I feel so self destructive lately. i keep making bad decisions and i know that i am doing it. its like im doin things and telling myself i shouldn’t do it, but i am doing it anyway. then on the other hand i am strict and weird about things and people.
I went out to my car tonight after spending the day in the house because I didn’t feel well. I decided to go to whole food and grab some dinner. When I got to my car i don’t know if it was unlocked or not because I always push the button as im approaching. I didn’t hear an unlock sound but I wasn’t listening for it. I saw my glove compartment opened and my serving apron out. I had two in the car. The one with my pens was missing as well as my server book. Luckily I had nothing in it, and also luckily I took my purse out of the car, because for some reason lately I have been keeping it in the glove box. I keep asking myself why did this happen? What is my lesson? But I am also wondering if there is a lesson or if its just chance. I suppose thats why there are philosophers out in the world. Does what I do matter as much as I think? Have I been delusional for longer than I could ever imagine?
When I started smoking weed again its because I thought to myself that why should I be so strict? Why do I need to keep myself so tight and strict from every sort of fun thing. I already have most food gone from my diet and I lost the man I thought I was going to marry and working a very part time serving job in LA and sleeping most of the day. Oh and I am going to be 40 in a few weeks. I guess this is normal to be thinking and feeling. I feel like I am ready for the next step in my life. I applied to community college and I am planning on going. I need direction and its all on me to do it.
I feel violated and confused on what was taken from me. Why did that happen to me? Was it only my car? Was I targeted? Is there someone watching me? Or did I happen to unlock it when I heard the other car alarm going off and maybe it unlocked and someone noticed and took advantage of the situation. I also feel like my things were stolen in the mail when I was smoking weed and now here it is again. Am I fucking up by smoking weed? or am i just an unlucky target? I guess I will never know, or maybe I will? Who knows. Either way I am not keeping anything in my car anymore and tomorrow cleaning out the glove box so there is nothing in there besides registration and insurance. And im not gong to smoke weed tomorrow or until later in the week. I am going to practice control.
history means so much…it could mean we have a lot of history, or we are history like no longer a thing. so many people in my world are both and its been hitting me hard these days. i am having trouble realizing that its okay that people aren’t my friends anymore. i try to think about what it would be like to sit and hang out with them and if i even would want to, and most of the time the answer is no. its almost like the access is the problem. i dont like not having access to old friends/lovers. its like how can we spend so much time tighter and be so close, but now we are nothing. we all turn into somebody we used to know. is that how its supposed to be? is life supposed to be a series of people who come and go and you dont know anymore? what is the point of even meeting people then? what is the point of life? is it to go meet people and lose them and learn from each experience? i didn’t sign up for this. i want connection all the time, but if its going to just go away why bother?
what the fuck.
tonight i saw one of the most epic shows of my life. Its up there with radiohead at the tower and beach house in a church…Broken Social Scene. Ive love this band for so many years, and a dude I liked introduced me to them, and I kinda took it upon myself to love them in my own ways..I got to see them one time real quick in berkeley but tonight was tops. It was the end of their tour and they had the whole old gang back together. They were supposedly going to play “you forgot it in people” in its entirety, but instead played so many songs off all different albums and killed each one. The energy they had they energy the crowd had was so incredible. It was tangible. They were crying on stage, i was crying in the audience. It felt intimate and romantic. it was special. i know they thought it was special too. I feel so blessed to have been there. I wish I wasnt reminded of the las time i was there and who i saw play on that stage. i cant let go of some of those memories negative emotions. but i am trying to not let it all be ruined. there were good times too.
I am in mania, HARD. Its so fucking intense man. I never knew I had this illness, and i didn’t even believe it until yesterday. I mean the evidence was there, but there was still a part of me that felt like I maybe was being misunderstood and some doctor would come out of nowhere and let me know that its all been a misunderstanding and that I didn’t have a serious mental illness. That I was going to be okay if I just started to do this, or stopped doing that…Never would have to worry again. I would come out triumphantly and everyone who left me alone during this time would come back and be happy and we would all be a family again. Then yesterday happened.
Five days ago (Saturday 5/12) I completely lost my mind on the only person that talks to me daily and knows of my daily musings. I had woken up and had had enough. I still somehow got through the day and even went to a friends house for dinner. Its comes in waves. I can be completely there and normal and feeling fine, happy even, then a minute later crying so hard and feeling so much. Music brings the tears on FAST. Right now I am listening to Fiona Apple crying my eyes out, but ten minutes ago I was listening to Semi-Charmed Kinda Life dancing and cracking up. My emotions make me a rag doll and a rabid dog mixed together into one manic Melissa.
