I’m Going To Give All My Secrets Away

Foreword:  Trigger Warning!  The following topics include very sensitive subjects.  If you suspect that you may have a trigger contained within, please refrain from reading.  Reader discretion advised.

Blink.  Blink.  Blinking away.  The cursor sits at a standstill while I stare ahead, poised, awaiting the words to flow out of my mind, through my arms, and out of my fingertips.  Nifty title for some heavy stuff.  And though there is plenty of content, I have no clue how to provide an introduction.  A part of me flinches, and I find my fingers stiffening in hesitation.

No, you’re going to do this today.

Awhile ago, The Voice emerged from the jumbled noise in my head and spoke to me again.  The Voice was back at feeding my paranoia and preying on my fears.  I cannot understand how this conflicting persona came to be, though I tried to make sense of it in a theoretical psychology essay entitled, “Conscious, Subconscious, and Extraconscious”.  I can only recall the emergence in my early teens, probably nearly coinciding with the onset of symptoms.

The Voice had never become external to myself.  Until late April, mentioned in Lulu-Lunacy.  Moments in time started happening where The Voice had taken on a complete audio hallucination.  It had gone beyond paranoid delusion into a complete distortion of my reality.  I would have believed that The Voice was a real external entity.  It sounded as real as someone sitting next to me on the bus, whispering in my ear.  The words were loud, crisp, and clear.  But, there was no body to go with it.

I knew it wasn’t real, because I had been hearing it for as long as I could remember.  However, I’ve always been able to identify it as a part of my conscious mind.  This was detached.  The words coming out were not words that came out of a deep, dark place.  I had never considered going off of my medication.  I had always regarded them as something that made me better.  Instead, The Voice was telling me that the medication made me dumb, like cattle, so I could be led around by the neck.

That was my first experience with solid psychosis.

I started to believe that some kind of external source was putting The Voice in my head, and had been doing so for years.  I just couldn’t hear it, because I was purposefully not listening.  This reason The Voice was always one step ahead of me was because that external source had been monitoring me for years.  I was chosen.  And it was at this point that they wanted me to finally step up to take back my life from others who were trying to steal it for their own gain.

Yes, it was that real.  Do I still think that?  I have no idea.

Here’s the truth.  I am not one solid person, as I began to mention in Conscious, Subconscious, and Extraconscious.  I have a post drafted about my various personas and how some differ greatly from others.  Really, it’s more of a spectrum.  It’s almost dissociative, but not quite.  A part of me is still present as a spectator while other personas take the wheel.  But, I am almost in a disembodied kind of state.  Sometimes, it feels like I am in a third person kind of state completely outside of myself.  Other times, I don’t feel like I am present at all, and clearly I wasn’t.  Chunks of time go missing and events get hazy.

Sometimes I feel like I am struggling for control of my own consciousness.

Then, there are the pararealities.  I describe them in many of my more lucid, vague sounding posts.  Most of the time, I feel like I am a time traveler.  Except, I am not really akin to Doctor Who or Marty McFly or other time travelers.  I don’t really go from this time period to other time periods.  I live in pararealities.  These pararealities run alongside and often overlap the linear continuum most people reside in.  Here’s a visual representation of reality and pararealities:

To put it in words, I do not experience life and time in a linear way, though I do experience it in the same direction as others.  Time speeds up and slows down.  Some moments last forever, and sometimes days go by with a blink.

The parareality is a reality that is similar to our own, but doesn’t quite operate in the same way.  It’s like living life a millisecond off of everyone else, either faster or slower.  Sometimes, the parareality is a little more detached, like in the farther regions of the red and blue zones.  But, they are adjacent realities overlapping in areas.  More than two pararealities cannot be experienced at once, and although a spectrum may exist, it’s not like a theory of parallel dimensions where there could be dozens totally different from one another.  They are much the same, but it’s often like putting a different lens on a pair of goggles.

I realize that what I am saying is complete insanity.  It’s the realization alone that prompted me to stop writing and start dodging.  Silence fell over me, because nothing I was thinking or feeling really made any sense when propped up against facts.  And then The Voice says, “Or maybe it does.”

It’s a rabbit hole situation.  I am Neo, and I’m opting for the red pill, though I am not entirely sure whether it is going to lead me to the real reality, or deeper into the delusions and hallucinations.  It just feels like I’ve been taking the blue pills too long.  Everything feels so forced.  Life shouldn’t be forced, right?

Now, we get to the sick parts.

I have been keeping secrets.  Apparently, it is what I do the best of all.  I am so skilled at illusion that I can deceive myself without even knowing it to begin with.

Enough with the pomp and circumstance.  Get on with it.

I am still taking my medication, though I do not want to.  I don’t want to drink alcohol anymore, not because alcohol is bad for me and it makes me feel bad.  (It is and it does).  Alcohol is distorting a reality that my mind is already challenging as being real.  That’s all good right?

No, I have ulterior motives.

I am continuing to take my medication and to stop drinking alcohol for a very disturbing reason.  These are all efforts to continue to sustain an obvious mania that has been going on for – since at least late March, but it was a component of a mixed episode at that point.  It didn’t become clear mania until late May.

I am also doing these things to keep my weight down.  Did you know that Wellbutrin has been known to exacerbate symptoms of eating disorders?

Wait, Lulu.  You don’t have an eating disorder.

It’s probably pretty clear to those that have ED.  The restrictive diet, the compulsive exercise, talk of negative body image.  It’s never been something I wanted to admit.  First, I didn’t think that it was a problem.  It’s not, not physically anyway.  Second, even if it was a problem, I didn’t want anyone to catch on to the behavior.  First, because I so fear obesity.  I didn’t want anyone to stop me.  And second, because I didn’t want anyone to look down on me anymore than they already do.  It’s bad enough that I hate me most of the time.  (Unless, I’m manic when I love me).

I binge sometimes when I’m sad.  I purge it when I’m disgusted.  I purge when I’m nervous.  I purge when I feel self-destructive.  I purge when the scale is giving me an unacceptable number.  I restrict when I’m very sad and self-loathing.  I run to run away from all of this, to run away from myself.  I run to see that number plunge.  I restrict to spite myself.  I restrict to self-destruct.

I have an eating disorder(s).

Finally, I am still in the grips of self-injury.

Serious trigger warning ahead.  Pictures.

This one is old. An example of how some wounds just never really heal.

The newest in the collection.

This is the result of what I described in Notes, Vicodin, and Wounds

And I’ve found new ways that don’t involve scarring. I don’t recommend it. It didn’t achieve it’s purpose anyway.

I didn’t leave out the other side either.

I am not proud. I am not showing off. I am not crying out for help, because at this point, I don’t even think I really want help. I am being honest, because my dishonesty was killing me. I’m supposed to be discussing mental health topics. And here we are. The very start of everything. Honesty in the face of the monster.

61 thoughts on “I’m Going To Give All My Secrets Away

    • Thanks hun. It’s pretty ugly, I admit. But, I had to come out with the truth. Even if it was just for me to have something solid to sit down and look at.

      I don’t expect anyone to say anything. I don’t really expect anything. I wanted to finally be honest with someone.

