Bipolar & the threat of Cancer on two fronts

As I sit here on the Friday before Christmas I am awaiting big news that cannot come soon enough for me.  You see I have had Colon Polyps in the past and some were just shy of full blown Type A Cancer.  And on this past Wednesday I went to the Ann Arbor VAMC and was given an Upper/Lower Endoscopy where they took no less than 13 Biopsies from my Stomach & my Colon.

And now I sit here with no real information days before Christmas knowing that I will at some point be told at the very least I likely need surgery on my stomach for a hole that appears to be causing issues.  And I know they will want to redo my fundoplication (I'm sure I misspelled that word) for my severe acid reflux.

I would rather spend Christmas with knowledge of what's to come than sit here with nothing and no real opportunity before the holiday to be sure of what they want to do to/for me.  My Bipolar is on overdrive as I struggle to not worry myself to death over this thing that happened just days before Christmas.

Silent Night

Sometimes

Sometimes I think even the VA employees forget how screwed up I really am or what I've been through that makes me sometimes act that way.  Yesterday, yet again after I said something I hear the VA employees taking pot shots at me with me 3 feet from them.  The more I thought about it the more it irritated me but I can't do anything because it's one of the only groups I am still allowed to go to for various reasons.

If I blow that one up that means no more music therapy, no more singing and no more belting out like I cannot do at home.  I want to say something but how do you explain that I really can sense what others are thinking and it's not my BIPOLAR DELUSIONS telling me that?  How do I get them to understand that I often stay close to them when I feel insecure in public because often growing up my only protectors were female?

I did fairly well yesterday at the Christmas talent show but I'm struggling with the rest of it.  I don't socialize well and I know there are supportive things I was expected to return to others that I didn't do.  It's not my thing to lie to someone to make them feel better when they sing like they are strangling a cat and chase off the audience.

I'm drowning in emotions and fears everyday.  I'm not always able to push them back inside and they push me into overdrive, leaving me exhausted and wanting to sleep only I cannot sleep, I lay there upset and thinking about that crap and this run-on sentence.

The moral is that even people with severe Bipolar/Depression who live into their 50's still have bad days along with the good.  And often the bad days follow right behind the good one's it's part of my life and I am dealing with it as best I can.  So if you are younger and think you cannot survive with it, you can just look at my crazy butt....J

I think a lot of people often forget one important thing...

I was in the Prius on my way to Mickey D's at 0100 hours for something to fill my tummy and I began to think about something important at least to me... Most people around me often forget that this is the very first time in my entire life where I have only myself to depend including military time where someone was always there to watch over me.

I know it seem simple enough but when you aren't used to living on your own making decisions and your a Bipolar with major depressive states it can be very hard.  Luckily I don't struggle with finances that much anymore since I got my service-connection through the VA.  But there are decisions that I was always used to someone else telling me what to do, either a parent or spouse to make sure I wasn't going to far from safety.

And now I keep falling into deep depressions because I am completely alone, having to cut out most of my family with a few exceptions to protect myself from the way I was treated by those who allegedly loved me.  I probably need another round of ECT but I am not sure they will let me get another one with my other health issues that are going on at the moment from my liver, my kidneys and possibly my colon & esophagus ( the last two from issues in my 20's).

My therapist acts like she's about to dump my depressed butt because I know I don't seem to be trying anymore but I am.  I just can't keep doing things the way I have for so long and not run into issues at some point in my life.  Especially with the way things are currently going on.  

I'm not a leader, I a lost sheep in the herd

Many Manic-Depressives over the years have thought of me as some kind of leader because through it all I have lived somewhat of a life and survived attempts that would normally kill someone.  Don't please for the love of everything you hold don't follow my lead, I am nothing but a lost sheep in the herd.

I wander through life letting others ego's and what-not push me aside as I fight the urge to let the beast out of his cage, to unleash him as one of my exes used to say.  Because when I let him out of his cage bad things happen even to people who are just trying to be there for me.  Even occasionally I hurt myself along the way and when I put him back in his cage, I try so hard to take it out on myself.

In the meantime like so many others, I take it out on myself all of it past & present with little to no exceptions.  And when the nights come when I can't do anything but dream and I spend the night with someone who used to love me I wake up with a rage most could not understand or live with.  And  of course that is part of why I am no longer married because often it was taken out on the nearest source of emotional support.

