fractions of the real thing

While I was trying to remember





you were trying to forget





the bend of the air





that autumn smell





underneath our noses





it was falling out of place





Now I am left to wonder





Will there ever come a day






when I don't second guess myself






crack open myself






dilute myself






will there ever be a moment






where I hear my own beating heart






coming up beneath the crowds






above the misconstrued






does it ever feel like something noble






with overtones of satisfaction?






Will it ever be






like what I wanted it to be...






a simultaneous abstraction






coming together and breaking apart






where did I leave the best of me?











Everyone is waiting for something











a reason, a sunset











they stand shadow to shadow











waiting for the obsolete.











We are fractions of the real deal











cornered we look wary











hands shoved in our pockets











ready to pull out all the stops.











I wish I could stop











wandering alone in a broken town











where no one knows my name











they only think they know my story











I hear them spelling out the riddles











like they've found the latest puzzle piece









like they could glue all my aches together









and form the scenic route









of places in my heart, my brain,









places best forgotten.







Now I look back and you look forward





you spy weddings and children





and tapestries flung like hope





across your parted background





but would you remember





would you believe





that moving forward is not all





that it seems





the muck gets thick and complicated





Not like this past





where the windows are already broken





and the grass is still padded down like a mat



where no one is welcome



and no one leaves their door unlocked



in these parts anymore.

screwing

Being a nice reliable person makes it easy for people to screw you over. Being self-centered and unrelenting tends to make it easier for people to refer to you as The Selfish Bitch. However, The Selfish Bitch rarely gets screwed over because she is too busy screwing other people over.

Which to be, which to be?

I must admit I have more often been the "too nice" person and even on occasion been accused of being "the bitch" as well. I've learned neither one fairs too well in this crazy ol' world of ours. You are either hated or you have people act like they like you just to see how much they can get out of ya!

This bothers me a great deal at the moment.

concentration

I am more than a little perturbed at life's circumstances right now, all the while realizing that I can and should work through it regardless for the prize I desire. I have my whole book played out in my head but am having such a hard time putting it on paper. I know this is because subconsiously I am certain I will taint it in the travel from mind to paper. In the meantime I am filled with exhaustion, anxiety, frustration each time I sit down to write. I blame concentration. I feel I can't fully give wholeheartedly at work, because I have, well, actual work to do while I'm here! With the customers coming in and out, the phone, the boss...it's hardly the backstage for a masterpiece. And at home, it's the television, the husband constantly interrupting when he doesn't even know that's what he's doing-he just always has something to say or ask while I'm sitting there, as if I can't get that invisibly wall between us to look like a real one for the hour or two I need to get down to business. And now, I'm having to work 3 different shifts at work and I fear I'm going to fall under the pressure of losing sleep, and losing hope in the thing I really want to be doing all those hours-writing.

The fact of the matter is, I can't belittle my circumstances and denounce my chance to be something just because of a little noise. Distraction is inevitable. The bravery stems from attempting to work through the distraction and let my thoughts and efforts form a meeting ground in amongst the chaos. I'm not sure how to manage this, me being the ADD kind of person I am. But redundantly I must remind myself of the alternative...working here or some other crummy minimum wage job, struggling to make ends meet, never living up to the potential I know is there...that is not the life I want forever. No, this stage must be temporary, and if it takes every ounce of me to do it then I must do it! I can sleep when I'm dead!

It's 1:30a.m. and I'm wired as usual. Work was good today except for this lady that deadbolted her door, went in her friend's adjoining room locking that door behind her when it can only be opened from her side. That was interesting. The manager had to come take the door down so she could get in. They are going to train me for the 3rd shift soon so I can fill in if the regular guy is sick or needs off for something. I don't mind. I work 3-11p.m. on 2nd shift and can't ever go to sleep so working 11p.m.-7a.m. should be no problem for me. It's the 1st shift I would hate. But even that would be bearable if I had to do it. I really like my job. I wish it paid a teensy weensy bit better, but nothing's perfect. I will probably be moving out after Christmas. I hope to save atleast $2000 before that time to give me a little safety net. I just don't know how to do that to my girls. I want to take them with me but I can't afford it ( I would have to hire a babysitter for my work hours) and my ex would fight me for them. There's no easy answer to this situation. I either stay here for my girls and be miserable with my ex (which the girls would eventually catch on to if they haven't already) or be selfish and get my own place and only see them on the weekends. This is stressing me out so much.