On the other side of the coin, I am feeling everything from everyone and even the world around me. I can cry thinking about drug addicts sitting on the corner. I was sobbing thinking of how misunderstood they are to themselves and their families, and if just if someone could go wake them all up to this, it would magically be solved. Crying desperately over why this cant happen and how sad the world is because of it. I am getting so much work done, I am constantly thinking of how to make work more efficient and easier for everyone. I am coming up with lots of ideas to write, draw, photograph, etc. I just still have zero patience to do any of it. I need to figure out how to harness this power I have inside me.
Yes, Power. Bi-polar can be a powerful tool if you know how to wield it properly. It is a delicate mix of exercise, artistic freedom, slowing down practices like Yoga and Tai Chi, a healthy balanced diet as well as knowing your food allergies, journaling, therapy and patience with yourself.
I hear music different, I can feel exactly what the artist is trying to convey. I can see the journey the music is going on if i pay close enough attention. When talking to people I can see through their bullshit and its frustrating. When alone I want to numb it all because its too fucking much, so I smoke marijuana. I abuse the fuck out of that plant, and strictly on accident. I don’t know how to dose myself properly. I only know how to just keep getting it every time I want it.
I recognize I have this and marijuana makes it better sometimes and can bring me back into my body and sometimes it can be worse and make me lose my mind.
Today marks one whole entire year since i went into the mental hospital and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder (unspecified). Today one year ago changed my whole life. Today one year ago, I also stopped drinking alcohol, so yeah a year with no booze on top of it. I still smoked weed everyday, but that is coming to an end as well.
I wish I could say that today I find myself stronger and have overcome and got a whole new look and love of life. I can not. Only a few days ago I spend four days going though hours upon hours of contemplating killing myself and various ways to do it. I spent hours researching why I felt like I did and if it was possible to have a good quality of life. I still am not convinced i will have a good life. I think it will be a struggle every single day to just remain grounded and hold my emotions together. I think no matter what amount of medicine I take, its never going to be enough. It will always be a game of cat and mouse to keep me and my chemicals balanced.
I can’t even take care of myself. I get so desperate and cling to anything that comes by when I’m stressed because I have a high level of lifestyle that I keep. My OCD makes me feel unable to fully relax around anyone else, and to live in something small or gross or loud. I keep myself down and depending on others because its impossible for me to work a normal job and keep such a high standard of living. I am so broke. Yet, I will still go buy my friend a vodka for breakfast and eat at a diner instead of the hotel breakfast.Why? because the hotel breakfast looked gross and I wouldn’t eat it. Thats serious. I really wouldn’t eat it. So I keep myself down. I feel like it gets worse every year.
I wish I could be the poster girl of hard work can over come mental illness. I wish I had faith that I would be totally okay and “normal” again. I can’t. I am unsure if I ever will. I think anyone with mental illness would agree, there is no guarantee that we will find a way to live happily. We all want it, but truly our illness stops us. My illness stops me from having a good routine and feeling peaceful around other people. Its like how someone with a serious physical can’t go out running and cook themselves healthy food. The illness stops you from it. If its not my emotions then its my mania. Then my mania turns into depression and my depression gets so bad until I finally pull myself together. I drag myself up and get strength and then have a few good weeks or sometimes only a full week of plans and diagrams and charts and journals of my progress. I “finally got it together!” to only fail on the slightest departure from my routine or plan. One day of extra laziness in the morning stops me from doing yoga anymore. One day. Its bananas. Its my illness. I don’t even know how to stop that cycle. I know its absurd, and I can “start today”! but for some reason I have yet to find a way to do it.
Nobody called or congratulated me. Nobody even checked in on me. I had 5 different people know of my deep darkness last week, and even left in a hurry the other morning to “go be alone” and never asked if I was okay. I even told several people that today was my anniversary of no booze and some of hospital. Nothing. No support. No encouragement. No good job! Nothing.
Why would someone like me want to keep fighting? what am i even fighting for? to fight? i fucking hate it. I want to be peaceful and quiet. I want to be safe and sound. I want to be stable. I want to be in my own world, if I have to. I want to not have to defend myself and my emotions all the time. I want to be seen and not judged.
How do I teach myself how to live?
This is advice I’ve heard over the years and I decided to finally take it. I am on a new journey these days, and I thought this would be the best way to continue on my path to writing a book.
Ive been writing some poetry again, which has felt nice, but its quite depressing. I am feeling really sad and lonely. I miss my best friend, I miss my lover, my partner, my person. He’s gone and its my fault. So excuse any too depressive posts. I hope as time goes on, my posts become more and more uplifting. Thats my goal.
It never stops blowing now. you created this noise. i never knew it before i met you but its needed. the air fills the room with newness and hope. it helps you sleep, which now helps me sleep. it keeps me feeling close to you because i know you hear it too. you feel the flow move around the room. you hear the distraction it causes. so i pretend you are laying next to me, sleeping.