So whatever you think of me don't follow me, think of me as some kind of representative of what it is like to live with it.  No, I wasn't supposed to live this long according to doctors and yes, I am still here.  That makes me nothing more than someone who has ruined supportive relationships, chased away friends and providers alike that cared for me.  And now, I am all alone inside my mind is a daily struggle to care about anything as the rest of my body's ailing finally catch up with my high-strung manic mind working towards the end of my life that in my opinion cannot come soon enough. 

Before my beast takes away the last few vestiges of support and places to feel safe outside of my home.  Inside he is tearing at my flesh, eating away at what is left of my soul and begging me to join so many others who have gone before me.  Because when under even perceived stress my mind both races and changes mood course so many times in a day it wears me out leaving me to sleep where the dreams tear at me once more.

Lead your own course, don't follow me please for your sake not mine.

A gift really?

Over the last few years when I have told people that in my mid 20's doctors told me I wouldn't likely live past 40 they keep telling me it's a gift.  Really that's funny because a gift if I don't like I it or it doesn't fit quite right I can take it back or give it away.  This is non-returnable after all I am a Manic-Depressive alcoholic who can't drink to make myself sleep days away and have way too much time on my hands alone.

Funny word alone, because even when I am in a room full of supportive people I feel alone.  Because my entire life I have had to depend on myself to stay safe because my boundary and trust issues couldn't be counted on.  Only to have failed me again and again until well...you know either I attempt to harm myself by death or burning.  Neither really ever made me feel better or guilty just hurt and ashamed.

Many people have come and gone from my life over the years most of them left on unfriendly terms because after all by definition a narcissist is an asshole.  Thus as I am a clear narcissist, I am an asshole who pushes people away as I grow older it becomes easier than ever.  I live in a world where I have to hide the real me though I am quite certain most people can see it but because I pretend to hide it they pretend to not see it.

I don't think most people would ever understand that those negative comments about myself hide a deep seeded self-hatred from childhood.  That over the years has only been strengthened by the way others have left my life.  I drain them of their valuable support till they like victims of a vampire bite, they waste away to an emotional death leaving me in their wake.

I am of late facing a fact that as I grow both older and in poorer health that I will be dying alone.  I can't have a "relationship" because even I don't know who or what I want anymore.  After several failed one's all I learned was that my life became theirs and as our relationship failed so did my life.  And how can anyone love me when I can't even love myself?

It's amazing how some people can't understand how easily I can be triggered if emotionally I am worn down.  How one damn TV show can rip a hole in my positive momentum and drag me back into the abyss without much effort.  How I can't keep a better attitude when I walk outside my home and the way people look at me only strengthens that self-image no matter what I do.  

I see an animal as well only the animal I see doesn't want to harm you.  He wants to tear my throat out and watch me die on the pavement as the blood leaves my ugly, deformed body.  I don't have necessarily deformities you can see but I can't miss them each time someone looks at me as if I might harm them if they get to close to me.  It's not as if I was blind I couldn't tell they feel that way my body doesn't miss that energy coming from others ever.  

Which is probably why I am so tired lately because I have been taking it on more and more and want to crawl inside myself waiting for my life to end.  There isn't enough time in a mental ward to vanquish this pain from my mind and certainly there isn't enough drugs to make it go away...

So what the hell do I do with this gift since I cannot give it back?

I'm one of those unlucky people who didn't stay in touch with friends from college

The reasons are simple enough, I tried to kill myself back then several times as well as, tried to drink myself to death.  After one attempt several of them got me in a room and talked to me.  One in particular was very hard for me, her name was Donna.

Donna with the exception of my girlfriend at the time was my best friend though we didn't spend a lot of time together.  When we were around one another we were nearly inseparable we had that many laughs together.  I remember having a bit of a crush on her as she was a real stunner though very married and I had was in love myself or at least I thought I was.

One evening after the attempt I was put in a room with Donna and we were left alone to talk about what had happened.  By the end of this conversation I was asked to promise something I begged her to not ask me to make.  At the time my self hate was on overdrive despite all the good things going on in my life away from my destructive family.

About a year later, I broke that promise winding up locked away in a mental hospital upon my return I went back to my night class.  By then she was already ignoring me as I recall wouldn't even make eye contact.  But she wasn't the only one many people in the heart of the bible belt were understanding enough before the attempts but when I went through with it that all ended.

