Leg work

On my end will be the mental stuff

Like telling myself I’m good enough.

I want you to make me strong

So everyone else knows it.

But really, I’ve joined 2 running groups, a biking group, 1 yoga studio, and 1 gym with hopefully 1 personal trainer.


Time and place

When was a time where you came the closest to killing yourself?

A lightening storm in ’08…

Not when you were still just thinking about it.

A college dorm in ’11…

But when you almost left.

A kitchen floor in ’16…

So only a few times, that’s no so bad…


There was a statement I read off a suicide prevention blog back in high school.

“If you kill your self then you will never be around long enough to feel the relief of death, your last moments on earth will be in pain.”

Every time a suicide idealization came back into my thoughts I’d remember this sentence and it would instantly bring me back to reality again. I wish I could remember what site I was on or had some way of letting that person know just how powerful that sentence was, just how many times it saved my life over the last 10 years.

After Laura

Laura and I broke up Friday morning, 4 days short of our 1 month anniversary. She did most the talking and seemed like she wanted to move past the Wednesday night no-call fuck up. I disagreed and asked for a break because, as I explained to her, I think I’ve been hypomanic for a few days.

Regardless, I’ve been off my medication for about a month now and have done nothing (supplements, exercise, counseling, yoga, diets, meditation) to cope. Literally, I’ve done nothing, I just keep putting it off because I’m busy. So now its kind of come to a head and I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread and it feels a little dangerous.

She took a breath, then asked what my coping mechanisms are because her mother has bipolar too and she has “already been through that pain and disappointment” and needs me to be “strong and a constant emotional support during these hard times with surgeries and the healing process the next few weeks” and I can’t be that. Without thinking about what I want, looking ahead, I can’t be that support because I’m not stable enough.

So she broke up with me. And it sucks. And like Nicole, I don’t feel like I’ll feel anything for a few weeks until it hits. Or maybe, since we only dated for a month I won’t feel much at all. But, we lost our final virginities to each other. I call it that because each of us did everything else with other partners, except giving oral sex, and scissoring was new to each of us too I guess.

I want to drink and have sex with gals (maybe go back to guys?) and figure out what living unstable is really going to mean.


I fucked up last night in the way that I was supposed to call you to give “emotional support” before your surgery, but I didn’t.

I texted you an apology and a question this morning about how the surgery went. You replied “hmu with a call sometime today or tomorrow.”

I feel like shit. Last night I almost puked when I read your text about how “disappointed/hurt” you are because I didn’t call to give “emotional support before a scary time” when I’d said that morning I would and it couldn’t just been a “quick call” instead of nothing.

Except, you don’t have “quick calls.” This is your 5th surgery in the past 5 years. You’ve got a chronic illness and there’s not a time in your near future when I think even you know you’ll be stable again. Not to say you’re going to die, just, you’re going to be in pain for a while. I feel guilty that I told you I could handle the fact that you are sick. I feel frustrated that just yesterday morning in your bed you hinted at wanting to tell me you loved me and wanting to hear it back.

It’s been 1 month, Laura. I feel frustrated with myself that I can’t handle what happening to you and so guilty that what I want most right now is to be left alone, not to call you or be in a relationship with you anymore. I fucked up last night by not calling and I don’t want to face that conversation, but I also don’t want to be in this constant state of apologizing.

But, you are pretty smart. I think you’ve figured this out, or else you really are so hurt that you’re giving me this space.

Like I said, I feel like shit. I also have a killer headache and an inability to sleep or eat. I’m pretty 98% positive I’ve been in a hypomanic episode since Tuesday. What I need to do is call you and talk to straighten this out. What I need is silence and space for a while to get back on track.

It’s been short and it feels like you and me have potential to be a lot of things. Mostly, I no longer want to feel like I’m suffocating. I don’t want to keep putting off my own self care for you and for our relationship so I could call you each night (1 hour minimum), and text you constantly, and it’s just too much stress.

I just want to be alone from everyone.

Waves of the sea

November 7, 2017

Next tattoo. Back of right arm.

Hair is going darker as well.

I haven’t left her yet. Or told her I want to leave.

The cup isn’t half empty or half full, its just a cup, and its up to me to fill it up.

I can’t wake up every morning, or stop after every purchase, or rethink every extra nap as depression or mania. I can’t keep evaluating my days and categorizing my moods, it will drive me insane-er.

The waves of the sea will bring me back to me.

Homesick for somewhere

March 25, 2017

I wish I had a name for this feeling, and at the same time, I wish I’d never feel it again. I can’t stop the feeling from coming in, stronger and faster now that the panic has set in.

When I went to see my counselor the first time, she’d convinced me to get back on meds. I called my psychiatrist, got an appt., then canceled a week beforehand. After seeing my counselor a second time, I admitted I cancelled and she encouraged me to get the appt. back so I tried and got one for the following Monday. The office just called to cancel that appt. because the doctor is in the hospital and on medical leave. I’ve called the office to reschedule about ten times between yesterday and today and no one’s picking up the phones. Pure frustration.

Because, this last week was insanely stressful at work, and I slipped into a hypomanic episode. Work continues to be stressful, but I’ve crashed since the weekend started. I am fully aware I need to be on meds and seeing a counselor regularly and possibly a support group. I have a sign on my mirror that reads, “You have Bipolar, and you’ll be okay.” The part where I realized that I need meds, like everyday, is the part that started making the bipolar real for me. I can’t live being tossed back and forth like this. My counselor is right too in that every episode I’ve had, depressive or manic, has slowly grown stronger over the years. What was first just hard to get out of bed and a little more energy every once in awhile has transformed into suicide attempts and blackout periods during my four-day-no-sleep manic episodes. I’m lying to myself when I say I don’t need meds because bipolar makes me feel like I’ve got the potential to break my own heart from sadness or murder myself without realizing it, I just feel like I’ve got no control and if I let it go I will do damage. So I’m seeking help, again, and hopfully in a few weeks I’ll be back on meds. Different meds though because Latuda was terrible and expensive.

But the feeling. It’s like homesickness, but I’m homesick for somewhere I’ve never been, or I’m homesick for an idea. I feel alone and sad and on the edge of something. Mania makes me feel alive and drunk and invincable. With depression I don’t feel anything, nothing makes me feel anything except tired. When I’m normal obviously I’ve got nothing to complain about, just dread the next episode. When I’m in the middle, mixed, I feel that homesick feeling like I want to do anything to fufill it and get it out of my head. It’s so hard to put into words. I just feel desperate to feel something and stop feeling everything all at once.

Hypomania is exhausting, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I slip back into it this following week. I’m staying in this weekend doing paperwork, eating Burger King tonight, and renting Amazon movies. I was thinking about my old mania the other night and how I always used to have a pattern when I was manic. Those were the weeks where I would buy at least five new things for my wardrobe, sleep with at least three different men, and change my hair in some way (usually by dying or cutting it myself.) I knew moving up here would solve the issue of sex, but the hair became more of an issue with me turning it orange and shaggy before finally getting it professionally dyed and leaving it alone.

It sounds so dramatic to say I’m just trying to keep my head afloat, but it also seems pretty accurate. Just trying to make it with this brain.

Poor me

February 15, 2017

I’m socially awkward, superbly. Even when I’m comfortable in a situation, I still replay my reactions to myself in the most negative way, like they know, they’ve got to know I’m never gone be normal. Hence the social anxiety disorder.

More or less anymore I’ve accepted I’m gonna be weird. It’s just the moments with my coworkers, who have never been the warmest, that make me feel like an outsider, even after two years to adapt.

I didn’t run tonight even though I normally do on Wednesdays.

Sometimes I think it’s a wonder I’ve made it through an entire week. Does this mean I will have a mental breakdown sometime in my life? Maybe I haven’t dealt with this diagnosis well and I’m allowed a year to get my mind right about it. Maybe someday I will break and be hospitalized for it, because if I were to break I’m positive I wouldn’t be able to handle it alone. That should be overwhelming and terrifying. I’m pretty numb tonight.

My thoughts are depressing, but my mood doesn’t match it. I’m still full of energy and productive and focused and awake. I shouldn’t be any of these things. Hypomanic is my guess.