At the time of this post, I have been awake for over 24 hours with no sign of stopping. I am definately in full out manic mode. I am cleaning the house, hosing it down to get all the little spider webs off of it. (no commentary from the treehuggers please. if you want spiders on your walls, fine by me. i prefer to have mine web free.) i am doing dishes, cleaning countertops, on my fourth load of laundry and i must have screwed my husband at least six times this weekend. not his doing. mine. me pursuing him. again. manic. notice that when you add an "a" it becomes maniac? slowing down means stopping and i am not quite ready for that. we've enjoyed a kidless weekend thus far. sammi is on a cruise with her husband. my son is with his father for the weekend. the house is quiet without them...and noisy again when i am screaming my husbands name. i know this is part of my acting out...but its the part of my mania that benefits him as well. i have a guilty pleasure. i deeply enjoy oral sex. not getting it, though i like that as well, but giving it. i can stay down on my husband for literally hours. again, part of the mania. i have to be perfect. have to be the best at everything. have to make him so sore he can't walk the next day. can't be the best if he can walk, right?

i suppose its better than the things i used to do to myself. i used to cut. bleed. rip open scabs, make scars. binge. purge. drive recklessly and spend recklessly. i was out of control. i have found that the mix of lamictal, prozac and geodon are doing wonders for me. the depression isn't nearly as bad anymore and the mania is manageable to say the least. the only exception is the libido thing. its supposed to shut down a little. mine won't. its becoming a bone of contention (pardon the pun) between us.

most men would say to my husband, what the fuck is wrong with you? you have a wife that wants to fuck you 24/7 and this is an issue?

the answer is...yes. its an issue.

he's supposed to fix the cars. i won't let him. i'm fucking him. he's supposed to do things for work. i won't let him. i'm fucking him. he wants to take a shower. no deal. im going in with him, because i want to fuck him. he wants to sleep? i dont think so, lover. i'll be blowing you until you faint. no sleep for you tonight. not until i am ready to let you sleep...and i am an insomniac so fat chance there.

it IS a hinderence if you can believe that. It really is.

I get angry if things don't go the way i want them to. i want candles. i am in a black bustier, black high heeled pumps and a t-back. my hair is pulled up. slightest touch of lipstick. and i want him to drop down to his knees and crave me.

the only thing is...how do you crave something you get every single day?

you love pizza. its your favorite food. you will eat it for two or three days in a row, because pizza tastes so damn good. there are different varieties of pizza, so that is always nice. nice to switch it up now and then. but after awhile...how much pizza can one person eat? breakfast. pizza. lunch. pizza. dinner. pizza. snack. pizza.

after awhile, you cant possibly want pizza anymore...if ever again.

so i try to stop myself from behaving this way. i cant. i force feed my husband pizza constantly, so long as the mania is in overdrive. this is not to say that i only want my husband when i am manic. my husband is a beautiful man. he is 5'11, 225 and dark complected. he shaves his head bald and has a dark black goatee. his eyes are an exquisite and soulful shade of brown. he has these beautiful thick pillowy lips. long eyelashes. a long, straight nose that gives his face a hard, fierce look. his body. dear god. he has long legs with dark black hair on them. not too much, not too little. he has a stunning chest that has the perfect amount of soft black hair on it and it travels down to his navel and then branches out over the most perfect...well, you get my point.

My husband is exquisite. And, if he isn't your type...i could care less. in my eyes, he is the sexiest man alive. it isn't just his looks. it's his way. the way he is with people. he is gentle, kind, thoughtful and loving. he is very sensitive to people and their feelings. he is a boyscout when it comes to getting back too much change or calling back a wrong number to let them know they got the wrong number. he stops for people who are stuck on the side of the road. he tips more than he should, even if the service is poor.

in essence, he is my polar opposite.

i am an utter and complete bitch compared to him. the most beautiful thing about him is the way he is with our children. by my sons own admission, my husband is his best friend. by my daughters own admission, he is the best father a girl could ever ask for. he checks his daughters oil, gets her gas, makes sure her car is perfect so that nothing will ever happen to her. he spends long hours with my son, playing cars with him...online gaming...watching cartoons...whatever my son wants, my husband is up for it.

so why do i abuse him with the demands? because i am greedy, controlling and cannot bear the thought of him thinking of anyone else but me.

rationally i know it is ridiculous. you cant expect a person to function in the everyday world while your mouth is firmly attached to their dick. eventually, i get depressed and this behavior stops. however, since the depressive episodes are getting fewer and far between...the manic episodes have increased. It's either manic...or just regular me. In either instance, i am overwhelming this man. he is eight years younger, but has never been able to keep up with my sexual prowess.

few men have.

i wonder if this is something I should be discussing in therapy. i suppose it is...but i have this tremendous fear of my therapist saying something inappropriate like you read in newspapers. i would have to kill him, and i am not up for a murder charge any time soon.

i am so tired. so damn tired.