Detox

Addiction is powerful.  Especially when its for another human being.  Inside your essence, down to your core, reaching the furthest patterns into your soul.  I have a friend I have known for years.  He was involved with one of my good friends.  I never found him quite attractive but his mind and spirit blow me away.  Every time I speak to him I learn something new.

My lust, his animal beast.  I fell deep into him.  He fell deep into me.  We drowned.  Our animals.  Not caring about the other people around us.  He is in a polygamous relationship and coming from a place of a totally monogamous way of thinking, it can be scary.  He always thought he would be the one sharing men with his woman not that he would fall in love.  Enter me.  Fuck, I love him.  We shackled ourselves to one another and the Virginian, his woman, meant nothing to us.  He was my crack.  I was his cocaine.  It got to the point of complete insanity.

Halt.  His woman.  She is ok with me, I am ok with her.  We understand each other, we know each other.  He blocked himself off from her and got lost in me.  I lost touch with the Virginian.  Fuck.  Too much.  I got lost deeply, fully to this man, to where I was seeing myself in the mirror looking back at his face not mine.  Scary.

Time for a detox.  My ex is going through some stuff I love him too.  I love the Virginian. He hasn’t spoken to me in a while.  I got lost in my good friend, we fucking blew the heavens open with our lust.  Being monogamous isn’t for me.  I know that now.  My friend wants to marry me and his woman.  I want to marry him.  I want to marry the Virginian. Fuck.  I love my ex.  We share a special bond too.  Three men in my life.  Three different loves.

Have to focus on one at a time as I juggle the other two.  As sinful and as crazy as fuck this is. I am one lucky woman.  I am beautiful.  I am loved.

Detox.  Time to focus.

Posted in Bipolar | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Detox

Addiction is powerful.  Especially when its for another human being.  Inside your essence, down to your core, reaching the furthest patterns into your soul.  I have a friend I have known for years.  He was involved with one of my good friends.  I never found him quite attractive but his mind and spirit blow me away.  Every time I speak to him I learn something new.

My lust, his animal beast.  I fell deep into him.  He fell deep into me.  We drowned.  Our animals.  Not caring about the other people around us.  He is in a polygamous relationship and coming from a place of a totally monogamous way of thinking, it can be scary.  He always thought he would be the one sharing men with his woman not that he would fall in love.  Enter me.  Fuck, I love him.  We shackled ourselves to one another and the Virginian, his woman, meant nothing to us.  He was my crack.  I was his cocaine.  It got to the point of complete insanity.

Halt.  His woman.  She is ok with me, I am ok with her.  We understand each other, we know each other.  He blocked himself off from her and got lost in me.  I lost touch with the Virginian.  Fuck.  Too much.  I got lost deeply, fully to this man, to where I was seeing myself in the mirror looking back at his face not mine.  Scary.

Time for a detox.  My ex is going through some stuff I love him too.  I love the Virginian. He hasn’t spoken to me in a while.  I got lost in my good friend, we fucking blew the heavens open with our lust.  Being monogamous isn’t for me.  I know that now.  My friend wants to marry me and his woman.  I want to marry him.  I want to marry the Virginian. Fuck.  I love my ex.  We share a special bond too.  Three men in my life.  Three different loves.

Have to focus on one at a time as I juggle the other two.  As sinful and as crazy as fuck this is. I am one lucky woman.  I am beautiful.  I am loved.

Detox.  Time to focus.

Posted in Bipolar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Pure Lust

lustInsatiable.  We feel it.  For most of us its controlled, only because of what “society” deems acceptable.   With 50 Shades of Grey, the whole S&M thing got totally blown out into the open.  What do we like about it?  Danger.  It scares us and excites us.

My “beast” is a special girl.  I have separated my sexuality in two parts.  The split is there because she is a danger to me.  I wear a mask everyday and what’s underneath is an animal.  I have been exploring this lately and I am shocking myself. Danger.  She likes to be choked, to be restrained.

