Guilty

When I was 14 I obtained my first job.  My parents divorced, and we couldn't live the lifestyle we once had.  I wanted to continue my passion though.  Dance and Music...

Age 14:  I became a dance teacher's assistant.  I taught 3-5 year olds cartwheels and other cute little moves.  The pay?  Free dance class for my age group and two additional performances included in our recital.  I also received a discount on my brother's acrobatic class by ballet dancing with girls my age that had special needs.  I continued to teach until I was able to get a "job."

Root Cause:  Make my parents proud of me.  Help their financial situation.

Age 16:  Two weeks after my birthday I immediately began to work.  I got my license to drive and took a job as a hostess downtown.  Fearlessly I left the suburbs almost daily, parked in a parking garage with piss in the stairway, and walked to a lovely restaurant almost nightly, left late, went to sleep and then went to school. Normal.

Root Cause:  My dad helped me get my first job.  Be a good girl.

Age 17 - 19:  School was getting tough.  I needed to switch to part-time.  I became a janitor for two years and a cashier at the local market.  I didn't mind a messy job.  I was making more money than anyone else I went to school with.

Root Cause:  Self gratification.  Oh yeah, and some really good weed.

Age 20:  After that I became a waitress, went to college, dropped out because I became pregnant by a convicted felon that I had no idea was a felon or that there was a warrant out for arrest.  He molested me and would get high and light my underwear on fire when he was high because the crack (that my naive ass had no idea he was doing) made him paranoid. He said it was "tainted by other men." 

Age 20-21:  Then I had my son, went back to work 3 weeks later which is kinda against the law because you aren't supposed to work unless yo are released by a doctor.  I started stocking shelves and carrying heavy crates when I wasn't healed yet.  But, my son needed diapers.  When I was "home" he locked me in a closet sized spare room.  I breastfed my son when he was hungry and pumped extra milk for him to consume when I went to work.  He only let me hold my son when I fed him.  He was taken away from me when I was done. Sometimes I would lie and say he was still feeding to prolong the inevitable. When my son went to sleep, I was abused.  I would take prescription pain medication to make the pain go away.  I passed out and he went to buy drugs and use.  It didn't take long for me to wake up and realize that I had worked my whole life and I left him and moved in with my father.  He stalked me for awhile but after he beat the crap out of me I took pictures of the bruises and got a court order for him to stay the "eff" away.

Root Cause:  I've always worked, therefore popping out a child that has NEEDS requires someone to pull the weight.

Age 21 - 25:  I went back to online school part-time and got a decent job.  I graduated in 2007 while simultaneously receiving 4 promotions at the same company.  I didn't know much but I learned quickly and kicked ass at what I did.  In addition, I met my "LLBFF" and my wife.  Life was good and half the time I didn't even realize how good it was.  My son's aunt took him every other weekend for supervised visits with his dad who was clean (for a little while).  We partied, threw money down at the bar like it was toilet paper we wiped our asses with, and had killer bodies.  At work, we were unstoppable.  It pissed so many people off that the two smartest girls in the department were also HOT and had great personalities.  We were a small close inner circle and didn't need to string people along that didn't matter.  Meanwhile, my wife went from a temporary worker to an invaluable component to the business.  Again, we were all LOUD, HOT, FUN, and SUCCESSFUL.

Root Cause:  Validation.  I finally made it?  Satisfaction.  We all had overcome so much.

Age 25:  Diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder, Insomnia, and Bipolar Type 2 disorder.  I was manic and depressed at the same time (damn I miss mania).  My disorder has evolved since then but whatever...Anyways I was still working.  A member of leadership at this point.  I was responsible for 18 - 22 people and myself...haha...could barely take care of myself.  When I was first given Xanax, I was so manic it didn't even "work."  I didn't take extra because I didn't know how "exciting" how it would be in the future.  My wife was promoted again, we bought a house, my son started reading when he was 3.  Life was good.  House parties, shopping sprees, people were jealous of me...but secretly I was ill...

Root Cause:  Everyone I know thinks I am successful.  Don't "eff" this up.