Including my relationship at the time because her parents didn't want her near me.  I can't blame them but honestly your her parents and wondering why I didn't come to you?  How about your her parents and my explanation would have been a laundry list of reasons my Manic-Depressive brain was throwing at me at that time.  I had even been sober for a few months before that time.

Keep in mind that my memory isn't what it once was after ECT but there was one thing I won't ever forget.  Those people who when my own family was dragging me down for what I seemed incapable of doing they were supportive and caring for me.  I let them and myself down by listening to all the negative stuff till I couldn't take it anymore pain.

It was a pain that I cannot describe to you.  I hurt from the Army no longer caring for me. I hurt from thoughts that my gf and my male bf were together behind my back (wasn't true).  I hurt from trying so hard and seemingly getting nowhere.  The mood swings and no meds were wearing me down in a hurry.

One shrink at that time returned me to the drug & alcohol rehab center stating there wasn't anything mentally wrong with me despite my clear description of my symptoms I could recognize well enough through magazine searches & what there was of online searches as this was the early 1990's after all.

But this isn't about him, it's about Donna really because last night she visited me in my dreams.  And I was happy to see her but by morning I had once again broken my promise and poof she was gone again.  And I won't likely ever see her again before I pass on.  And with my health issues bearing down on my mental health issues hopefully I won't be suffering long because it hurts more knowing I broke her heart than does the fact I know one soon enough I won't be here anymore.

Hate, the mirror and my world imploding?

The other night I saw a special on Robin Williams and of course it was late in the evening.  Let's just say it set me off subconsciously and now here I am wide awake a few nights later wishing I could sleep, but I can't.

I also can't see my therapist for a few more weeks as that person took a well deserved vacation but it has left me with a void and I kind of saw it coming.  And now what the hell do I do.  Because as with my idol Robin Williams, I am bipolar, don't do well when I am all alone and when I look in the mirror lately I hate myself again.

I'm losing all the ground I have gained over the last few years or at least it feels that way.  Because of my emotional safety issues I am literally all alone, oh don't get me wrong I have a few people I grew up around but I cannot burden them with my pain.  Because as past experience has taught me all that does is push them away faster.

Or the inevitable happens, they make me promise something I cannot guarantee I won't break ever again.  Because like Robin there may come a point in my life where my world isn't what it once was and when that day comes I might finally succumb to my need for peace or at the very least peace in my mind.

They want a world where I live to a ripe old age but for me that means more mental pain and anguish.  More being treated like I am a lot younger than I actually am and most people cannot understand what that feels like for me.  Although I know from past experience often times its more about my perceptions of reality than the reality.

And I bear so much pain that most people could never every understand how much it hurts to see someone else in pain or rather to feel their emotional pain.  I don't often even know what it is but I know something is eating at them and now it's eating at me.  And with each new pain I take on just a little more of me is gone.

People everyday try to tell me that both is a gift. As in my living well past what doctors thought I would live to age-wise.  And my ability to feel what others are feeling emotionally even at times being able to tell when they are lying to me.  No one can understand how much that can hurt when those who are lying to me are those telling me they love me.

I am carrying a weight on my soul, my being that is so heavy that I want to tear my eyes out, drink myself to death, wish for my health to finally fulfill the doctors prophecy that I won't grow to be an old man.   Even going so far as to ignore doctors recommendations for diet, meds, etc...

I know some people out there can understand bits & pieces of what I am feeling but I am likely never going to meet someone else like me who can help me bear the weight in my lifetime and for that I am saddened.

Am I what they thought I am?

Lately, I have been contemplating whether some people were right in the first place, I am a big ole pile of steaming...you get the idea.  It's just the way things are going, I am able to pay my bills but there just feels like something is missing in my life.  Maybe it's just a life itself.

After all, I have never really felt like I belonged anywhere past a certain age because once the doting adults saw me as an older child I was no longer that "Cute little kid."  I became something of a lesser being in many people's eyes, the same people who used to ooh and aah over me.  

As I got older I felt less and less of a connection and am fully aware that I often stare blankly at people but I don't know why I do it.  I do know it unnerves some, irritates the hell out of others.

I don't do any of it for that reason at least not anymore there is no point is there?  I learned long ago to hide most of who I really am and maybe after all these years its' why I hate myself so much.  No one should have to hide for fear of retribution, humiliation or abuse.

