness
In a fit of desperation
I dash from mask to mask
Begging for guidance
One hand wipes away my tear
One turns a cold shoulder
I falter, scramble
Into the devil himself
Red cape smooth as silk
White gloves of evil
His finger to my lips
My Muffled screams do not echo
The picture perfect persona
Melded to my face
I am left to dance with inner turmoil
Only I can see
Round and round
The room devoid of humanity
An air of confused dignity
Heads held high in reform
It’s a new way of living
Behind the glitter and shine
One step two
Your existence but a matter
Of show
Of fools gold
Shattered pieces of self
Fall away under the fancy guise
Red stiletto heels stomping on real faces
Emotions masked
But not dulled
Pain will reign
There shall the devil be
Preying on your fragility

Devil Has Taken up Court

Tyranny run amok
In the recesses of my mind
The devil has taken up court
And he is most unkind
Thoughts don’t feel like my mine
Reverberations of self hate
Confusion and guilt
Influenced by his lordship
He pushes me as I begin to slip
Into the darkness of his hell
His fire and brimstone
Manipulate my soul
Heavy handed he baits me
Presenting me the rope
As if in grand ceremony
He shall awash me of pain
My body heaving for breath
Soon lay 6 feet under
Cold, damp dark soil
Surrounding me
Protecting me
As his dubious demands at first
Caused ripples of recoil
They snaked their way into my psyche
Feverishly adding oil
Aiding my descent
Into unknown charters of the deceased

Stuck at the dysfunction junction

Growing up, I always thought I had an incredibly dysfunctional family. And, by my own definition I did. I had a BFF in middle school and just loved her parents. The way they interacted with their children. The way they hugged them and gushed about how much my friend was loved. Their soft compassionate demeanor towards me. EVERTHING. I wanted to be their daughter.
My folks were distant, emotionally detached. Quick to punish and spank with anything handy…belt, wooden spoon, fly swatter. Sent off to my room to “think about what I did.” Never a follow up question regarding my thoughts. Never reassurance it was still okay, i was okay. Not much love floating in the airwaves. I was a shy awkward young girl who could use some guidance, but none was available. When I mustered up all my bravery and asked for some help, i was quickly shut down. Up went the wall!
My husband has helped me to break down the wall and communicate my feelings. Some days i can do this, some days i simply can’t. Either the words don’t come, i don’t know the words, or I’m afraid of the words I should be saying. Throw my therapist in the mix and we are working on it!
On his side of the family, big mean derogatory words can come barreling at you seemingly out of nowhere. Or you get the silent treatment. The in laws reside in Western NY, which you would think would be a blessing. It is, but it really isn’t. Distance can kill any kind of relationship, even if you work at it. When there is no consistent communication, the ship can go down in a hurry. My mother in law is the only tether to the sinking ship. We hang on, get bounced around and ejected over and over by his brother. But, his frail mother who sits slumped over in her wheelchair waits for my husband’s phone call twice per day.
Just in the last few days, she has been too weak to manipulate the cell phone. Too weak to eat and not terribly responsive. When you are 3000 miles away and the only link is an old flip phone its hard to know what’s happening. We find ourselves having to rely on the brother for information as he is power of attorney and the ungrateful boots on the ground in NY. The word “strained” keeps popping up in my mind to describe the relationship of these two men, but it really doesn’t do it justice.
Last year i stood my ground after i visited and had a subsequent hospitalization. I was out of work for 3 months. I am a highly sensitive being with bipolar I, some situations i just cannot handle. I delicately told my husband the environment was not good for me and my mental health. He agreed and declared I never have to go there again. Not realistic.
So here I am. mother in Law not doing well. Brother in law sparing with his medical information. Husband terrified if he doesn’t jump now he may never have a positive interaction with his mother again. what a freakin dilemma. How do i be of support to him and validate my own struggles with the family. Honor my own mental health. Be a doting wife full of empathy and love. How?

What the F** am I doing?

I am scouring my house clean. I am blasting music to keep my “morale” up. I am pretending to try to dance. Let go. Release. Stop fighting. Yet, at the very same time I want to lie on the floor and tantrum. Pound my hands. Kick. Scream. Release. But I don’t. My doctors words floating in my mind…I see you as high functioning, going to work just about each day.
Yes. Yes I do present my body at work a majority of the time. My mind. Well, it’s a crap shoot. Today, I lost my cool in the restroom with a supervisor. Not mine. Thank goodness..I guess. I cursed like a sailor, tears in my eyes declaring I am fed up. Who exactly am I fed up with? Me or my supervisor? Great question.
I walk myself backwards through the day. Where is my voice? Not in my supervisors office. Not in my doctors office. In the bathroom, off line. In this blog post. But, not where it needs to be. Not in the proverbial light of day.
What a painful revelation. What a godsend. What in the hell do I do now?