Age 26:  Lost my job.  Lost some friends.  Lost my future wife for 2 months (can't mess with fate people).  Started taking Zoloft and "ripped my kin off" and then Abilify aka the devil...that didn't last long.  I went on unemployment, stopped partying so much, submerged myself in my son's school work and went to "the home" twice (see previous post the breakdown, the home, and the Indian).

Root Cause:  Legally Insane

Now:  I don't even know.  I have so many ideas that fear keeps me from executing.  Aren't people with bipolar disorder supposed to be entrepreneurs? (lol)

Root Cause:  It's complicated.

In closing, my relationship has completely changed dynamics.  I need an additional therapist.  Somehow, my wife has turned into my parent. When I was working (until yesterday) I was a failure.  I was behind on the laundry, the dust began to accumulate because when I was unemployed I cleaned the house more (naturally).  I didn't pay a bill or two on time...I am talking a few days off PEOPLE...she is such a perfectionist.  I realize now that was one of the reasons that attracted me to her and it has become a standard that I cannot even satisfy.  I am not perfection.  In fact, I FIND PERFECTION IN IMPERFECTION (remember that...its kinda my famous quote and stuff).  Unfortunately, I drive her crazy daily.  She holds it in until finally there is a volcanic eruption.  She has told me that she feels like a single parent that has to parent me and my son.  What?  This, I was not aware of...no offense, dear, but our son would be malnourished without you...no one can live off of ham sandwiches and hamburger helper....UGGGHHHERRREEGGGG!

However, she is my hero.  If she feels like my parent it is because I placed her there.  In my eyes she is on a pedestal that I cannot reach.  I stretch, stand on my tippy toes, only to fall on the floor in shame.  This situation is nobodies fault.  This is what happens when you have two extremely ambitious and loving people that happen to express themselves in two incredibly different ways.  Currently, I am jobless (again, as of yesterday).  I was afraid to tell her.  I was literally petrified because I knew I would feel GUILTY, SHAME, AND ANGER.  Why?  Why, do I feel this way.  She is a good person.  She is not abusive. She loves me very much.  WHY do I disappoint her to the point that I feel like slitting my wrists.

When you have a mental illness, everyone else in your life has a mental illness too.  A mental illness impacts every person you love.  They may not understand that is why they are so angry and confused.  They may not understand why they want to put their fist through a wall.  But they do...they may...and they stick around because they love us.  Remember, if they are frustrated, throw a fit, etc.  but do not leave (permanently) it is because they love you.  Just as hard as it is for us to express ourselves, for us to suffer, and for us to try not to flip out.  They are suffering too.  Some say a characteristic of mental illness is selfishness.  It is, not on purpose, but it is, because we forget that everyone else is suffering too.

Selfconciously yours,

Truthaboutcrazy

Warning: Bodily Fluids, Suicide, and Jesus

I like purple.  I am wasting time right now....delaying the inevitable...eyes are burning...should be asleep...

I'm in a suit.  I am ready for the day.  I check myself in the mirror one last time, make a last decision on shoe choice, admire my perfectly placed jewelry, and I walk out the door.  Everytime I touch the door handle my "hypocondrianism" kicks in.  I'm ill, I can't breath, my leg hurts, lack of sleep will cause a car accident, this suit makes me fake, I bought the suit on clearance I'm not fake...just keep walking, my left breast hurts (stop) I need to check for a lump, I think I found a lump.  I need to go to the Dr., Damn I have no health insurance until November, OMG get in the car!  If you lose your job you will have NO health insurance in November, when is November?  I hate the cold.  Its still hot today, I need sunshine therapy...get in the effing car!

(Driving and performing my exact ritual.  Sip drink, back out, turn up the radio to my favorite morning show, laugh and drive...)

 Out of the blue I am struck with plans to end it all.  Rapid cycling, plotting, pure evil.

I decide its time.  Time to end it all.  I pull over and make the plan, ok I have the plan.  I open the car door and vomit.  I get back into traffic and I call my best friend speaking such foreign gibberish even the BFF powers to interpret failed. 

I soil my pants...and piddle a bit too...it's bad...I'm not a damn poodle!