I know what you might be thinking, "who gives a shit anyway what others might think of me?"  Well if you ever have felt like you don't belong and need acceptance you'd understand otherwise like most you'd just give me that advice and move on...I can't do that.

 

One of those days

In the last few days I have been dealing with a serious backslide and I have NOT tried to fight it off.  The main reason was when Ms. Grimmie was just getting started, her and I had interacted because of my Music Blog and performance history.  Now I am not the reason she is dead but it hurts someone like me just as hard as if I was.

I look in the mirror and I cannot understand how I have spent over 20 years wishing I wasn't breathing almost everyday while she was not only getting started but wanted to live and she's gone.  How am I supposed to understand why if there is a God he left me here and took her away?  How am I supposed to not let it eat at me that I could easily connect my sharing of her work with any possibility of her death?

And how do I not take it out on myself for months if not years going forward?  I just don't know, I just don't f'ing know.  I want to get drunk, I want to forget, I want to burn my skin and yes at moments when I draw a breath, I want to die.  I would easily take her place if I could so she could enjoy what is left of her life that is taken away but I can't.

I know this isn't about me and yet somehow I am so narcissisticly needing to blame myself because it hurts as much as when my idol took his life.  My tears feel like I am bleeding, my voice doesn't want to sing ever again.  I want to quiet my mind and my motorcycle aka "Scooter" is out of commission until I get the parts I need...So here I sit, in pain, in tears and wishing I could shut it all down.

My second Dad even called me today and I am quite sure there was another reason than his heart ailments of late.  He mentioned the mass shooting in Orlando and I hadn't known about it yet for whatever reason.  I wish I  had never heard about it... My soul is weeping, begging me for relief from the pain and I can't do it.  I can't take my life.

Reasons I haven't written in a while

Honestly I haven't had much to say or express so I have not been writing obviously despite my belief that someone might actually care what I say.  I know there is younger suicide survivors who might be in need of positive support and when I'm not in that mood I just can't.  When I am not writing it is best to think that despite being a Suicide attempt survivor I am out enjoying my life, because that is what I am likely doing.

I have bought a different Motorcycle/Scooter earlier this year and since I have gotten my motorcycle operator permit for my state and have been able to ride.  I have to say it's not for everyone but for me I get off that bike and my head feels so clear and quiet if only for a few hours...it's like being a Bipolar Heaven...

If you are struggling, keep in mind at your age that there is someone out there that managed to live as long as I  have with thoughts of suicide riding my back too.  I am turning 49 this summer so if you think in your twenties you can't make it through the tough times of the dark thoughts, think again.

Keep your head up, your ability to fight through it shows you have inner strength you may not even be aware of.  A mistake is not the end of the world for you it is merely a mistake no matter how hard it feels like a reason to attempt again. 

Some days

Some days when I wake up my heart aches and I feel a pain I cannot explain as it isn't physical in nature but rather is emotional pain.  It tears at my soul trying to stop my heart from beating anymore.  I can only hope that one day when I am older not near 50 like I am now but in my true elder years it will stop hurting so much.

You see there is a spot in me that feels others pain not just my own and when they are hurting it burns deep into me like nothing I have ever felt before.  From a young boy it seemed I couldn't escape that feeling that others pain was mine to bare whether I liked it or not.  As I grew I watched those I loved who were a lot older suffer and pass on eventually and it left an indelible mark on me. 

And now that I'm older I feel my time coming for that pain with a hope that when that time comes, I will no longer bare others as well because it may just be too much for my body to handle.  Since I have had health issues most of my adult life that most people don't feel or see until they are in the late to middle 40's I had in my mid 20's.

To watch friends and family being hurt emotionally for me over the years has left me scarred and bruised inside.  I know it's a perception but as I have said, for me since I was a little boy, it seemed my job to take their pain on.  From when my parents fought and I was alone with one or the other they used my quiet nature to air their grievances about one another.  To my Grandma's pain reminding them about how I look like my Grandfather's at least in their eyes, one passed the year I was born and the other the next year.

I just always imagined how much it must pain them to keep seeing me around but at least one of them as I got older didn't seem to dislike me for it.  She went out of her way to make me feel loved and cared for when most treated me badly.  I could always feel their pain but couldn't seem to take enough of it to ease the loss of their loved one I never really knew.

