A desperate letter to my wife...

I hope you are happy because sending me over the edge worked this morning. Do you think your rude behavior towards me made the guilt go away? No, it made me puke brown sludge from my breakfast. TWICE. Do you think I wanted to lay around and sleep? Wrong. I did not stay home to sleep....


I literally layed this morning WITH MY HEAD IN MY HANDS stressed and SADDENNED beyond what your brain can possibly interpret. Your inability to take the hour an a half that you were at home and aware that something was very, and truly wrong, caused deeper problems than you and I CANNOT even imagine. This morning was a clear cry for help and I am disgusted by the fact that you actually held my hand and "tried" to care until YOU decided that you were infuriated. YOU made this about your own selfish thoughts instead of taking just a few moments to put yourself in my shoes. JUST A FEW MOMENTS WOULD HAVE HAD A BETTER OUTCOME.



I WILL have sick days; HOWEVER, I am extremely proud of my accomplishments. I AM EXTREMELY satisfied with my ability to OVERCOME my adversities to land this job, keep this job, and have the desire to GO BACK as soon as TOMORROW when I can make sense of the deamons that are lurking around the corner. HELL YEAH, this will happen again, my point is that I have always tried to impress you, make you and our family happy, and stop the insanity from ruining our relationship.



YOU, of all people, after all of the years of watching me cope, should understand that my life will not magically become easier overnight. YOU have watched my struggles since August of 2008 when I was first diagnosed. Yes, you gave me a second chance, but I feel as though I pay for it everyday. I have mental adversities over issues that are clearly my own deamons that develop into what is categorized as "guilt."



This is a much deeper seeded issue than you can ever imagine. If it wasn't for my image issues, I would be slittling my wrists, throat, stomach, between my toes, and the back of my legs every single day. Cutting, is not an act for attention, pity, or any other self absorbed categorization. Cutting is a charactoristic of my illness. No two mental illnesses are exactly the same. They are like fingerprints. I continuosly try to let you into the world of my addiction to mutilate. My terrible panic attacks and overcoming what developed into agoraphobic tendencies cause issues to do a task at work, it actually takes me twice as long because of all of the editing, second guessing, checking, re-checking, etc. Am I going to impress the intelligent individuals that I work with? Am I going to embarass myself? A lot of these issues many healthy people deal with AND I GET THAT; however, the impact on my "fingerprint" aka mental illness, is severe.



Have you ever felt like dying inside? Have you ever had too much on your plate? I already know the answer is YES. BUT, imagine that happening about every 20 minutes. It's referred to as the bipolar cycle.



Dr. "I" and I have known each other for 3-years. If I needed to prioritze my conversation to be about something other than what I chose to discuss the other day, then that is what we would have talked about. However, when I ranked my "deamons," that particular category was what had plagued my mind the most. You must also understand, that I have several items on my itinerary when I meet with him. Due to time constraints and ME SIMPLY FORGETTING, it doesn't always happen. I need a therapist in addition to all of this. WE need a therapist, actually, I think that a couple traveling through the process of healing together is something that can actually keep our relationship strong; stand out from the rest. WE talked about the therapist and it never happened.



I lost my train of thought, I had to go vommit again, sorry I didn't ask for your permission to be actually "normal person sick" and "mental person sick" on both days....but "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" right? Always multi-tasking like a good little girl. (this was my sarcastic sentence).



I want to say curse words. I will refrain from calling you names, and adding explicative "adjectives."



Again, I am in over my head. I do not need you to yell and say, "well then just quit." That will not benefit our family. That will not benefit my illness. I HAVE ALREADY SEEN a huge improvement being on a set sleep schedule, developing a daily routine, and actually doing a job that I am passionate about. BUT, it does not take away what still exists.



Today, was a cry for help. I do not need you to fly home from your job to babysit me. It was a strong need for us to build our level of conversation and communication which kinda sucks right now. Being a parent is awesome but it is definitely an inconvenience when scheduling a time to talk. Sometimes a cry for help supercedes any "scheduling" that may need to be done. Sometimes it needs to be a priority. I want to feel as though I am a priority. That statement is not intended to sound selfish. My intentions are genuine.



