I realize that I am not living with bipolar disorder.

It is living comfortably with me.

It is running and may I add, ruining, my life. I am almost 42 years old and I am accountable for nothing. I don't accept any responsibility for anything because I have nothing to be responsible for. The only consistancy there has been in my life is my husband and children...and even those can be pulled out from under me at any time. One fuck up. That's all it takes. One big fuck up.

I am infamous for fucking up.

The more I think about it, I realize that I have been this way my entire life. I never gave any thought to consequence or responsibility. I just said, "this is me, and if you don't like it, tough shit". And I truly believed this was just my personality. I hurt so many people along the way...so many. I never played the victim. I just didn't give a shit. Whatever happened happens and that's the end of the show, folks. Baddum bump. The end. If you didn't like what I was doing, fine, submit a 10 page letter stating why I should give a rat's ass and then watch as I dump it into the trash, along with your feelings. pish tosh. done.

Bang bang, CP's silver hammer
came down upon your head.
Bang bang CP's silver hammer
made sure that you were dead.

Did I ever tell you how much I love the Beatles? I do. I feel there is a lot in their music that I can relate to. Not 60's beatles, but rather 70's beatles, you know, once all their acid had been dropped and the drug craze was ablaze and alive and well in the US.

Oh darlin' please believe me.
I'll never do you no harm.
Believe me when I tell you
I'll never do you no harm.

These are the lies I tell myself. I will do you no harm, CP. I will take care of your body and your mind. I will do my very best to make sure that the next 40 years are quality years. And I lie to myself in the mirror every morning. This is going to be the changing day, I say. I listen to Dr. Phil saying "I want you to get excited about your life!"

And I really want to, Phil. I truly do...but I can't.

You see, my wiring is fucked. I don't react to things the way I should. I'm no sociopath, Phil. I won't end up in prison for hurting someone...if anything, I would end up there for hurting myself in some sabotage like fashion. I do that, Phil. I sabotage myself all the time. I put blinders on when it comes to consequence and allow my tunnel vision to rule me.

So forgive me, Phil. I can't get too excited about my life.

This is a bitch, because I have a great life otherwise. I have this happy family. Shiny happy family. Everyone is healthy. I have this big house that sometimes people get lost in. It's cool. You have to actually scream across the house to hear one another. I have a den AND a living room. Three bathrooms. Two car garage. I have an office space for my husband and I. My children all have their own bedrooms. I have two dogs, two cats and a big fucking yard. It's full of dogshit and the grass grows beautifully in it.

I'd like to be under the sea.
In an octopus' garden...in the shade.

So why am I so miserable?

I can't hold down a fucking job. I can't. I literally struggle when I leave my home to go to a job. I have anxiety attacks. I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like if I wander 20 feet away from my husband that I am choking to death. My chest caves in and I feel like I can't manage without him around.

I want you.
I want you so bad.
I want you.
I want you so bad it's driving me mad,
it's driving me mad.
She's so heavy...

I suffer every single day of my life with this affliction. And when things are going well, I will do something purposefully to make it go bad. When I write it that way, it comes out all wrong. I don't do it on purpose. I do it subconsciously. Does this make any sense? I don't do things with the intention of hurting myself or my family. Like, I don't plan it out in advance...I just do it. I know it's wrong at the time, but I can't stop myself. I can't get a grasp on what I am doing until after it is done. God forbid I don't get caught doing whatever I am doing the first time around. I will just do it more and more and more until something finally happens. The bow breaks and the cradle falls.

When i find myself in times of trouble,
mother mary comes to me.
speaking words of wisdom.
let it be.

And I try. I do. I try to make concious decisions for myself. It's an effort. I really have to pull my whole being together and focus on the task at hand. In that aspect, my mania kills me. It doesn't allow me to be rational. That's the painful part. When I am at a plateau the way I am right now, I see all of this so clearly. It's perfectly transparent and I am definately a textbook case, erring on the side of eratic. I try so hard though. I do. I look for the good. It's hard to find sometimes. It's just not clear enough for me to see on some days and on others, it is too clear. It's like looking through a foggy window and the windshield wipers allow you to see...and then not see. Then, see again. It goes back and forth that quickly...and I can't find my way through the storm.


Here comes the sun.
Here comes the sun.
and I say,
it's alright.