Why do I feel it still you might ask me if you could, I just cannot explain it.  But as people poured their private fears upon me as my quiet shy nature seemed to beg them to let it out I was too quiet to ask them to stop.  From childhood through the Army, college and even now at times some take it as a sign to let it out.  And sometimes when I get them alone I feel impelled to ask because I can just sense something not right about them, I can't help myself.

Some people call it a gift but if they had to deal with all that pain people try to hide inside from others they might just understand that this gift isn't a good thing when you can't take it on and then let it go.  I take it inside trying to release them from their pain so they can go on with their life as I slowly die inside.  And the number of times I seem to have cheated death in my real life begs the question of whatever God their might be...Is this what I am meant to do?  Is there more I can do before I die?  Are my words of poetry enough to keep someone else from hurting themselves?  Do I have to sacrifice my entire soul before I leave this world?

I needed to be around the Music

Yesterday, I went to Music Therapy even though I had sworn I wouldn't go as long as that guy was there but at least he didn't get what he wanted from me.  I sang when I wanted and only long enough to help another Veteran get the feel of the song then I stopped.

What he said is unforgivable when he failed to really apologize for what he said and I hate myself still for letting him get to me but having grown up around a "Green Beret" from the Vietnam era I couldn't let it go and still cannot.  But the need to be near the music and get it out is so strong once the door was opened I knew I wouldn't be able to close it again, not that I really want to anyway.

The one thing in this world that could have kept me sane for twenty years I gave up for everyone else around me for the most part, I certainly wasn't performing on-stage anymore.  But I need that rush, that sensation is calling to me with such a demand it hurts me deep inside to hold it back.  I guess that 's why any chance over the years I have had to sing for girlfriends or my kids when they were babies was taken advantage of.

Please don't let anyone stifle your creative need as long as your creative need doesn't hurt someone else, let it go.

I let someone take something from me and I hate myself

It's Thursday morning and I am already regretting thinking about going back to music therapy.  Because Tuesday afternoon at therapy I let another Veteran take something from me and I hate myself for letting it happen.  Just because he didn't want to do a song for our next show on the 29th.

We wanted to the "Ballad of the Green Berets" and he being a Marine didn't want to.  So he was mocking the lyrics and I let something he did get to me.  Despite everything I am, everything I believe in and everything I want to become it ate at me.

My second "Dad" was a Green Beret and to do anything that tarnished what he had been through in Vietnam wasn't going to sit well with me.  That man had put himself between me and harms way when I was 13 without a second thought.  

To this day I can go to him when I'm hurting and need to get it out without judgement though I can feel the fear in him that one day he will get a call, the call, the one that say's I took my life.  And it hurts.

And then this guy, this Marine did something to disrespectful all because he didn't want to do the song.  And who do I blame? Me.  Always me.

It reminds me how much I can't keep a promise that I will never attempt again, or that I will always come to him when I'm hurting inside.  How do I go to him with this one?  How do I say to him, "this guy made fun of what you are and I did nothing."?

How do I look him in the eye after he protected me without a thought and I did nothing to honor his courage, his efforts, his Green Beret?

I SANG LIVE YESTERDAY AND IT ROCKED!

Yesterday I did the Department of Veterans Affairs Talent Show for my entries into the National Creative Arts Festival for Veterans obviously.  I haven't sang in front of a live audience with a band or choir in over 20 years now.  I was a nervous wreck but once I got on stage thankfully my overly-sensitive body was gaining strength from the guys that were with me that weren't nervous and I settled down pretty well.

We rocked some Lynnrd Skynnrd, I sang a Garth Brooks song that I've been singing since I first heard it and after the show was over I got to jam with some truly talented musicians who were both supportive and helpful.  It wasn't like back in the day when my own family might show up but then make fun of whatever I was doing.  It felt so good to get some of my old life back from before the Bipolar took hold and I gave into pressure to stop doing what I wanted to do.  Doing instead what everyone else said I should because I was so weak from the Tornado kicking my butt all the time.

And today I got in a ride on my new 150cc Scooter, my head is so clear right now I'm not blowing like the wind is outside my front door of MY Home.

If you know someone who is in their twenties and suffering from a mental illness feel free to use me as an example because despite all the medical & mental setbacks with a little help from the Dept. Of Veteran Affairs finally I'm doing it all on my own.  I have a car, my own home and I'm not behind on my bills to this date.  I was not expected to see 40 years of age with my health/mental health issues this year I turn 49!

