I guess it’s my 2 year anniversary w WordPress. But, I feel more like a failure than anything. I was a prolific writer, I suppose blogger, when I started. Letting it all hang out. Expression my therapy. Written words came easily. Cyber words somehow easier. Through psychosis, mania, suicide attempt, despair, fear, loss of relationships, darkness, depression..I carried on through this Medium.
Then. The most traumatic manic episode happened. My marriage was affected. Changed. Damaged.
My new job had to wait as I embarrassingly passed along a doctors note requesting a later start date.
Friendships fell off. Text messages went unanswered. Potential commitment dates fell through.
I fell back into booze and food.
Changes are hard. Personally. Seasonally. Globally.
I have lost my words. Days and months have gone by. I read your words. Yearn to connect. But, I don’t. Can’t. Won’t. I don’t know why.
I feel the darkness of depression coming for me, creeping in. My body, mind and soul heavy. The trudging becoming too much. Not worth it.
These aren’t even full sentences or thoughts.
Changes are impending.
I’m not. Scared.
Black and white thinking taking hold
And more so
That I don’t care
Its as if he knew
The caped Canaveral of darkness
Ushering in depression as
The leaves fall
Desperate trees swaying in limited light
Naked and vulnerable
My windows closing
Tighter and ever so tight
Air inside thinner and thinner
The walls become my unfocus
As I stare mindlessly
Nothing truly in my sight
The weight of existence
Pressing harder and harder
And sometimes exhaling in pain
I sit mostly motionless
Anticipating that old rusting chain
Pulling me down
Farther and farther
Into the unbalanced realm
Of the shameful insane
The rafters of my mind
As the microphone of thoughts
There is no everlasting
In these fits and starts
Today it’s too hard to navigate my marriage, my job, my cat, my house, my bills, and bipolar disorder. Thoughts flash: run! End it! Just cry it out! I start to plan all those things-pack a bag, grab all my medication & head to the bridge, snot all over myself. All this planning started from under the covers well past the time I was supposed to be at work. As I begged for continuous sleep far into the day, I found myself on the couch too soon. I have so many bottles of medication I haven’t taken. Kept promising myself I would turn them into my therapist or my psychiatrist, but secretly wanting the option for days like this.
My marriage is vulnerable right now. I’ve become too much. I no longer enhance this relationship. The words my husband is using today are sharp. Truth behind his pain. Pushed up against the wall he spouts them. Not to hurt me necessarily, but release himself. The burden that I am is heavy. He is strong. Maybe too strong for 18 years. He often tells me that I have no idea how all these episodes of depression, mania, suicide attempts, battles w the bottle affect him. Truly tear at him. Not only because it hurts to see a loved one in pain, but the insurmountable amount of powerlessness that follows for him. Sometimes feeling betrayed as I reach for the liquid courage instead of him. Sometimes confused why I fall into the dark abyss with no warning. Sometimes because emotions are simply too damn hard.
Its funny because on the inside I am proud of myself when I can be “normal” what I think of as a good wife. I wonder if he notices I’m doing well. I just keep on showing him, at least in my mind, how I’m trying to rise. But, its that day my smile isn’t as big. My silence is stronger. My demeanor changed that he notices. Yesterday he asked if I was feel down. At first I denied it and said I was just tired. After all we had a great start to the weekend. He asked me again a little while later and I decided to shake my head yes. His response reminds me how hard the roller coaster is from any seat. He said we will cancel plans for tomorrow because he doesn’t want to get me “started.” Tears. Instant tears. Started? Does this mean he truly doesn’t get me?
As the sun sparkled I went back to bed under the guise of a headache. Physical pain is easier to accept and has a cure in ibuprofen. I laid me down to sleep to escape. Escape disappointment. Escape depression. Escape having to perform.
The evening didn’t end so well. More truth hit the fan and sent daggers around the room. I yelled. He tried to ask me not to yell and I yelled more. Poor poor communication and coping skills. This is not the picture of a good wife. I excused myself back to bed at 7:45 pm hurt feelings in tow.
I think the trigger to all this is loneliness. I have no support system.i have no friends. More truth to pierce my soul. And where am I now? Alone on my couch in the middle of a Tuesday when I should be at work. It fills the room and I cannot breathe. But dammit I will not cancel those plans. Red eyed. Tired. Full of self hatred. I will smile and carry on.
I feel like I am a party of one dancing around the bigger party. I don’t know how to get in. Do I deserve to be in? Can I, we, lay the burden down?
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!
Feels like it all happened in slow motion. He was in the kitchen asking me a question about the day ahead. He says it was a simple question. I heard something entirely different. My body filled with heat and anger. I leaned forward on the couch and unloaded words of hatred. They shot across the room w venom. This is not who I am. I then rose to my feet and vile came spewing out of my mouth. This is not who I am. Shame surrounded me. I felt trapped. The only thing I knew to do was run. Out of control and desperate I fled the scene.
This emotional upheaval actually began the night before. My sponsor always told me we are as sick as our secrets. It’s not a new phenomenon that I withhold information. This time, I chose not to tell my husband I quit taking my meds. The funny part is, and this is the honest truth, I was cleaning the bathroom and declaring to myself I MUST tell him. I would absolutely find “the right time” this very weekend. I didn’t know the phone rang and I certainly didn’t know it was my psychiatrist calling at 6pm on a Friday night. Shit hit the fan fast.
She was in my ear saying how worried she was I am not taking any medication at all. He was in my sight worried I was receiving this phone call knowing something wasn’t right. I just wanted to yell at everyone to leave me alone. How very selfish of me to want people to not care about me. How very selfish of me to make an important decision about meds and not include my husband. It’s called keeping a secret. I need to get honest and real.