You know men have wanted me.  But not in this way.  Not in this way.  This sends chills up my spine.  Being bipolar, I can reach heights, (as am sure most of us really can), of pure ecstasy that no “normal” person can feel.  Is it really part of the mania?  Its like being coked up without the drugs.  The shit is fucking incredible.

I am going to explore it.  I am going to enjoy doing it.  Hell, it will get me out of the depression.  I want to drink to numb it out because, fuck, its so strong.  She is an animal. She is a beast.  She scares me.

If I were me, I would fuck the shit out of myself.  That’s how sexy she is.

Fuck.

Pure Lust.

Posted in Bipolar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Bipolar Itch and Waiting to Exhale

There is that itch you get that you can’t scratch.  Its in the back of your brain, deep  in your heart or locked in the fathoms of your soul.  Bipolar can make you see things, but how does it work in relationships?  I have been Waiting to Exhale, and for those who never saw this Whitney Houston gem of a movie back in the 90s its about women waiting for that infamous shoe to drop where we meet the man of our dreams.

To be honest, I think I am feeling a bit restless.  That great love seems like an exercise in futility.  It almost seems barren, like my uterus.  Yeah I said it.  My ex got his ex pregnant twice and in the 5 years we were together, Nothing.  It is a blessing.  I didn’t want a kid by that douchebag anyhow.  But I digress.

I am in a state of extreme ease.  Like the calm before the storm.  Maybe all the drinking has numbed me out.  Yeah I picked up the bottle again, after a few months of taking it easy with it I started drinking again.  Fuck I just deleted three sentences.  God what in the fuck. Stupid laptop.  What a waste of money, this piece of shit.

Fucking mundane life.

The bipolar itch.

Maybe that Skype sex date I have later will wrestle me out of this.  Did I forget to mention I started cyber fucking one of my close friends?  Yeah.  He makes me beautiful.  At least someone does.  But that’s for another time.

The bipolar itch.

The Virginian.  Waiting to exhale.  I honestly don’t think he is the one.  I am settling again. I know I am.  Too much in my head.  Waiting for that other shoe to drop.  Dam,  I need to make sense of all of this.

Stay tuned.

Posted in Bipolar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Clarity and Chaos

clarityTwo opposing forces?  I don’t think so. Divine truth.  Whatever runs through my head, the tears that fall, or the mountain of emotion that invades my spirit and my heart all leads to Truth. My thoughts today are clearer.  Clarity in the direct center of all the Chaos.  God help me as I try and understand this.

We are so small.  We are all gods.  In our own hearts.  That blade, as I drag it across my skin can end any inkling of hope I had of this world.  Where do I belong?  This isn’t even a rat race.  I have been conducting exercises of futility.  Results aren’t changing because I haven’t gotten up off of my fat ass to do anything about it.  The drive.  Oh that drive.  Was I always manic when I was younger?  Is that what helped me lose the weight and hold jobs for all those years?  I wonder.  People.  Interesting creatures.  Doctors.  Even MORE interesting.  Oh but they don’t know what the fuck they are talking about.

Being in this state.  I am ME.  Fucked up little bipolar me.  If that’s what they call it.  Life in the mundane.  You know working every day really screwed with me.  I felt like putting a bullet in my head.  So unhappy.  Where does it end.  I have to go back to work full time within a year.  The Virginian.  My future.  How do I tell him I am a lazy bum?  Eventually he will find out, and of course leave me.

The Drive.  Oh how I miss it.  Unmistakable ambition.  Oh.  I am capable of it.  The ruthless ambition.  Its in me.  But where?  This universe cannot hold me.  I want to live among the stars.  I am Stardust.  Just flying through space that is bottled because of these fuckin’ pills.  They have me stable.  But do they really help?  I am at my best when I am unstable,  Sure, I can’t control it.  But wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could?

Controlled Chaos.

The Ultimate Clarity.

God hear me.