I've been on welfare, I've been locked up in a locked ward for 30 days, I've lived in adult foster care before I know how hard it is to hold your head when it's one reason or another you feel like giving up.  Hell, last week I was there again due to the stress over the live show.  And I'm still here breathing, talking and trying very hard to let go of the guilt and shame to live my life.

Not a positive life but a life.  Because as they often remind me there is no perfect life, you make the best of it you can trying everyday to find something be grateful for, something to strive for, something to love when you look in the mirror.

A mistake is not an end of your world, it's just a mistake.

Manic, depressed and a day I hope won't come

Here I sit on Saturday night nearly Sunday already and I am manic and depressed already about Thursday the 18th.  As we get closer I am so obviously reminded why I stop wanting to go on-stage before an audience.  My mind is on overdrive and I want desperately to make it all stop.

But weeks ago when I failed to get through to the other guys that I didn’t want to do this for the talent show.  It was yet another failure to stand up successfully for myself and not do something I would rather not do for someone else.  What I want for them is NOT what I necessarily what I want for me.  But that no longer seems to matter.

And last Thursday it became apparent to me that I wasn’t prepared for this part of being completely on my own.  No one can give me the support I had way back in the day anymore and I can’t seem to find it in myself enough to keep myself focused and out of trouble.  I have already alienated the two women who run the music therapy and I’m afraid I won’t be able to even go much longer due to that.  If only I could explain that I am not doing it on purpose, I just can’t seem to stop the automatic response to stress i.e. my over need for attention and support.

I have not had a normal life by any stretch of the imagination and don’t want to be laughed at when I get up on stage because not everyone will be able to look past my appearance and odd behavior to hear what I sound like.  I won't be able to achieve the respect the other guys will get and I already know that before the day comes.  Because at times I’m not even getting it from them when I start acting out.  Again, I am not doing it on purpose but the stress brings it out of me in ways I can’t seem to fight off.

And so here I sit on my bed, wide awake, dope sleep ( from my sleep meds) and wishing when and if I get to sleep I don’t wake up.  So I can put everyone else out of my misery knowing full well that no matter what I do it won’t likely happen for me (not to me).

Emotional turmoil

Right now at this very moment I am regretting ever agreeing to sing with the guys for the talent show on the 18th because I was not prepared for how I was going to feel without someone behind the scenes to support me emotionally.  A lot of people can say encouraging words to me but there was something to having a significant other back in the day when I performed last that kept my head on straight.

And at this moment my mind is anything but straight, it's winding itself into a begging for God to take me home yet again.  Because when I get to this point I become an emotional vampire begging and needing attention I don't deserve because I'm supposed to be able to do this on my own by now and I can't.  I have not had time to prepare for this part of my life coming back to me and I don't know how to be the emotional support I need.

I'm not used to being there for me, I'm used to me crawling inside and begging for death rather than put myself out there anymore.  Because out there I am vulnerable and open myself up to things I never could deal with, criticism, support and people trying to emotionally connect with me which I never could do no matter how hard I have tried in the past it just feels hollow to me, empty as the glass once you've drank from it.

No amount of positive reinforcement can make me shake the feeling I'm about to humiliate and degrade myself for other amusement and retribution.  I have always been told I wasn't worthy, that what I do is meaningless and unimportant in the grand scheme of life and that was by people who were supposed to love me unconditionally and didn't.  And now I try to soak it up like a sponge and people cannot understand that at nearly 50 years of age I have with the exception of the last few years been my only support for everything emotional and with Bipolar, Depression & PTSD I don't know what is the right thing to do for me.

Putting myself out there leaves me feeling tortured and scarred and wishing I was no longer here.  I know that's not right but I can't seem to help myself, it's a safety zone that is so familiar and safe.  Unlike putting myself out there for others to hear and possibly ridicule, I just don't know how to feel anymore.  My tornado is flowing at 195 and my mind is taking me to depths of fear I don't like feeling but can't fight off anymore.

Some wounds just won't close

Some days wounds are opened that I cannot seem to bear but my mind keeps pushing forward because what else would I do?  For decades my mind has been a driving force no matter what to not quit even when I wake up to another failed attempt at suicide.  I always had it but a drill sergeant I had told me one time to “never quit on him again.”  So I haven’t at least not entirely.