My cry for help is more of a NEED of respect and understanding as it pertains to SICKNESS. Sick days are unavoidable, I realize in the United States your employer has the ability to take your job away at any time for any reason. I realize that since we are gay I cannot go on your health insurance. I also realize that you cannot help to be ANGRY when you are the only working adult in the household. BUT, please understand, I ACTUALLY want to contribute. Huge difference. I want to provide for OUR FAMILY so that we can enjoy simple things such as cable, electricity, water, shelter, a healthy dinner as well as perks such as vacation and flying accross the country to see our family members that have chosen not to live near us (I have a lot of anger towards my family for moving away) and I know that you miss yours.



I love my job. It is very hard. I am afraid. But the fact that I have a job is an unbelievable gift. I want it but does it want me?



For goodness sake, I have to go to court and prove myself AGAIN that I am the best fit for my son and HE DESERVES child support. Have you thought that maybe the amount of stress from that day is a dark cloud getting closer, and closer, and causing me panic attacks? My throat has been burning from the attacks.



I want you to know that if I didn't love you and my son, I would let my son's father raise him and I would not be with you. I would be on the next flight to live with my parents or Hawaii to live in a tent with no health insurance and go off on some crazy downward spiral. BUT IT IS YOU that inspires me IT IS YOU that makes me want to try and be better. Why? I love you with all of my heart. I am in love with you. I don't love you for convenience. I don't love you because I am crying right now. I don't love you because it is the easy way out. You help me try, better myself, and you have the warmest heart. I just don't know if you feel the same way anymore. Is your heart slowly becoming cold? Are you slipping away? I don't feel like I deserve you. At times, I know you rather be married to a woman stronger than me. However, this is all I have to offer. I don't know what the future holds concerning any of what I have just discussed.



I lost my train of thought which seams to be a trend lately. I had to step away. If you choose to respond to me I will not be using my e-mail for the rest of the day. I have a lot to think about. Thoughts are swimming around my head and it is time I stop. Breathe. Take it all in. I went from 0-60 without preparing to go back to work because I was hired "on the spot."



If you chose to contact me, and I hope you do, I prefer a phone call as responding to this may not fit in a simple text message. But again, the ball is in your court now and that is your decision.





PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS YOU GUYS...I FEEL SO LOST!

Walking Contradiction

I don't have time to come up with a cute title so deal with it.

I'm tipsy.  Do you ever have so much to say you don't know where to start?  No, seriously, I don't know where to start....ummmmmmmmm....soooo....yeah.  I have had a lot to digest the past couple of days.  Totally complicated....ANNNDDDD  I have to multi-task due to the fact that I went from having so much time to think, sit on the couch, eat, think some more, and stare at myself in the mirror with disdain due to rapid weight gain (while holding a cookie).  Now, I am squeezing my bloated ASS into a suit 5 days a week and putting on a "happy" face.  I would like to say I have a lot of passion for what I am doing, so it does help, but anxiety and darkness is lurking behind every corner.  If anyone has the answer to the following question I would love to hear it:  HOW do you get diagnosed with several disorders while working at a decent place of business, lose your job, go in and out of a psych ward a few times, and then go back to work a year later?  How do you make it last...especially if you really want it?

Moving on.

My psychiatrist gave me homework which is the last thing I need, due to the fact that I am inundated with so much new information at the moment.  I know he is used to being "healthy" and "well" but NEWS FLASH!  Didn't you diagnose me with Bipolar II, extreme anxiety, self-mutilation, etc.?  Yeah, homework isn't exactly what I had in mind.

Homework:

Figure out a way to begin developing healthy friendships without codependency or feeding another person's illness or "bad behavior." 

Easier said than done.  I make extremely bad decisions all of the time.  I cannot judge character or intentions of another individual because I am constantly walking around in a big fat cumulus cloud.  I am one of the few individuals that has faith in humanity...Did you just laugh?  Exactly. 

Apparently, "healthy" people do not worry about "unhealthy" people as much as the flipside.  Yep, even though I wallow in self pity, somehow I have the time to worry about others more than others worry about others.  If that makes any sense.  It actually does make sense to me and it is an extreme eye opener.  HOWEVER, due to my extreme guilt issues, I feel bad that I have possibly fed a person's sickness, or again, "bad behavior."  So then I go back into the cycle of additional worry.