Hysterical I tell her about job difficulties and only current thoughts (nothing from the past that contributed to my deathly tendancies)  I freak out and pull into an Arabic or Islamic type church (not sure, not an expert, not a hater).  I end the call on a "happy note" and proceed to the back of the lot.  A dark shaded area tucked away in thick brush is my choice location to "take care of business...Glad I already went potty on myself since that happens when you die anyway...OMG why am I thinking this!

OMG answered.  I shall elaborate.  As my final moment presented itself, my heart awakened.  I didn't see a light or hear a voice I had a "thought."

GO NOW to the really awesome non-denominational church that loves everyone and coincides so closely with my oddly logical spiritual beliefs. 

OK SO LET ME BE VERY CLEAR:  I do not attend church unless its a wedding or a funeral.  I am a "gay for god" and not too many people like that here in the "south."

I went anyway.  So weird.  I just went.  I ended up speaking with the arts and drama director of the church instead of the pastor because it was early and dude wasn't there yet.  BUT this guy had the most bipolar insanely crazy, wonderful, odd, beautiful office.  We spoke for two hours and I ALWAYS feel like people are judging me (Dr's, christians, co-workers, etc.) I finally had no appointment, no meds to discuss, no requirements, paperwork, just a VERY brutally honest conversation.  IT WAS AMAZING.  I don't think I am JESUS now, I don't think I "got fixed," but I want to see another day and not suffer another day.

One day at a time, one moment even, but I am glad that I want to breath in life.  A few reasons why:

Deep Thoughts: A Comedy

When I am driving and see a squirrel I slam on my breaks, scream, "oh lord," and check my rear view mirror for a fatality...When I see a human I think, "hmmm...what are my options."

On my way to work I enjoy my morning radio show and talking to myself...when I am at work I look at the glass window every ten minutes wondering if it is made of Pyrex or a thin sliver I can jump through.

My step-mother claims to be a woman of GOD and goes to church every weekend...My father loves me more even though I am a "Gay."

Sometimes my son is the only one that understands me...sometimes my son is the only one that will play video games with me.

I hate books because they represent a long-term commitment with their "thickness" and all...I love articles and read for hours on the Internet.

I dream of Disney World...I also dream of Arsenic.

Money = security; however, Money = evil, therefore, Money = Rotting in hell wearing designer shoes. (my personal favorite)

I like to make up songs about any words that rhyme...I like to annoy people at work, the grocery store, and family functions for the mere sake of being annoying.

I like to think demonic thoughts, fantasize about blood and guts...but I hate "horror flicks."  Hmmmm...maybe it inundates my mind with fun!

Until next time my fellow demonic darlings...

Truthaboutcrazy

Beyond Irrational...maybe.

I think I totally figured it out and I kinda understand why people don't "off" themselves due to the following reason:

I have a beautiful child who has been exposed to my emotional trauma BUT, he has experienced heart wrenching trauma regarding his father including violence, drugs, etc. ...which is why I don't let him see him anymore.

With that said, I was never able to go through with "it" until I had a super, mega, realization.  "Take him" too. 

(I have to be careful on how I word this because this blog may disappear)

Anyways, what if I finally went through with it and included him on the plan.  I would rot in hell (I will anyways for being gay) and he would be free from all of the pain that has been inflicted on him.  Morbid, but excellent.  This is freaking you out...I can feel it.

Does it cross your mind when you are driving that it will be just that easy?  I know it has...don't lie.

I miss cutting...It is totally not fair that I have to pretend the urges are gone because they aren't.  I am tired of people telling me they are worried about me and then saying, "I'm not a coddler."  I'm not asking for that!  Now give me back the sharp object please!  Everyone just wants to use my son as a pawn to not hurt, be sad, etc.  What does he have to do with my brain.  I effing love him more than anything on this planet but there is a wall I have to climb to get to him.  He knows it and I know it.  He knows I am "sick" and just doesn't understand the "why" BUT he understands patience more than anyone else!  Those thoughts alone make me want to give in.

Sacrificially yours,

Truthaboutcrazy