And sometimes I see an old friend who is my Dad’s age, a Vietnam Vet whom I know for a fact would put himself between me and harm no questions asked.  But when I see him the floodgates open and it all comes pouring out because he’s been through some of it and has NEVER judged me for anything I’ve said to him including suicidal hate.  He would try to talk me down but he never, ever judged me or turned his back on me.

He knows I need to get it out and for me sometimes that’s enough to keep trying to let it go and other days it reminds me of one thing.  How many times I have cheated death in my lifetime while others who were mentally stronger than me and living a more positive life had their lives taken from them.  It brings up an unbearable guilt the likes of which I find hard to put into words despite my being able to talk about my illness freely often at the detriment of friendships that had barely even gotten started.

If there ever was a purpose for me to be still kicking past an age when doctors were sure I would likely never see.  In my twenties given my mental issues and pressing other medical issues they didn’t think I would live past age 40.  I can hold my head up at times and say “I am turning 49 this year.”  But that brings up my baby face that makes me look 18 to 20 years younger than I am and thus doesn’t bring with it the respect for having lived this long even among some VA employees I know.  I know I don’t socialize well but after years of taking abuse because of the way I look or act, I have earned that right, of that I am quite certain.


To turn 50 soon and not look my age is not all it’s cracked up to be no matter who you are trust me.  I want to be treated with some respect and knowledge that I have lived through a pain that has killed lesser beings either by their own hand or at the hand of someone who thought less of them simply because they didn’t act “normal.”    What I wouldn’t give to have just one day of my life seem normal but I guess that’s just the way it’s going to be.  But when people see you as a quiet, good listener you can get issues dumped on you that you may not be prepared for.

And in my case I often can’t let go of their pain as my sensitivities take all that on and cause me to act erratically making painful, costly mistakes.  In social situations, in financial situations, relationships practically everything.  I mean what would you do at 46 and for the first time you are having to be completely dependent on yourself without a parent/spouse telling you what you can or cannot do.  That’s how messed up I was, I often was unable to decide for myself for example, when I bought my second house in my lifetime I had to fix/replace appliances and furniture on my own.  I didn’t know how to do that.

I didn’t know how to always make sound judgments not jump in headfirst spending money I likely shouldn’t have on items I really didn’t need but had always wanted.  And that includes a motorcycle that didn’t fit me and the dealership really wasn’t looking out for me but I lived and learned on that one. 

Yesterday however I was reminded that I need to do my will and it has churned up a firestorm inside of me because despite my fight to keep going, I am inching closer to my mortal ends one day.  I have paid for my funeral but have stayed steadfast on my not wanting to make a will to ensure that people take care of my personal affects the way I want it done.  It’s hard enough thinking that the day when the preacher stands at my gravesite at Fort Custer National Cemetery
under the tent talking over my ashes (Lamentations) he will likely be alone except for the honor guard. 

I will either outlive the remainder of my friends or I will have alienated them so much that they don’t show up.  I will likely go out exactly as I had predicted decades before I will die alone and be buried alone.   I can’t keep family around me who were making me feel like a lesser being for whatever reason because that is too hard to deal with anymore. 

So here I sit wide awake early Sunday morning tearing up yet again because the grief, the pain of losses and the inevitable demise alone is tearing at my soul once more.

My lessons of life, regret and music

Yesterday for the first time in what often feels like a lifetime ago my vocal pipes were brought out of mothballs and let loose.  And as always I was thrilled at the time but invariably by the next day I am living with a pain in my soul.  The kind that can be hard to describe but maybe I can at the very least explain why it hurts so much.

When I graduated high school I had been singing in choirs/show choirs since I was 6 or 7 and singing in general since I was first able to talk.  I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame you could say because just about everywhere I went whether alone or not I was at the very least humming away often to the dismay of friends & relatives.  So when I graduated naturally I wanted to pursue a career in music but at the time the only way I could think of satisfying this desire was to attend college and so on.

I had one draw back in that, I was unable to sight read sheet music at the time and to be honest I can follow along pretty well but still can’t really read it and voice what I see.  So I struggled to attain a degree in Music as I had hoped.  Eventually giving up and going for a business degree that everyone thinks is going to lead to some major exec job somewhere but that didn’t happen either.