I am not a malicious person. My attempt to keep information secret was not meant to hurt him. Although, that’s exactly what it did.
Back against the wall I came clean. Stopped all meds cold turkey about a month ago. Ups and downs continue. Suicidal thoughts continue but I am making it through so far. I did not share that I had agonized all night about jumping off a bridge on my return home from my business trip. In my mind, no reason to take meds. If I die, I die. I am still selective in what I want to share.
Catching you back up..morning comes and we are both harboring feelings from last night. I yell and scream, grab my keys and bail. So many emotions fill my car..guilt, shame, fear, sadness. I drive around aimlessly for a while alone with my thoughts. Its time I take responsibility for this illness. For my one sided decisions. For my over reactions. The road laid ahead of me. My future in front of me. I know this much: this is not who I want to be. I drove until all those emotions no longer took up space.
I didn’t rush home to make amends, but I did eventually return. I’ll spare you all the details of what ensued upon my arrival home as it was not pretty. I am hopeful that it was productive. I shed many tears as I listened to how hurt he felt, how he wonders if at the root of all this disease is my unhappiness w him, how he worries everyday I am going to hurt myself. I was able to tell him I don’t know how to let him into my darkness. I told him I didn’t want him to know what I think, the places my mind goes.
After many minutes of intense silence, he said this is the most honest conversation we have had for months.
i think we have come to an unconscious don’t ask don’t tell mentality. We are both scared and dancing around each other. I do think I do much more dancing and juggling than he does.
There isn’t a lack of deep love between us. Darkness effects the family as a whole. While I’m in my pit trying hard to cover up my fall in an effort to “protect” him from me, all I’m doing is creating more space between us. That for sure is NOT productive.
I still have to figure out if medication is going to play a role in my recovery. What I learned today is that not including my husband in the equation is not an option. He wants to support me. But he simply can’t if I won’t let him. My task is to learn how to let him.
I feel so empty
Yet so full
Down by the river
I shed silent tears
No one understands
Please help me escape
This cumbersome pain
It’s not in solace
I find comfort
It’s not even in holding your hand
Depression whispers to me
Not worthy of spirit
Not worthy of love
Guilty of weakness
Creating wreckage in my wake
Quietly I slip away
As I’ve had all I can take
I can no longer hold this despair
I can no longer hold this fear
The whispers entice me and promise
It’s selfless to just disappear
The burden no longer heavy
My soul no longer lost
The battle no longer need waging
My tattered white flag barely waving
Please forgive me
As it’s best I don’t say goodbye
I love you dear one
Please try not to cry
Out the back door I slip
Consumed by the darkness
I have lost my grip
Its true I’ve let go
No will to keep on
Your fire is still bright
Mine has long grown tired
Keep warm dear one
Keep fighting the good fight
That moment you sit in group therapy with a bunch of strangers and admit you are hearing voices. You further admit there is a chanting of “join me in hell” “you are not welcome here anymore” that permeates the air you breathe. Nothing seems real, yet its all so overwhelming. The breaking point is near. I need to go to the hospital is lingering on my tongue. The badgering of ideas on ways to end my existence overfills the space between my ears. There are no more tears. Only tunnels. I feel like I’m crawling through a tunnel devoid of sound, touch, light. Is this what true darkness feels like. Perhaps just enough air, but not really. Its not easy, Peaceful breathing. Nor hard labored. My lungs aren’t expanding. New oxygen isn’t being received. Perhaps I am slowly suffocating. Makes sense. my world is so smal. yet my pain so big. And yet again..no big loss or tragedy has befallen me. Its my mere existence that causes the pain. My husband had the audacity to question my motives. Suggest maybe I am manipulating him. Holy fuck. To think I would righteously and purposely put my mental health in harms way to…to..what? Disrupt his life. If only he knew how much I feel relieving him of the stress&burden that is me plagues me everyday. One fatal shot. One tree. One belt. Bottle of pills.
The amount of IM SO SORRY that I carry is phenomenal. He loves me. God knows he does. I know he does. I wish it weren’t so and I need more love at the same time. Miss independent I walk around. I don’t need you or anyone else for that matter. Not true. So not true. I’m desperate for friends for connection. I just can’t seem to find it or maintain it.
As I admit the reality that I need the hospital. As I write these words. Hug someone close today. Tell that friend who struggles they matter. Important words everyone needs to hear.
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
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
I hear them laughing
It could be stories
Where once I felt
Could take part
So far removed
They carry on
I have been feeling this overwhelmingly painful sense of loneliness. Like the veil of darkness has wrapped itself around me so tight I cannot see the love or the light in my life. I don’t believe its actually there, but others tell me it is. Yesterday was a perfect metaphor for how I’m feeling. I was at a work event, more like a fair, when vendors have booths showcasing the accomplishments of their agency. As i walked around and saw comrarderie among people, laughing, touching, w genuine like for one another, it struck me I no longer have that. I’m the girl who gets asked to take the group photo. I’m on the outside capturing memories for others. I’m not in the memories, in the circle of laughter, in the circle at all. I am the lone aloof individual on the outside. So unsure of myself. I just feel unwelcome in this world right now. Its only getting darker.
Fallen into utter sadness
Deep searing pain
Reaches every part of me
Ravaging my insides
Damaging my soul
Perpetuating loss of self
A catastrophic heart ache
No echo of hope
Silence fills the room
While chaos fills my mind
The treasure of sunshine unseen
As I dig deeper into darkness
Chapters of my life
Written and unwritten
Suppressed and forgotten
Spill onto the floor
The truth of my demons revealed
No rhyme or reason
Why memories collide
Shame pulls the trigger
Salty water skims my eye
Shackled and alone
My threshold long surpassed
I simply desire to die