The universe is calling me.

Posted in Bipolar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

OKCupid and Masochism, Why Do I Feel Like Getting Rejected Today?

So yeah, I went there.  Ugh.  Just another way to get rejected.  I have the Virginian, but I just had this curious need to go back to OKCupid and see what was out there.  (Insert drumroll, now crickets).  What?  I looked at some profiles and sent two, count them two, well thought out and funny messages.  And you know what I get.  No response.  Its amazing.  If you already feel like shit about yourself, the thing you could do to make yourself feel worse is actually put yourself out there to another human being, and have them hit “Delete.”

Eh, its for the best anyway.  I have so much shit on my brain, so much baggage.  Being bipolar and badshit crazy won’t mesh well with the “Crossfit” guy.  But oh, he was cute. Love the beard!  But the Virginian has the beard.  Fuck.  What the hell am I doing?

Excuse me while I go slap myself in the face for the next 20 minutes or so.

Ok.  So why do we do it?  Are we masochists? I think on some level we are.  We sit there and think to ourselves as we are typing away our message to this stranger, (who is probably a huge douche anyway), “he’s gonna like this, and oh, I am so funny, he will respond right away”.  Yeah right.  Women hardly send out messages so how dare these dicks not respond!?  (Ravenous scream).

Its alright.  Get mad.  Get mad at me guys out there if you’re out there reading this right now.  I am going to be really sexist today.  Sexist Sunday.

It’s ok, I’m just some fucked up bipolar chick anyway, my opinion doesn’t really matter. Or does it? Hmmmmmmm.

Stay tuned.

Posted in Online world | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Turning the Corner, When Not to Give Up

Light TunnelYou know a lot of my posts have been rather dark.  Not really inspirational, but coming from a place of pain.  As I look across the Winter Sky, these stars looks different than they were 15 years ago.  Wow, has it been that long?  Back then my life had begun to make sense.  I got rid of the drug dealing fiancee, lost about 50 pounds, had a great blossoming career, and a crush on a debonair older man, (not bad for a 20 year old huh?).

But through alcohol and my bipolar demons all that came to a screeching halt and I have spent the past 15 years trying to recover and figure out what in the fuck went wrong.  Men. Ahhh, men.  Complex creatures aren’t they?  The say women are hard to figure out, but God, men are just as difficult.  Guarded fellows, some looking for the next lay, its hard to understand what their motivations are.  The ones thinking with their penis are pretty much simple creatures, but I go for the loner, complex, and brooding type.  This has always been my type of man.  The ones with no friends, doesn’t watch sports, and just stays locked in their own world.  This type of man I can relate to, because even though they may seem anti-social and shunned from society, as a misfit and often misunderstood myself,  I understand them and they become quite a challenge.  Also, they are usually fuckin’ brilliant!

This type of man is usually 10-15 years older than me.  Not this time.  The Virginian.  He is a mere one year older than me, but has reached my level of maturity and understanding where so many of his peers are struggling to catch up.  I have lived ten time lifetimes in my 34 years, and as I approach my 35th birthday, things through my lens of the world are very different than they used to be.  My focus now is my weight.  I really have to get it down before I attempt another job.  I need my confidence back. I am so beautiful but I do not see it at all.  I am broken most of the time, and through my writing, I have expressed some really deep shit.

Suicidal and lost, the bipolar fucks with me.  After 8 years of being stable, (if this is what you call stable), I feel the anti-psychotics wearing off.  Drinking doesn’t help, I know this, but as bad as that sometimes gets, the clarity is a gift.  My dark secrets.  Never in my life did I expect anyone to accept them.  The Virginian does.  No matter what I throw at him, the darkest of the dark, the desire to die every day, he has me holding on for a future and a better tomorrow.  “You never know what’s around the next corner,” he says, and you know what he is right.

We are dark.

We want to end it all.

But there is hope.

Here’s to the Bipolar.  Let it not break me.

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment