Fear and my own demise

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.

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'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.

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.

 

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.

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.

Like Dexter, I have to let go of others...

I might be late to the Party but as I finish up the Series Dexter on Showtime I was reminded of why I am better off being alone.  Though I am not a serial killer I do seem to destroy others lives who come in contact with me, my family, my kids, I mean my unadultlike behavior could easily by me be argued to have been part of the reason my father died of a bad heart.

For a great part of my adult life my world revolved around how much my parents were able to keep me out of trouble both financially and mentally.  Time after time, I was likely living in my car, hopping between friends homes or falling apart because of this or that.  Each time my parents insisted on taking me back in mostly to save their reputation as my father couldn’t stand having others find out I was living in my car.

All I can think about right now is how I destroyed his retirement, my kids lives and the long list of people with whom I have made them either fear me or hate me.  Until I finally got help from the VA to get on my feet I was dependent and so childlike that I feared even thinking about being alone and caring for myself.  And with a parent who treated me like I was still a child who needed to stay in the house in the summer supposedly to make it easier for them to watch while they were ill I was never supposed to grow up until my Dad passed away and they needed someone to take his place doing everything that parent didn’t want to do for themselves.

I don’t like being alone but I have gotten used to it because each and every time I opened up and let someone inside my emotional walls, I become like a emotional vampire sucking them dry.  I know I can’t keep doing it but when you live on a rollercoaster inside a small room with a tornado in it, you do what you can to keep going.  And that’s entirely the reason I am alone, so I don’t hurt those who want to care for and/or love me.

I awoke to an anger and realization...

That is now stuck in my craw, yesterday I was in a pretty good mood for a person who often goes through various mood shifts in just a few hours depending on the environment, etc...

Yesterday for instance I waited around the VAMC when Music Therapy wasn 't a go for two hours because I thought I had an appointment with my Therapist.  When I went to sign in, I found out it was actually for Wednesday and not in fact Tuesday.  I laughed all the way to the car.

After I awoke this morning I was on the toilet talking to myself (this is my normal) pissed off because my kids hate me, I had to cut most of my dysfunctional family out of my life for my own mental well being and I am going to die alone.  I know it won't be this week as I am NOT planning anything so please don't call the Police on me, I just know someday when it's my time....I will be alone.

I however, would rather be alone than surrounded by people who didn't treat me the way I thought I deserved, not the way they wanted me to think I earned by being me or being born.  The hostility that this brought about in me after the thought is gut-wrenchingly disturbing and heartbreaking at the same time. 

My ex, the mother of my kids works with people like me for a living and I assume because she is advancing there from what I can tell as some compassion for them, just not for me.  I know she told a Church Magazine that she thought I was her "soulmate" and honestly the feeling was reasonably mutual till she decided to put what her Mom wanted us to do in front of what I wanted to do.  And now she hates me (rightly so I guess).

She likely wouldn't even cry over my death rather, she would be standing there wanting to know what our kids were entitled to instead.  How do I leave something to someone who only wanted what they could get from me that was worth anything beyond the fact that I would have gladly sacrificed my life to save theirs, in other words, my LOVE.  I have them on my life insurance policy after I have paid whatever isn't prepaid for my funeral (Paid for that when I got my service-connection like I had planned on doing for years while waiting for it.)

I just really want to know why I give my love so freely when I let someone inside my walls only to in the end be rebuffed by them no matter how hard I try to get them to see I was doing the best I could all things considered.  I spent so many years hating myself for failing in the Army mentally (Proven to not be my fault), for not being there when my friends died when had I been mentally stronger I would have been and for everytime I looked in the mirror, hating the man or boy I was looking at...

Heartbroken Dream

And sometimes the mental health staff wonder why I don't want to sleep for weeks on end, could it be the bad dreams that are so vivid that when I wake up, I'm in tears?  And I am forced to relive it over and over again all night long or stay awake risking a serious relapse.  I'd rather take another physical abuse beating at the hand of my older brother than to relive last night's dream once more.

She was beautiful, in love with someone else despite our growing closer together as we hung out together.  Only a common theme in my real life and partly why I refuse to try to date again beyond my issues I don't want to put someone through again.  They get attached, I get attached and then one way or another the very thing that drew them to me, pushes them away once more.

It's days like this where I wake up in tears that remind me of that very thing and of something else, I am grateful that I am one year closer to the end of my life.  Because sooner than later at this point something will finally give me relief from the vivid dreams that make me afraid to go to sleep.

Someone once reminded me...

A therapist once reminded me after I felt like I failed at attempting something while inpatient at my local VAMC for treatment that just because I faltered didn't mean I had actually failed like I was thinking.  Because at the time I was like many who believe that every misstep is a complete failure because we have no gray in between our black & white vision.

I know what it feels like to be making really positive strides in your life only to feel that misstep as a complete and utter falling down of sorts.  The emotional turmoil it can cause can feel totally overwhelming and devastating at times but it is what it is, only a misstep and not the actual end of the world.

Often people who are bipolar and some other mental health survivors take every falter as the end of the world.  Keep going and work through it no matter what your mind is telling you because if someone like me who suffers from PTSD/Bipolar/Borderline Personality Disorder/Major Clinical Depression and achieve two college degrees, nearly a bachelor degree as well.  I was also in 20+ years of suffering able to survive a cancer scare that did put me into a down spiral but guess what despite my own father in law firing me when I got out of the hospital I survived.

And you can too.

There is something behind the decision of Suicide

I have often heard people claim that people who choose to commit suicide especially famous people such as my idol, Robin Williams are selfish for making that choice.  I believe they are wrong because it isn't about anyone else except for the fact that we often feel others would be hurt less and be better off without us around do cause this pain.

If you have ever lived with a Bipolar, PTSD, Major Clinical Depression person for an extended period of time you will find it can be frustrating, tiring, emotionally draining not only for you but for the person struggling with it as well.  To maintain any type of relationship when you have that going on inside your mind and you face a world filled with triggers it can feel like everyday is an emotional rollercoaster you cannot get off of.

As the struggle continues inside the idea of maintaining a relationship is catastrophic for some because you know you are hurting someone else and you are seemingly incapable at times of preventing that pain.  Thus the choice becomes a black or white issue for many who suffer as their is no gray area in the mind of many of us.  So we either stay and torture someone else, separate or for some choose to commit suicide to spare them and anyone who might have been involved with in the future.

To this day I have people who worry each and everyday that I might choose that again and cause them to be hurt by my choice.  It doesn't seem to matter how much I tell them I won't do it again, they don't believe me.  I broke several close friends hearts when I broke that promise long ago and now I don't even attempt to make it anymore.  It still hurts to think they won't look at me, talk to me or interact with me in public where safety is pretty much assured because I broke a promise I begged them to not ask me to make in the first place.

There is no way to get past it, get over it or move on from it, it will always be there in the back of the mind calling you to the darkened abyss it brings.  There is no need for guilt and shame to try to keep someone from making that choice, it only adds weight to an already struggling back trying to get the monkey known as suicide off their backs.

So the next time you shame or guilt someone who has attempted and failed, or who mentions they have been having those thoughts keep in mind there is something behind the decision you may never understand or have the ability to do so.  It is not about religious beliefs or fear of hurting someone else it is about the pain they are feeling that won't go away and like a heavy winter blanket it is suffocating them, they can't get out from under it no matter who tries to help them.