Sleepless in Georgia

I love my job. I work 3-11p.m. at a hotel as a front desk clerk. My job is the highlight of my life these days. One thing about getting off at 11---I'm wired and can't go to sleep when I get home. It's currently 4:04 a.m. here. Wide awake. No signs of sleep coming my way. So I'm online of course, and I just realized tonight that I am no longer a member of Bipolar Planet. Not sure when this happened or why I was "kicked out" but I rejoined and am waiting for approval. I find it unsettling that even the online world has apparently deserted me. Yes, I'm being whiney. But seriously. I'm ashamed of myself. I keep scaring people out of my life and I haven't a clue how. I am very self-absorbed. Yes. That must be it. Whatever the case, I figured I should start blogging again on a REGULAR BASIS. Hold me to it, you know me, I get lazy. The truth is, I'm at my wit's end with my novel. I was hoping to have it publisher ready by the time I'm 30 (which is amazingly only 1 year, 8 months away) but at this rate I'll still be dribbling over the same pathetic antics when I'm 90 or dead or whatever happens to me. I keep changing my mind about how I want it to begin and how I want it to end and the whole purpose of it gets shoved to this side and that side and now I'm to a point where I can't even look at the rough draft without getting sick to my stomach, as if it's a dead corpse being torn apart by buzzards right before my very eyes. I hate that I can't get it right. So I'm going to take a break from it for a while. Maybe forever. Now that thought just petrifies me, that I would actually give up on the one thing I want more than anything. But given my record, I wouldn't put it past myself. I've reached a level of living that is merely just survival rate. Do enough to stay alive. Keep breathing in and out. Eat when hunger strikes. Go to work. Love those two precious daughters. Sleep when possible. That's about it. I don't enjoy anything. I don't care for anything. I just do what's necessary to keep my head above water. And I wouldn't even call it depression. It's just a lack of normal functioning. Somedays it IS depression. Somedays it's bitterness. But tonight, rather this morning, it's just plain out I-don't-give-a-damn. Medication update: I take Klonopin for my nerves on an as needed basis. That's it. I've been off medications for about 3 months now, I'm *supposed* to be taking Seroquel and if my dr. asks I certainly am! But just between you and me, I'm getting along fine without it. Mood swings are to a minimal. No more voices or hallucinations ( I KNOW these were brought on by the various medications I've been on, why else would they cease to exist after I stopped taking them?) All in all I'm okay. I really am. Most days I don't even believe I'm bipolar, let alone the other gems I've been labeled with. I believe I just had a rough patch in life and I handled it a little off keel to what the average human being would have done. And this rough patch extends itself over seemingly neverending horizons, and yet I am succeeding just as well if not better without daily pills. That is my victory. That is my ha-ha at the world. I'm not sick. I'm not crazy. Just a little unwell.

full circle

Once again I find myself in a deep hole of depression. One good thing, I got a full time job about three weeks ago and it keeps me going. Two weeks ago I moved back in with my ex-husband, not because I love him (I certainly don't) but because I missed my girls and I couldn't handle them begging me to come back anymore. Immediately I regret my decision to move back in. My ex is driving me crazy. On a better note, the girls seem happy. And I want them to be happy. And I can't bear the thought of what it would do to them if I left again. But part of me, most of me, wants to save up my money and get my own apartment. It has been such a crazy year. I left last October and moved in with my high school sweetheart D, that lasted 4 months until my mood swings and episodes got to him so bad that he couldn't stand to be there anymore. I moved in with my parents back in March and that was horrible, the verbal abuse was really getting to me. I was engaged for a short while to a guy I met in DBT and though I have broken things off with him he still is hounding me, texting and calling me everyday, etc. I still miss D, still love him as much as I always did, still feel so much regret over what I put him through during those 4 months. We still talk to each other from time to time. I see him sometimes when he's in town. I want to apologize to him and have him give me another chance, just one more chance, that's all I need. But I think I've used all my chances. So here I am, stuck with someone I don't love for the sake of the two girls I love more than anything in this world, and I'm lonely. I'm hurt. I'm scared. I'm aware of the fact that I don't have a single friend around me to tell how I really feel. So I don't talk to them at all. And they forget me. And maybe, just maybe, that's the way it's supposed to be. It's what I deserve. For the mistakes I've made. If it wasn't for my daughters I don't think anything could stop me from putting a bullet straight through my head.

where is she now?

I'm amazed at just how long it's been since I've blogged anything. There's good reason for that. I just finished the rough draft of my novel, that has kept me pretty busy. Small accomplishment, a lot of grueling work ahead. But it's something I suppose.

As far as illness, I am doing well. I'm not hearing and seeing things that aren't really there anymore (knock on wood somebody) and besides some mild bouts with depression my moods have been quite stable the past couple of months. I'm able to look back and see that a lot of the grief was situational, if I allow myself to get stressed over anything it's inevitable that the boogeymen come back to play. Being unemployed, living with my parents, writing a book, getting engaged, having a couple of things leave me brokenhearted...okay, a little stress. But I am managing well. I did try to go back to work and it didn't go so great, I ended up walking out in a huge panic attack. My disability was denied, as I was assured it would be the first try, and I am debating whether to appeal or to try work once again. Right now, my writing is my work, although pay would be nice, it creates a purpose and a goal and I am my own boss. I work when I want to on it, force myself sometimes when doubts get me down, and I have no one looking over my shoulder. If I get published one day great, I will have found my calling. If I don't, then atleast I can't say I didn't give it all that was within me.

Being engaged to a man that struggles with the same mental problems as I do is a lot like scrambling eggs, but he truly loves me. He loves my kids. He would never physically harm me. We have a lot of fun together most of the time. But now that the ring is on my finger it appears he has some form of a June Cleaver hope for my abilities as a future wife and when I don't do something right all hell breaks loose. This is a little unnerving. But the wedding isn't set until sometime next May so I still have time to back out if I see fit. I scarcely see any other future for myself coming about. I know that is not the right reason to marry someone. I've married for convenience before and it doesn't work. To marry for love...I wonder what that is like. Does anyone really do that?? Well in that case, there is only one person in the world I could honestly marry for that reason, and unfortunately that will never happen. If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. I suddenly hate that song.

I ended up having one of those bad episodes yesterday evening. My parents called the clinic and got my therapist on the phone and took me to see her and then took me to the ER planning for me to go to the hospital again but by the time the doctor saw me there I was calmed down so they just gave me something to make me sleep and sent me home. I'm just really tired today. Really depressed. There is no place for me to put my things in my parents' house. They are hoarders, never throw anything away, it's verging on squalor I swear! I had gotten used to having my uncluttered clean apartment all to myself, now I am having to deal with this crap everywhere and dog and cat hair on everything. I plan to do some major cleaning in their house when I get the energy, but they are the kind of people that don't like their stuff rearranged or anything. I hate being here. It is not going to work out. I am trying to think of some other options.