As I sit alone on another major holiday where my kids don't call me and most of my family has been cut away to save my own sanity I come to my greatest fear yet again. I don't fear dying, I fear dying while being pitied by medical staff because there is no one to come to see me at the end of my life. I will have a grand military funeral paid for by me for no one.
I know some people will be there, friends who live nearby but no one I have to share what's left of my life because I can't do that to someone. They shouldn't have to live through the darkened rage of my bipolar mind. I can't ask someone to love me when I can't feel and give love the way others do. I don't know what it feels like, what it looks like or how to truly give of myself without giving up on myself.
So I sit teary eyed, broken yet again awaiting my end, alone.
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