Because all along the way I lived with serious regret and my suicidal hate was a driving force back then particularly after I got out of the Army the way that I did.  Oh and that was BEFORE college since I joined almost a year after graduating high school to pay for college in the first place.  Which is where my suicidal hate began when the Army who takes care of their own except those with mental disorders in a time of peace especially because they can’t afford to keep someone with any weakness around.

I am babbling on as usual but my goal here is for you to share this one thing I’ve learned out of my lifetime, don’t give up on your dreams even if you have to modify them to meet your job needs, family needs, etc... 

Because even if you only sing once a week in a church choir it is still letting you be you and holding back something inside of you that may mean all the difference in the world when it comes to mental health of anyone, not just those with Bipolar or Depression.  Giving up a part of your soul can be devastating to your mental well being believe me I know exactly what I'm talking about.  After I got my business degree I pretty much gave up singing anymore as I was struggling to keep me from attempting to kill myself, satisfying a spouse's needs or working to put food on the table for a wife and kids. 

It's not easy I know but it can be worth it if you do it your whole life in some capacity not try to hide or diminish it to please others.  Being the real you is important at an early age not just when you've reached the end of your life and realize all the regrets you have over what you could have done with your life.

Be happy you've earned it just by being here.

I was so close to getting some answers from you Robin...........

It was 0520 and I was moving along in my dream with no pain, no tears that is until I saw you.  You were there shaking hands and we made eye contact, I was within moments of talking to you getting the answers I wasn’t able to get while you were alive and kicking.  Then I woke up, I had to pee yet again, and when I got back into bed I was in tears...Because I couldn’t get back to sleep.

I keep seeing you on TV but it’s not the same as when I see you in my dreams.  Where I get to talk to you, share my thoughts and fears.  Where we can sit down have a drink and feel comfort from your company.  Because as my Idol I never met, I live in the pain of knowing, we never met.

I had so much to ask you, so much to learn from you about how to harness the pain, the manic powers for good.  How to keep some semblance of a positive relationship without imploding it each time I open my mouth.  I to live a moderately happy life when I know in my heart my pain is so unbearable at times I don’t care if I don’t wake up. 

But today I cared because for a moment I was so close to talk to you... I know no one else may ever understand how it hurts so badly, so deeply except maybe you...you who struggled with the same pain and made others laugh at a moments notice, hiding your pain deep inside.

Advice to self

I wanted to give you some advice from your past that I know in your weakest moments you won’t be likely to remember...

You are worth more than those you love even though it can hurt so deeply when you feel they no longer love you.

You didn’t make a major error, it was just a faulted and those can be picked up, dusted off and keep going.  Don’t let it bury you deep, keep moving forward.

You are not what people make you out to be, you can be so, so much more, if only you’d believe it.  Even in your darkest hours of depression and despair.

You attempted in the past and you grew from it don’t let others get you down when they judge you for your mistakes.  You are still here and that’s what really matters, ignore those who can’t or won’t see that for what it is.

You made it this far, just a little further.  One day at a time.

You don’t have to let your perceptions clarify each and every event in your life.  Sometimes it is what it seems and not what you perceive it to be.

You don’t need someone else to keep you going.  Remember you got this far pretty much on your own.  You had help but you did the hard work yourself.

You made it this far and no matter what anyone say’s or does, inside you there is some self love left.

You don’t need to let others get  you down all the time.  You are what matters in your world, let them have their opinion because that is all it is, an opinion.

You don’t need others to validate you all the time.  Self validation is important too.

You keep smiling and as always remember to breathe.

Intimacy

Keeping in mind I have no idea what love actually feels like as I grew up in a house with a dysfunctional family for the most part after all the last time I felt any intimacy of signs of love from my father was the day he pulled me from a river a mile from the falls when I was five.  After that it seemed that every mistake was on purpose whether it cost him money or not.

But I am missing one part of love that most people get to take for granted, intimacy.  The moment when you are holding someone close feeling their body showing love from their soul not just their word from their mouth.  Those moments when the passion is so hard that you forget you aren't one person entwined with one another feeling, touching, lusting, etc...

It has been years since I felt that closeness and I am reminded that it can be hard for someone else to love you when you don't love yourself.  I'm so socially inept and awkward these days it can be hard to even know where to attempt to start.  I spend a great deal of my time dreaming about it since I have not a whole lot to do most days.  I finally got the chance to not have to try to work but it leaves me with so much time that at times it can be hard to bare.