Dammit!  I went pee and now I lost my therapeutic thought process!  Crapola!

(15-minute pause)

I still do not remember.  I will take this as a hint from the universe NOT to continue blubbering on.

Hypocritically yours,

Truthaboutcrazy

You should know...

I don't think I know more than anybody else.  I understand I will learn something new about this every day.

You should know that no two mentally ill people are alike.  We can empathize with each other, support each other, and stick together; however, its truly important to understand that all of us will never consecutively have bad days and will never consecutively have good days.  Our sleep patterns won't be the same and our self destruction may have the same root cause, but we all express it in very different ways.

You gotta learn it the hard way.

I get mad.  I get jealous. and I get scared.

When the people I love do what I do to myself I literally have a nervous breakdown.  I witnessed (well kinda) a true psychotic break and OH  MY GOD, it is so different than experiencing one.  Watching from the outside is like squeezing your stomach with a metal clamp until you throw up.  I can't explain the outer body experience I had.  I was listening to my own fears coming out of someone's mouth and all I could do was cry, and yell, and almost flipped out at work. 

When you love someone that goes through what you went through, I feel as though the rage stems from wanting them to see what you saw when you snapped out of it.  The rage comes from being selfish and impatient.  The rage also comes from self hatred.  I can only imagine what my inability to empathize and stay calm when people need me would be perceived as.  I want to help and when a wall gets thrown up and I can't do what I see is help I lose it. 

Again, we can love each other, support each other, and empathize but we can't always be the best help.  Why?  Two sick people trying to help each other isn't necessarily a recipe for disaster but its definitely an uphill battle.

Peace and Patience,

Truthaboutcrazy

Back to Work...

I'm so happy; I'm not happy.
Feed the sickness.
So deserving; undeserving.
Tiny voices in my head.

I try so hard to not try hard.
Feel the sickness.
So beautiful that its not wanted.
Want to hide under my bed.

I'm so strong; I'm so weak.
My "big girl" future is looking bleak.
I'm so happy; I'm not happy.
Familiar voices in my head.

Sooo...

How the hell are ya'll doing? 

I recieve a gift.  A gift of opportunity, coincidence, and discomfort all rolled into one.  I am working in a very high profile office performing a very high profile job where a neat and tidy appearance, mentality, and approach is everything....everything that I "used to be."

I accepted this gift because I am working for an amazing company with the top reputation for getting people jobs.  I'm a bleeding heart and so naturally I wanted to take this job. I couldn't find a job so naturally I can empathize.  Of course there are major standards, corporate requirements, and I have to market myself...It's wonderful, actually, but my disorder is lurking around every corner.  I only want to cry during the most inconvenient time!  I want to quit at least once a day because I am overwhelmed and I feel inferior.  I am working with these STRONG women with a clear vision of their lives, etc. etc.

Bottom Line:  I happen to be fortunate enough to have the "potential" of being the best.  This is what I have been told anyway...but when I am told something like that, my brain translates this into, "You are an idiot, go home, and never show your face in this high profile town again."

It's just too fast!  I didn't even know that I would interview on Friday and start on Monday...I had no time to prioritize, no "fun money" to buy new clothes and I just somehow show up in a suit and kick ass...I don't want to kick ass because then I get all of this attention...thats the other problem...I love attention...but I don't want it.  I can't stop dreaming about a car speeding down the road and hitting a wall.

I can't stop obsessing over the fact that no one is at the house now and I should be in it...I never really wanted to leave it but it's obvious that I was quickly developing agoraphobia...

I don't know how to end this blog so I'm just going to go off to bed...my head is swimming, I'm so glad Friday has arrived, and I hope I am atleast 50% awake tomorrow.  I'm not asking for pity or anything...I just can't stop envisioning this puppy dropped off in a fancy neighborhood trying to find someone to love him even though he is beat up a bit and doesn't look thin, well manicured, and promising...sick part is that I grew up in that fancy town and thats where the dysfunction began...we shall see I suppose.

I need my happy place!!!!!!!!!!!