  1. Have you considered the possibility that you may be developing schizophrenia? I really think you should see your doctor ASAP and discuss this with him/her. Print out your post and take it with you since you already have your thoughts written down coherently and succinctly. (This is what I do.) I am very worried about you, Lulu. Please take care and please seek some professional help with this. Self-harm is never the way to go and voices… voices indicate a problem deeper than bipolar.

    • There’s no schizophrenia in my family. I don’t know how I could have possibly have gone from MDD to BP II straight to schizophrenia. I realize that psychosis is a serious thing, and . . .

      Puh, I stopped short because I don’t actually want to say it. I know I’m going to sound awful for it, but I guess it’s important for people in recovery to see the real struggle. The problem is that the symptoms aren’t torturous. I guess what I’m saying is this. I can still see clearly enough to identify things. But, I can’t be convinced that it’s really a problem. I know that’s mania talking. I know mania is a serious thing. But, I’m also pretty sure that is the reason I can’t make myself move on this.

      I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my recent situation. Recent being like last four months or so. In two of those months, I was just – awful. It was awful. It was distressful and murderous to my soul daily. It was a personal hell that I went through. And I can’t identify why it happened. But, I do have some reasoning that seems sensible to me.

      It feels like I’ve been working too hard to go against the tide. Somewhere along the way, I deviated from recovery and started on this path that looked like recovery. Only it wasn’t. It was me mimicking recovery. I was genuinely in a stable episode between the end of October and the end of January. It was like I had never been bipolar at all (I don’t like that verbage, but I’m at a loss right now). And then, well, it gets a little hazy. Because I don’t know how much of that was real.

      So, I’m plodding along, trying to mimic behaviors associated with recovery and good habits. And suddenly, everything just isn’t compatible anymore. Stuff just starts to fall apart, and I’m running around putting fires out constantly. It was getting hard to breathe. And, that’s when I made the realization that I might have taken care of the bipolar disorder, but there are other things to contend with.

      Now, everything is just kind of running buck wild. About a week ago is when I decided that I’m finally just letting go. Trying to recover is making me worse. I obsess about it. Trying to put a lid on this has been driving me to do even worse things.

      I decided that sometimes, there are just some things that a person has to go through. It sounds like absolute crap, I know. It sounds like delusional garbage, and I probably need to go inpatient. And if that’s where I end up, then that’s where I need to go. But, I can’t keep trying to stop the train here. I’m not Wonder Woman (although I sometimes want to fancy myself as such). I know that I buckle under the slightest amount of pressure. I need this to play out. I need a frame of reference so that I can look and say, “Whoa, I’ve been really far gone. I don’t want to do that again.” Because right now, I’m not yet to the point where I can say I don’t want to do this.

      I’m at a point where I don’t want to stop doing this. And that’s the biggest problem. I know that I can only recover if I want to. I don’t think I’m an immediate danger to myself (not of taking my life anyway) and those around me. I’m pretty sure.

      Does it sound like it makes any sense?

      • On the diagnosis part… the major depressive diagnosis was probably incorrect. Many bipolars are diagnosed with depression first, and then it takes an average of 7 years for them to get a proper diagnosis of bipolar. Going from BPII to BPI is not a stretch of the imagination. Bipolars can have psychotic episodes without being schizophrenic. So I want to apologize if I scared you at all. It wasn’t my intention. However, to expand on the BPII to BPI evolution… you are experiencing some classic BPI symptoms: mania, mixed episodes, psychosis. It’s a definite possibility. You are calling it mania, not hypomania, which suggests to me that you have developed BPI. Which means that Lamictal alone is insufficient to treat you. You need professional help, sweetie. Please.

        Things will go buck wild in mania. The origin of the word mania is madness. Ask yourself this: how rational are my thoughts? Mania feeds mania – you want to keep going because mania is like crack and we’re hooked. No way do we want off this ride. But this is not something that will get better on its own – there’s a crash coming but you don’t need me to tell you that. I understand that some things can only be gone through, but beware that often times there is a brick wall from which you can’t step aside and say, “I went too far.” Because when you reach that point you discover that something valuable is broken, and it is irreplaceable and irreparable. I speak from experience. Don’t let this happen to you.

        Please Please Please get some help!

        • I had my disease evolve from BP II to BP I. It does happen.

          Lulu – please – keep us posted. Promise you’ll talk honestly with your doc and let us know how it all turns out. Hugs!

          • I need to make an appointment, but it’s the Fourth, so, I suppose tomorrow then. Hopefully, the medical records lady isn’t on vacation again. I swear to (insert deity here), every single time I need something that’s not a med check from that office, the person I need is on vacation!

        • Oh, I know it’s mania. Hypomania is not sustained beyond two weeks. I’m past the month mark where it’s only been punctuated with alcohol. And the alcohol didn’t really do much but make it violent and mixed. I’m not violent on my own, mind you. I guess if you count the self-inflicted violence, though, which I don’t. Violence to me means I’m aggressive and striking out at others.

          So, you are right. BP I is no stretch. The mixed parts are the worst of all of the mood episodes. I feel like I’ve had mixed ones before, now that I can put a finger on it. And maybe I was minimizing symptoms at the time of my diagnosis.

  2. It is good to be honest and open with someone about these things. I hope that it makes you feel more accountable to work against what you know is not healthy and feel an incentive to stand up to the voice. I experience the disasociation also but not as a constant state. I think it is a part of fighting with reality. Reality must be hard for you right now. I’m still praying for you. With every post I see the situation is deeper and deeper and you are letting us wade in it and more and more it is hard to see the bottom. But drinking, self harm, the pull to escape reality, the psychosis are all just symptoms of a bigger root problem or hurt, something that has become a mental avoidance. You need to peel the onion, or have a therapist help you to get down to the issue that is causing these symptoms. Is there something that you just can not accept? You should ask yourself that. Don’t lets the symptoms keep you distracted from getting to the “why”.
    This is the first time I have seen what you look like. You are a very pretty lady and you don’t have anything to worry about as far as your body image. But I know, it is more complicated than that. I’m here to try to be of some help. (((hugs)))

    • I have been trying to get to the bottom of this for what seems like forever. Pardon me if this sounds a little distracted, there’s a thunderstorm out there. Thunderstorms scare me a little, because when I was a kid, I watched a lightning bolt maul a tree. It was seriously powerful stuff. But, thunderstorms are nice too. My husband and I had our first kiss at the very beginning of one. On the day of our wedding, the thunderstorm was really loud and powerful during the ceremony. But when we walked out of the church, it was bright, sunny, and dry, like nothing had happened. Thunderstorms are significant to me, and they always seem to coincide with a moment of significance. Kind of no coincidence that it’s storming while I’m typing all of this out.

      Anyway, back to where we were. I know some of the issues, and I have no idea how to go about dealing with them. There is a lot of mental avoidance. I have trained myself to jump from the immediate inappropriate reaction to the opposite reaction, deeming it more appropriate. I’m insecure sometimes. But, expressing insecurity is weak, exposes something most vulnerable, and usually frowned upon as a desperate and hysterical characteristic. So, instead of just being vulnerable, I will find ways to either ignore it entirely, or I’ll wall myself up. Because the opposite reaction, which is grandiose self-importance isn’t socially appropriate either. Except, I will let myself get that way in mania.

      It’s really tangled in there. Yes, there are a lot of things I don’t like about myself, and things that I thought I accepted a long time ago, but clearly I didn’t. Everything and anything that’s a BPD characteristic. I want to be wanted. But, I don’t want my existence to hinge upon it. So, instead of asking for love, I pretend I don’t want it, or I don’t need it. I’m not really empty. I’m lonely. I feel like I’m different. Even in a crowd, I can feel alone. I don’t like to be in crowds, not only because I can’t find a readily available exit, but because I feel like there are people watching me, just waiting for me to screw up. I know that’s not true. I am not so internally involved that I believe I would be the center of anyone’s attention. Not even if I wanted to be, which sometimes, I do, just because I have that emotional need. I just want to feel special. Anyway, it’s conflicting. And it makes situations where attention is supposed to be on me difficult.

      So, I isolate to avoid that. That’s been a problem in my writing. It’s easy when I dissociate. It’s hard when I really want to be engaged.

      I mean, i could probably write at least a three post series on the conflicting things going on in there. I realize that I can be conflicting by nature, and that’s okay, because we can all be more than two things at once. I just feel like a damned hypocrite. I want to help people. I don’t feel like I’m in any position to talk, ever. The conflict becomes a stumbling block every single time, because it’s this convoluted navigation. When I was doing the at home DBT workbooks, it was helping. I mean, situationally. It finally helped me navigate to the heart of some things, around all of the mountains that I’ve surrounded those tender areas with.

      But, it’s like that. Anytime I go near any of those things myself to try to unravel the mystery, my brain throws another wall. It’s like, I can’t get at it from any angle. And it makes things worse, because then I start lying to myself unintentionally. Delusions, delusions. It’s like living in a fun house sometimes.

      I’m still working my way up to actually wanting to talk seriously about all of this. I defied myself by putting this up, only because I knew putting it out there would make it real, and it wasn’t something I could lie about or escape anymore. I used pictures on purpose, so that I would have a physical record, and I could not later mince words. The lying, twisting words, manipulation – it’s not me. It’s not a mechanism that even is anything conscious. Maybe it was at one point in time, but not now. And, I feel like I’m at the mercy of myself, so desperate to get a hold on it. But, every single time I try to get a good grip on it, something happens, like it grows spikes or something. It’s too painful to grab at and hold onto.

      I’d like to work some of it out. But, I have no idea where to start. It’s like looking up at Mount Everest with a minimal amount of training and saying, “I want to climb that.” No amount of want in the entire world is going to make that possible, unless I can figure out the mechanics of it.

      • yeah, I understand that. I hope that my mentioning getting to the root and peeling the onion didn’t make it seem that I thought it would be an easy process. I know it isn’t. I think also that you are split down the middle about all of this. Part of you wants to get all this out and conqured but part of you likes the distraction of entertaining all of this surreality. I hope you keep weighing the pros and cons until you as a whole wants the same thing, to live in the reality you are in and make changes from there. I know that doing all of this on your own is too large of a task. That is why I pray. But don’t pressure yourself too much. Just keep opening up what you can and let yourself heal as it happeneds. Just don’t stop trying. Don’t let all these distractions take you under.

        • No, I never thought that anyone thought this would be easy. I don’t know how anyone could think that this would be easy. You’re right about the split. There are moments, like right now, where I’m so lost and overwhelmed that it feels like I’m suffocating in all of this. But, it’s not as clear cut as just the entertainment value. A part of me wants to sustain the few and far in between desired effects of these behaviors.

          Sick, yes. I’m keeping my weight down. The motivation for the physical activity is great, because that coping skill really works. Yes, I take it overboard. But, that’s the tune to which my life dances to – find and strike the balance. The mania, the mania is caused be the sleep deprivation that’s caused by the emotional upheaval. The mania has far reaching negative consequences, I know. But, the mania is also one of the thing that puts the breaks on that emotional upheaval. For a minute, I don’t feel like a complete piece of crap. I feel like I’m the best thing since sliced bread, and it gives me this incredible motivation and self-worth that I need to keep going another day.

          The mania is probably what is causing some of these delusions. Combine with self-persucatory beliefs, paranoia, sleep deprivation, shake vigorously.

          It’s something that feeds into itself. I want to sustain the things that make this less difficult to live with. So, if I start picking at it, then I’m probably going to collapse in on myself. I know that will make everything come to a grinding halt. I can’t afford to stop moving. The wheels have to keep turning, at least a little. I have to keep living my life. I have family that needs me, a job I need to tend to, and a life I need to build. (How am I supposed to do all of those things…etc etc???)

          I do have fears about it. A lot. If these wheels stop turning, what’s going to happen? Will I end up abandoned, like I usually do? I mean, people are serious bastards. Usually when someone shows signs that they are very seriously going under, other people run like hell. I get it. I’m trained in water safety, and I know that there is really no greater water hazard than a drowning victim. If you get too close, they will, in all likelihood, take you down with them. Is that what I am? And then the thought that I’m a “victim” becomes too much for me to even comprehend anymore, and my brain shuts down on me at the very suggestion.

          I will do anything to avoid that “victim” label. I am no one’s tragedy. I don’t even really know if I want to consider myself a survivor. Surviving what? Myself? My own screw ups? Situations that I led myself into because I was naive and ridiculous?

          Will I lose my house? My job? My kid? My family or my marriage? Will everything I had to beg, borrow, steal, and claw my way up toward fall apart?

          I know. I should be telling myself, “If those things would collapse so easily under that menial pressure, then you shouldn’t need them.” I want them. I worked so freakin hard for little pieces of happiness. And just because they aren’t making me happy at the moment (except my son) doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with them. Maybe there is, I don’t know. This is where it gets tricky, because I can’t sort out what is me and what is them, you know?

          My job is not causing me a problem. I am causing me a problem with my job. Different story, doesn’t matter, I’ve figured out how to solve that. It’s easy enough. But, between my husband and me, what the hell is going on there? How much of it is me, and how much of it is him? I’ve come to some conclusions on that, and I decided that I have needs. I can’t change them, and it’s not like I’m asking for anymore than I asked for at the beginning of this whole thing. In fact, I’ve been asking for a lot less since I started treatment. Less and less with each passing day, because I could find a source of some things from within now.

          But, I was knocked clean on my back over the last few months, and I’ve been asking for more. I need more attention. I need more affection. A LOT more affection, because there isn’t any. He’s already admitted that. I need to feel like I’m not the only one who is invested in this marriage, like it’s supposed to operate by itself, or on my efforts and want for it alone. I’m on fumes. I let him know that. I’m not finding any reasons beyond anything fiscal to invest in anymore.

          That doesn’t mean I don’t want it. It means I want the old him back. The one that was eager to listen when I voiced a concern. The one that wanted me so much that he would make time for me. This one expects me. I just… I just hate that. It’s all so reminiscent of the abuser from my previous relationship.

          I’m crying. I haven’t gotten over that abuse. I don’t even know how to do it. I know it affects this relationship sometimes. I had always felt like there was something so fundamentally different about my husband that I would not ever feel the way that I felt in that other relationship. But, I’m so emotionally exhausted. I’m always tense and insecure and worried. I try to shut it down by saying, “If he doesn’t want it bad enough, then you don’t want it either.” I don’t want this. He’s on his best behavior right now, because I called him out on Sunday. But, I know it won’t last.

          Fuckin’ A, Carla. I’m a way bigger mess than I thought.

          • well, I understand the need to live in the high of mania. I did for as long as I could. The feeling of being invincible and feeling like I was on top of it all. the Fake self confidence and all that. I felt like I deserved those feelings after the abuse I had been through. The thing is, that is a big part of the reason I finally completely melted down. I did lose everything. The main thing was I lost a lot of my mental abilities to reason, to even remember what happened a minute ago. You don’t realize how much you mind is exerting while your manic. If you don’t want to completely shut down, you need to give yourself some chance of renewal. But I totally understand that. I being a single mom, who normally couldn’t handle a whole lot of stress, held on to the mania for two years while I made the money, kept up socially, did what I wanted, raised my kids, and kept an affair with a married man going who worked with me, and so did his wife, his mother and sister. He let it out in the open for people to judge me and wait for my downfall. I acted like none of it phased me and kept my head up. Didn’t try to change the situation or do the right thing and get rid of some of the stress. I did good on mania, really good but had to eventually walk off of my job because I was falling apart.
            So, be careful with mania. I’m afraid that you will fall apart yourself if your two sides son’t come together and try to deal with these issues as you can, even though it is hard. I think you will come out stronger in the end. You see the monster and you keep on running from it but at some point you have to turn around and kill it.

            • Yeah, last Tuesday or Wednesday or something, I almost lost complete short term memory. My eyes couldn’t fix on an object too long. Moving was too much of a task, because I had really intense dizziness. I couldn’t sleep either. I tried all day. All I could do was lie there on the sofa and stare at the TV in jittery silence. It was kind of nice to have that day, though. For some reason, it broke the tension of my everyday anxiety. Something snapped where I stopped caring to the point where I was micromanaging.

              Some things in me need broken, because they aren’t functioning well anyway. Like the part of me that overanalyzes and obsesses. I don’t know how that one keeps coming back. I think it’s just, every time I acquire something new, not just objects, but people, anything of value, I worry about losing it. My mother said I was always like that. If I broke a toy or lost one, I would cry nonstop about it for a really long time. I just couldn’t let things go, not even back then.

              I’m getting better. A couple Saturday’s ago, I lost a pendant that I had been wearing for over ten years. It was supposed to be a protective charm, though now that my husband mentioned it, I don’t think it did a whole lot of that. I was wearing it all throughout agonizing relationships and harmful situations. But, three things never happened. I’ve never been arrested. I’ve never been inpatient. And I never had to go live back at home, like all of my friends inevitably had to do once or twice. It really bothered me though. But, my husband was right. It was time to just let it go. It wasn’t doing me any good, really. And there are better things where I can start with a clean slate. (I found this gorgeous, customizable necklace that’s a little pricey, but well worth the money).

              You’re pretty good at this. I can feel myself wearing down as you talk to me.

              I’m also afraid that if I lose the mania, I’ll succumb to the depression again. And then, I won’t have the strength to face the monster. I want to face the monster now, while I still have the energy, strength, and will to do it. But, every single time I try to turn around and jab that thing, I’m just stabbing at thin air. It’s so ethereal. That’s why I tell you about this dissociation. If I believed in possession, I would call it possession. It’s not so strong and solid that I can point a finger at it, but it’s not so thin that I don’t notice it.

              This is a behavioral thing. Because when this was a bipolar thing, I had it nailed. This is not bipolar disorder. Bipolar disorder happens when emotional episodes aren’t completely contingent upon current events. I do have that, and it’s kind of like the undertone for moods. Right now, it’s a manic episode. Before it was a depressive episode. Mixed is kind of beyond me, because I haven’t had enough of recognizable ones to dissect. There are moments where I was so depressed that if someone told me the lottery, I’d still self harm. But, then there are moments that I’m so up that if someone told me that my grandmother died, I’d celebrate. Seriously, she’s almost 86, totally incontinent, mostly chair bound, and relies on her children to care for her entirely. She has torturous dementia. It probably would be a blessing.

              My writing is becoming a mess.

              Here’s the biggest deterrent. i didn’t want to talk about this in a public arena, because I just don’t know about it yet. But, I will, in the interest of full disclosure. I want to have another child. I can’t go on and add more medications when I have to try to get off the ones I’m on already. I haven’t really started any weaning yet, and all of these symptoms happened well before any medication adjustments were attempted. So, I can just throw pills at it. I need to figure it out behaviorally. Besides, I’m not convinced that a different set of pills is going to work out anyway. I feel like medication is just a way of keeping it at bay. I’ll still have these episodes anyway. The cycling has slowed down for sure, and that’s something I like. Yeah, I could probably use an antimanic agent. I’m off topic again. All of the pills that solve bipolar disorder aren’t going to put a dent in this, because it’s not a chemical thing. It’s a behavioral thing. I’m screwed up over a lot of stuff, and when I’m not suffering the ill effects of bipolar disorder, I can see that really clearly.

              I know that starts with a doctor, a therapist, and another evaluation. I’ve made the suggestion here at home, and it’s not favored.

              Yes, go ahead ladies. Say what you need to say, because I know that I’m going to need to hear it. It’s probably what I fear the most.

              Anyway, my husband said something really nasty when I attempted to tell him about these things. “Every time I’m going through something, you’re going through it too, but always worse.” Whoa, whoa, whoa! I denied the charge, but my reality is so distorted that I’m not really sure what’s accurate. And he made a statement the other day about how I’m always “not feeling well” and I always have some kind of complaint and never anything good to say. Carla, do you know when I last had something good to say? When I was so excited to tell him about my first clear Pap smear in four and a half years, and the first signs that I finally beat cervical cancer. And do you know what he had to say about it? Nothing. He went on ranting about his mental issues and work. And when I was upset about it later, he was pissed that I was so insensitive to his emotional state.

              Goddamn it, it’s like that’s all I do is be sensitive to his emotional state. I have to be careful what I say, or he’ll get delusional again, or I’ll make the delusions worse. I can’t mention anything about police, court, or any kind of justice anything, or he’ll get some idea that the cops are coming to arrest him. I just realized that I’m breaking confidence. You know what? I don’t care. I need some fucking reprieve from this.

              And sorry for the god word 😦 I know, why apologize? Why not change it? It conveys a certain message. It went through my head, I don’t normally use the Lord’s name in vain, and I’m really upset and frustrated and all kinds of things.

              Anyway, that was May. That was the last time I had something positive to say. After that, it was about my performance review and getting laid off, and etc. And since, it’s been about my son’s atrocious behavior. One weekend day, I’m going to go have an alone day and leave the two of them together for ten hours and see how it goes.

              I feel like part of the problem is him. But, I am aware of the idealization / demonetization thing. See? This is how symptoms end up so convoluted, because they can’t present the way they were meant to. I want to give a fair chance with an objective point of view. It’s hard when I’m receiving so much criticism in such generalized terms. It makes me angry. I makes me think that he has that entirely generalized to my character.


      • You are working on it even if it’s just a start. I appreciate what I am reading. You do a good job describing what you are going through.

        Have you ever tried hypnosis? It works.

        • Really? I’ve never tried, because I’m not very susceptible to suggestion. Sometimes, my brain catches it and says, “Oh no you don’t.” like with advertising. And sometimes, it just goes right over my head. I need a lot of things to be in my face for me to get it. I’m not really one for the subtle.

          I could give it a shot. But, I’ll have to save my nickels and pennies, because I’m very sure that my insurance will not pay for that.

          • I used to be a very walled off person. And please keep in mind, that anxiety to me is feeling like I left the iron on, I don’t have to deal with what you deal with so I’m not saying “oh it’s easy.”

            You sound like you want help. I really needed to change and the therapist that I went to used hypnosis in her therapy. When I first met her I thought she was crazy but I figured, I gotta get out of this place so i should work with someone who is pretty far out. 🙂 I’m still reading your stuff.

            I’ll say one thing for all the bipolar bloggers I read here, WOW you guys are talented!

            • Oh no, there’s that anxiety too. There is the panic anxiety and then there is just the generalized hum that sometimes gets turned up to a scream. For instance, when I was going through my mixed episode in April and May, I started to notice some tics of mine. They were very pronounced. Some new ones popped up too. The most troublesome tics were the “right place” tic and the “checking”. For instance, everything had to be in a proper place, or I felt like something was going to go catastrophically wrong. And the checking. The checking was seriously the worst. I would sometimes end up calling the day quits between “the right place” and the “checking”. It was just too difficult to get out of the house.

              Then, there was the counting. I started counting, and I started to notice that I have been attaching meaning to sets of numbers for the longest time. (I still do. It’s an ingrained habit.) It was getting bad, like, I’d notice that a bus or train I was on didn’t contain any of my keyword numbers. And I’d get nervous, like, I wasn’t supposed to be on that bus or train. Or, I needed to go home, because I wasn’t supposed to go out today.

              That only flares up when I’m really unstable. And I don’t mean exclusively episodic. I mean when I feel like I’m up and down constantly and I’m coming apart at the seams. It was in that period of time that I really thought I was going to have to go inpatient.

              I’m extremely walled off. I’m trying to stop that. The only reason I’m so walled off is because I can’t stand to open up to someone and have them run off. And then there’s the whole shame factor. I get close to someone, and they start to see the cracks, you know, in the facade. So, I open up to give a glimpse. I fear that if people really got to know me, like this stuff that I wrote about today, then they wouldn’t like me. I’m probably not wrong, but I know I’m not entirely right either.

              Also, it’s because I’m afraid they’re going to find out these dirty little secrets. Almost no one knows about my disorder. And I’m even more hesitant to show my symptoms that I’m experiencing, because they’ve never been well received in my private life. If I can’t be bipolar in front of the people that are supposed to love me, then how can I do it in front of others who don’t know me well enough to discern personality from symptoms?

              Worse, I don’t want anyone to try to “save” me. That’s where the trouble starts. But, it’s also impossible to ask people to be spectators to my self-destructive displays. I don’t want them to see that either, especially not that.

              And thank you very much for the compliment. Sometimes I guess that if God didn’t give me sanity, and he certainly didn’t give me looks, then he must have given me something. I know for sure that he gave me music, because I passed that gene down to my little’en. But, if it’s music alone, then I feel shorted! LOL!

              Admission, do you remember the end credits of Star Wars and how there was this vanishing point? Yeah, that’s my screen right now. I should probably go get a shower and rest my eyes or something. Rest my brain. I don’t know.

  3. You know. I do believe that possession does exist but in your case I would not go that far. I think you are being oppressed by a negative spirit. But as I was thinking about this while eating some dinner, it occured to me that you could be displaying some signs of BPD. I know someone mentioned schizophrenia but I really don’t think it is that severe. In that I mean, I think you have more control that someone with schizophrenia does over their mind. The thing is with BPD, there is no magic pill for it. It is something you really have to learn to keep under control. My daughter has it. She never really tried to get better until she got married. She is in a place where she kind of has to try and control her moods and work to deal with reality. She tries now because she is afraid her husband wont understand. But I wonder how long she can stick with reality. But anyway, has anyone ever mentioned that you show signs of BPD? I mean I am no pdoc, but it seems possible.

    • No, no Pdoc has ever mentioned BPD. My husband, who exhibits signs of BPD has mentioned BPD, as well as friends who have been diagnosed themselves.

      When things were really bad here in April, I started taking “The Sanity Test” on Psychcentral pretty regularly to keep tabs on my head. I mean, it was so off base from bipolar disorder that I was willing to take advice for any psychiatric ailment out there. And that’s when I noticed I was consistently scoring really high for BPD. I know BPD and BP often go hand in hand.

      I think my mother has BPD. It wouldn’t surprise me, because she was apparently surrendered to a foster home in her childhood. She doesn’t recall it. A relative just told her about it. I think my father has BPD, because he had a very abusive parent that also showed signs of BPD, and she lost her mother in childbirth. So, if all of this personality disorder surrounds me, it only makes sense that those maladaptive behaviors would be passed along. I did suffer from abuse as a child, so I guess I fit the bill. But, then again, I didn’t know to describe that as abuse to a doctor, because my parents had brainwashed me into believing it was “discipline”.

      It only seems to be triggered when I’m encountering any situation that resembles an abusive situation. So much abuse in my life. The worst was the sexual abuse, and I am very hypervigilant for that. Ohhh…. I struck a chord. Hypervigiliance. That’s the tension I’m feeling. I feel threatened. How much of it is real, and how much of it is perceived?

      I would say like 80% of the time, I have to question myself on the reality of something when the facts are inconclusive. I learned in DBT that it’s okay to be unclear on something. Not everything is cut and dry, and in fact, most things aren’t. Let it be. It is what it is, no matter how much I might want it to be something else. Just because I’m unclear on something doesn’t mean I can make accurate predictions, because I do not have an accurate perception. That’s why when someone challenges my reality, like my husband telling me that I’m always negative and other kind of shocking things (like, I seriously didn’t think I was that blind), I have to take it as something serious. I know that makes me an easy target for manipulation, and that’s what stirs…

      Holy shit, I just realized the answer. I perceive manipulation because he challenged my reality. And that manipulation stirs paranoia and generalizes throughout my entire life. It makes me start questioning everything from my own subjective stand point, and a very skewed objective standpoint too. I start to make “observations” and “predictions”. So, when my reality doesn’t add up to my observations, I start to think that someone is pulling the wool over my eyes.

      I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you helped me figure it out. I’ve been sitting here all afternoon writing down triggers and their associated behaviors, when the number one trigger for the entire disorder was sitting in front of my face. I had wondered why it was dormant for so long, and then my husband got sick, and then I started to have symptoms again. When he got sick, he isolated. And bang. Here we are.

      • I sometimes get frustrated when I am not sue if I am right about what is real or not. I am the kind that is obsessed with knowing the answer. So, I know what you mean about trying to decide a solution for something that isn’t clear in the first place. I hope I have helped you sort some things out. I knew the more you open it up, you were going to see things a little more clear

        • I mean, everything else that falls in between is complicated. But, there was one clear trigger for the BPD symptoms to flare back up again. Even just thinking about the abuse that has occurred in my life irritates a trigger. I’m trying very hard to be open and descriptive, because my brain buried it so far down. It helps when I am able to reach into a memory I forgot. It’s like popping a blood blister. It’s painful, but healing.

          Maybe the more in touch with the abuse that I am, the less threatened I will feel. I tried to tell my husband about some of it last night, but he wasn’t in a listening kind of mood. Oh well, more fuel for Pendulum. I have a topic for tomorrow.

          Thank you so much! That is exactly what I’ve been grabbing at for months! I knew it was a problem with us both that would not be able to be fixed with a med change. I either need to determine whether there is abuse occurring, or start to break the associations. I don’t know how to do that. Either of them.

  4. This is a courageous post . . . *hugs*

    I think it’s possible you could be having a brief psychosis. Or not so brief, perhaps, since it’s been over a month, way over. (You can read a little about that here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brief_psychotic_disorder.)

    A lot of what you say here and in your comments seems to echo a brief psychotic episode I have. That’s why I bring it up. I didn’t have hallucinations, but I had delusions. I was convinced that I . . . well, I talk about it at length at the beginning of this post: http://themirthofdespair.wordpress.com/2012/04/03/mistakes/ (And I cringe even now reading that . . . I had the audacity to write that? Even now I’m so nervous I want to take it off of public view. But perhaps knowing I can relate a little may help.)

    I do think it’s a miracle I snapped out of it. I just convinced myself one day that I had free will, and . . . this would take a long time to explain. If you’d like to hear about it more in detail, you can e-mail me and I would be glad to discuss it with you privately. Especially if it helps.

    If I hadn’t somehow snapped out of it, I think I would’ve gone on as long as this spell you’re describing. Perhaps longer. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been able to fight it.

    I could see clearly enough to appear as if I was functioning in life. It mimicked rationality enough for me to think it could be true even though a part of me knew it might be ridiculous. But when I put two and two together, it didn’t seem like a far-fetched theory, the delusion I was having. I know precisely how it came about. It felt like an aha clicking moment, and then I was afraid, even thought I intuitively felt, that it was true. Again, I can talk more about this with you in an e-mail, if you’d like . . . I will describe it all to you if it helps. It would be nice to tell someone, in a way, but I’m not ready to go public with it. I’m not sure I ever will be.

    Anyway, please hang in there and get the help you need and deserve.

    • I remember reading the post. I remember thinking what my daddy always told me. He said, “If you think you’re crazy, then you’re probably alright. It’s just when you get to thinkin’ that there’s no way you could be crazy. That’s when you should worry.” It’s hilarious, but it makes perfect sense. At least if I’m still questioning it, then there’s some hope. But, if I’m not, then I’m clearly beyond my own power to help myself.

      I don’t think it’s a brief psychotic disorder. I’ve been generally delusional in one way or another for a very long time now. It comes and goes. Such is the nature of mania and BPD, other people tell me. Delusion is something that if it’s strong enough, it can produce hallucination, or at least that’s what I understand from my own reading and what I hear from professionals.

      I know I’m not functioning well. When all of this started, I was really having a hard time even going to work. And at work, I’ve been doing the bare minimum. I only work three hours a day, what does that say against a “normal” person’s functioning? I mean, it’s clear to my boss that my performance is really out of whack, and she was kind enough to put it very professionally in my performance review. She basically gave the same thing back to me that I gave to her in my self-review. It’s kind, but I don’t know if she buys it as the whole truth.

      The only thing I can really focus on is my son. It’s like, somehow, when I know that I have a job to do, everything else gets pushed aside. I can (usually) go on about my domestic duties without too much of an issue. The exceptions are when sleep deprivation from insomnia has gotten to epic proportions, and I have vertigo. Weird things happen. My vision gets weird. Like, yesterday, when I was writing responses to this and other posts. It started out with the screen just kind of looking like there was a magnifying glass bar going through it. And then, I was reading the words as I typed, but it looked like they were all backwards. Finally, they looked like the end credits of Star Wars. Enough was enough there.

      I really don’t know the difference between hallucination and perception disturbance. Are they the same thing? Because if so, then I have a hell of a lot more hallucinations than just that one. I have them at least once daily, usually in audio, but sometimes in vision too.

      • You know, I’m reading this and I’m @#$%!#$!!!!!! I told my original doctor about these perceptual problems. I’ve always kind of “heard voices”, but I can usually pick them out as something that is part of me. I mean, I don’t feel like I have much of any control over them (sometimes them, but usually singular). Sometimes, a person can find me screaming, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” when I think I’m alone and in a bad way.

        But, it’s only been in the last five or six years that I’ve had the visual ones with any frequency. That’s one of the original reasons I saw a doctor in the first place. I was seeing these dark shadows in my peripheral vision. Sometimes, I see cats. I joke, but I really do think I have ghost cats. It’s never really anything solid that I see, it’s just a disturbance.

        Like, during what I can identify as my first psychotic episode, I knew it was coming. I could feel it in my head like a literal switch. It even sounded like a switch, like the snap of a light switch that hasn’t been broken in yet. It was a “clap” and then everything looked different. Everything made a sound, and the world was soooooo loud. I could hear my own heartbeats. I could hear everyone breathing around me and all of the murmuring voices. Time shifted, and everything was at a very uneven tempo between slow motion and fast forward. I remember being on the subway (sometimes I refer to it as “the train”), and we were coming up to the station that’s four stories above ground. The light was blinding, and then it relaxed to leave this glossy sheen on everything. Everything had it’s own life.

        I remember looking onto the opposing tracks as I walked by them, wondering what it would be like to jump out in front of the speeding train. It’s kind of the same feeling that people sometimes get when they stand on a bridge or a building, this urge to jump. Why, I will never know. It’s not a death wish, but just this impulse that comes out of nowhere. I’d never do it. I know better. Besides, if I was going to go out, I sure as hell wasn’t going to be on the 5 o’clock news!!!

        But, I got out onto that windy platform, and the world was roaring. Everything kind of crackled with this static electricity. The wind hurt. The sun hurt. My senses were overloaded and my brain could see everything in the entire universe right before it. Now, that last statement, I’d have to spend a lot of time trying to describe that feeling. It’s both awesome (not cool awesome, but literally leaving me in awe) and excruciating. Like, if anyone here has watched Doctor Who, it was like when Rose looked into the the heart of the TARDIS, so she could go back to save the Doctor and Captain Jack. I won’t say anymore than that, just in case anyone hasn’t seen it and wants to. But I’ll leave the rest of us with the words, “Bad Wolf”. It was like that.

        • This somewhat resonates with me. For the past year or so, I’ve been seeing shadows in my peripheral vision. Usually they look like flying insects. I figured I was just jumpy from the anxiety, but perhaps it’s an indication of something more. I’ve even mentioned it to the therapist in passing, and she opined that it was probably anxiety.

          Here’s something I’ll admit to: my original “delusion” that I snapped out of, sometimes I still become afraid it’s true. It’s only through suppression that I keep it out of my head . . . it’s hard to describe, but I have the ability to deceive myself through logic even in the face of something that’s true. Lately, when I read anything, I have to look twice because sometimes I read a completely different word than is there. I thought maybe it was because I’d gotten used to reading a lot of developmental writing in my job . . . but I also sometimes think my brain randomly anticipates something then expects it to be there.

          I’ll e-mail you in a little bit. There’s more I want to tell you about this subject, but some of it is very personal–not just for me, but my family. I don’t mind telling you in confidence, but even though I’m anonymous, I don’t think I have the license to plaster every single dirty secret of my family on the internet. I might be found out one day, too.

          • There’s a trick with my eyes too. I’m trying to remember it. My brain has dirty little ways of conveniently forgetting things when appropriate. Something I don’t read or see right. Of course I wouldn’t really remember, I don’t really see it right! It’s something I have to double check as well, but I don’t think it’s word anticipation. Money? Numbers. My brain screws up numbers really badly. When I’m reading a phone number, or really any string of numbers, I have to check and check again. I’ve gotten a little better about it, but it’s always been something my brain couldn’t process. I used to screw up in math because I would invert digits.

            I can’t believe I actually had to talk myself into remembering that. Yes, I realize I could have edited that all away. But, I’ve also realized something else. Right now, this is my only written record. I’ve gotten lazy about keeping my personal journal, just because it’s not the most interesting project and it’s really time consuming. And, I can’t afford to edit. That’s what really nice about print, because I can’t just erase that in the blink of an eye. There would be a mark or something to note that it was changed. I need to represent myself and my mind frame very accurately right now. It might be the only depiction of this I’ll ever really have.

            I’ll email you my personal address. For personal communications, I’m using a separate address so that I don’t have to fish through email for them anymore. They were getting lost in the pile, and my android can’t take that constant barrage of emails that my blackberry could. It kills my data and battery. I only sync my tallulah address when strictly dealing with blog stuff. But, the address is directly synced into my phone. That’s why I will continue to have it as unlisted for the moment anyway.

    • Thank you. I really feel like there’s a weight that’s come off of me. With everyone’s wonderful support, I’ve found a little extra courage to really look certain demons in the face to see them for what they are.

    • It’s really been something that was a long time coming. Part of it was that I just couldn’t find the words. The other part was the part of me that was stopping me. If that really makes any sense, LOL. I couldn’t face it, and I didn’t even know that there was something to face really. I’m still grappling with the very serious reality that I stumbled upon today. I have been psychotic. I probably am psychotic. It’s just, the hallucinations in indescribable, and so incredibly subtle.

      Really, thank you so much for your show of support.

      • Lu….Your story and recent revelations are so interesting. I really hope you won’t close up and shut us out. So many of your followers adore you, if even from a distance. Touching lives knows no distance anymore.

  5. Pingback: The Unreality « As the Pendulum Swings

  6. I have such mixed emotions about this post – concern, sadness, empathy to name a few, but I am also so glad that you have found a way to express some things that may have felt as though they were eating away at you from the inside out. I think what I’ve learnt most about myself through my treatment so far is how important it can be to get your thoughts out.. especially when they’re as deep and as circulating as they seem to be for you. I don’t know.. maybe, you feel like you can handle them yourself, but I know the more I live with my own mind, in my own head, the more chaotic things get in both my inner and outer world.

    I can really relate to a lot of that in this post. Stay strong my dear! xo

    • Thank you.

      I know I’m going to have to go lay all of this down in front of my doctor. I don’t know what the hell to do, honestly. Do I call the office and tell them that there’s serious stuff going on? And how is my family going to react to this?

      I’ve decided that I’m going on with a clause of full disclosure. No matter how uncomfortable is, I’m going to say it on here, whether it’s juvenile, or puts me in a bad light, or whatever.

      I have no idea. There are some things in there that I’ve already said about how a part of me doesn’t want to address this. And there’s even a part of me that is sincerely convinced that nothing is really wrong with me. But, that’s a delusion of grandeur and I know it. I won’t go into that in a comment.

      Please don’t be too concerned. Please know that if I really thought I was in mortal danger, or I was a serious danger to others, then I would check myself in immediately. That’s the problem, is that I don’t see myself as a danger. . . but, I know suicide statistics. Many suicides are not planned. I don’t feel suicidal, let’s not get that mixed up. I gave up on the idea of ending my life a long time ago. But, there are tortured moments were I do have a bit of ideation. Mostly passing thoughts. I’d rather be dead. I should just die. Things like that.

      Wow, I’m sure that did nothing to ease your worry. I have backup plans. I have safeguards.

      • I think a bit of resistance is normal… sometimes it’s genuinely because we’re not ready to go there yet. I think it’s good to aim for full disclosure, but don’t beat yourself up if, for some reason, you’re not able to reveal whatever to whoever yet. You need to feel trust and safe enough with someone and sometimes that unfortunately takes more time than we would like. It’s hard not to wonder and worry about what the repercussions from others will be, but sometimes you just have to say fuck it and do what YOU need to do because these things tend not to just disappear, but accumulate which then tend to fuck things up with the same said people anyway. At least this way there is a likelihood of you coming out less burdened WITH the possibility to reconcile/build/maintain relationships along the way. Be patient with yourself 🙂 xo

        • Thank you.

          I tell myself (and everyone else), this is 15 years in the making. For the greatest majority of the, a cumulative 9 years, I was abused. And I’ve only been in treatment for 3 years. And I mean just pharmacological treatment. No therapy since my big therapy fail in my teens.

          I can’t expect to turn it around in a short period of time. And I can’t expect to turn it around at all until I acknowledge behaviors that have origins in some dark places. Sometimes, for me, I have to force myself to do something good for myself. Especially when my immediate RL support network is thin.

          • Yeah that’s the hard part… that it takes so long to heal, especially when things are in such a state of crisis and all you can think about is needing things to be different now, now, now! But I think this step is huge – that you are acknowledging it all, and I am so proud of you 🙂 You can do this! xx

            • I started my “Crazy Book” last night. I have effectively stopped keeping a journal, and that’s not really doing me any good. But, I still have a lot of backlogging that I can be doing. For now, I’m keeping a separate journal to record symptoms and stressors. Sounds like a journal, in essence, but I don’t feel I’m going to be offering a whole lot of insight like I do in my usual journals. And I won’t be focusing on day to day life either.

  7. Lulu,

    Just reading the first few paragraphs of this post was almost like reading my own words. Your “The Voice” and other personas, very very closely reflect my own “Devil Gang” including the infamous Molly. She acts much in the same was as The Voice. Her words have not become external, yet, but she has sent Them after me. Anyway, it took me a long time before someone listened to me about my Bipolar II, it is not something I want to be, or would wish on anyone, and the label is only so helpful.

    I wanted to thankyou for this blog, I have only read your “about” pages and this post so far, but I can honestly say the things you write I can relate to on a level I never thought possible. So thankyou, just thankyou.


    • You know, if it’s only Bipolar II, my current diagnosis, then I would be relieved. Part of me is terrified that it’s worse than that, and I’ll be seeing myself just kind of wither away as the years go on.

      I am aware of “kindling” and how if I don’t get these symptoms under control, I really will get worse. Undoubtedly.

      Did you write something on your voice? Mine doesn’t really have a name. I guess I try to ignore it enough to where I have not wanted to personify it. I’d love to read your experience. Most doctors have largely ignored my complaints about the delusions, which I have always known to be as such. And I was told a long time ago that my perceptual distortions weren’t hallucinations, basically because I wasn’t seeing people.

      I really appreciate your comment. It makes me feel a little better when someone can relate. It becomes a little less scary.

  8. Even if you don’t want help (and I know how it is possible to admit all these things but not want any) I think you are in some way stepping towards helping yourself just by being honest. Sure, you wrote this for your readers but somewhere inside I think you wrote it for yourself. And in time you will choose to get help. Meanwhile I hope you can at least keep yourself safe but even more so be kind to yourself. You deserve it.

    • I did write it for myself. I have been meaning to write this for awhile. Now, what keeps me writing and not running away is my responsibility to readers. I need to continue to have a level of transparency that I lost over the spring. Why? Because I did not want to accept these things (and even more) as fact. Now, it’s become consuming to attempt to keep my back to it.

      So, when I said “I’m Going To Give All My Secrets Away”, this is me kind of giving them away. I’m putting this huge, dark piece of me out there for everyone to have. I know it’s been startling for some, but I hoped it to be inspiring, even in this awful context. Even for me.

      I need to get my husband on board. And I think I’m just going to have to spill. There’s no other way to go about it. I don’t think anyway. I’m open to suggestions.

      • That’s a really hard one. My ex-hubby and I both really struggled with getting him on board but I know you’re right you do need to do that. I hope you can find a way that spares both of you from unnecessary pain.

        And as for startling some, you’re right some would have been but I don’t see that as a bad thing. Sometimes we need to be startled to realise the extent of others pain. The problem is that it’s painful for you to do that, but I admire your honesty and your guts. Hugs.

        • We spent most of Sunday in this pregnant silence. Well, it was expecting for me, but nothing came out. I couldn’t find my angle. And even when I did, he wouldn’t bite. I get it. He doesn’t want to get into anything heavy on Sunday, because things are heavy enough at work on Monday and throughout the week.

          I need to find a way to work this into a post, because I could use some opinions. But, I just can’t seem to get it formatted in an adult kind of way. I could go on about who did what and who did that, but it’s just so childish. What I’m focused on are the events and behaviors that create communication blocks, and the fact that the lack of flow is choking off the circulation of this relationship. It’s not about venting or ranting anymore. Something in me snapped yesterday. The whole thing overwhelmed me, and I got into it with some guy friends (online, not IRL) about everything that upset me and is upsetting me. And, it was too overwhelming. Something snapped. I just don’t care anymore.

          It’s a tough call for me to make. What is it? A defense mechanism? Did I finally just exhaust all of the feeling out of it, kind of like sucking the poison out of something? Or, is it the usual portion of my solidly manic fits. Over the last few days, I’ve been more mixed than anything. Not surprising, especially when I’m overtaken by the heavy emotion of the moment. And then, it stopped. I had nothing left. Nothing good, nothing bad. Nothing.

          I feel nothing. And not the depressed kind of nothingness. I am the absence of emotion.

          • Maybe you’re actually overloaded with emotion (??). I would recommend you star5t writing, don’t worry if it starts out ‘childish’, it will develop and you can always go back and edit out what you don’t want. I often do that just so I can get my thoughts in some coherent form. You write really well so I suspect once you start writing you will be able to reach what you need to say. Good luck.

  9. I feel like I should say this even though it may seem overly “religious” and cliche’. but I am praying that you will put the large dark piece of you at the feet of God (Christ) and leave it there. But you have to be ready to believe and have faith that God will take it and fill the void. Despite all of the things that come from our complex brain, we are all surrounded by both positive and negative forces. Also, good and evil. Simply put, evil can use your mind to try to destroy you with your past hurts, neglect, abuse, and lack of acceptance.Which all came from evil. God, only wants you to let him work on those things. IF we trust Him to. (((hug)) I still have you on my mind and my prayers.

    • No, I need to include God in my treatment plan. It’s something I largely failed to do. Sometimes, I forget that we need to ask God directly for the necessary tools for us to discover to help ourselves. I don’t believe that God helps us directly, but I do believe that he guides us, gently, like a parent, toward the path we would like to be walking.

      I watched “Letters to God” the other night. You’d probably like that movie, but it’s kind of sad. It made me think that maybe I should start writing my own letters. It’s hard to keep my thoughts together anymore.

      I get distracted for a second, and I forget. I forget conversations that happened earlier in the day, or yesterday. My mother called yesterday to find out if I was okay. It turns out I haven’t called her in five days. And, I thought yesterday was Tuesday, although when I woke up, I knew it was Monday. I was dead set on Tuesday.

      I know there’s something really wrong. At least the wind is largely out of my sails now. I’ll write a post about it this morning.

      • I was afraid that you would be offended by me just coming out and saying that. I was just feeling that giving all of this to God was the thing to do because all of this is affecting you so much and it is still not going to be an easy process get it all sorted out. I believe that if we are his children and trust Him that he will take our struggles and overwhelming burdens for us. But I shouldn’t have forced my faith on you. I believe you can work it out and clear your mind to start over. I will be praying for God to give you strength to be able to do so. I never want to say things that you would be put off by, I just didn’t think about how you would feel if I said what I felt 😉 I will check on your blog later. I am going to take a nap. I was up at 6am to exercise and then had house chores, so I don’t feel guilty taking me a nap this early lol.

        • I may not believe in the institution of religion, but I do believe in God. I will always believe in God, because the evidence of God is all around us.

          I don’t often talk about this in a public forum, but I will, because it’s pretty unusual for most people to review every comment. I have had a rough ride with organized religion in my time, and the politics have interrupted my worship and faith since my teens. When I say in “The 99 Quirks of Lulu” that I am “Jewdistian”, I am meaning that I largely take my concept of religion and faith from both religions. This is where it gets a little hazy, so keep with me. The next statement will shock you. I am Jewish in the right that I don’t believe that Jesus was our savior. There is not enough historical proof to support it. I appreciate his teachings for sure, but I don’t agree with all of them.

          I am Jewish in the way that I don’t believe we actually get second chances in this life. I don’t make sense of Jesus’ teachings about redemption, confession, atonement, and things of that nature. God’s word is God’s law. Certain laws, I believe, are rather antiquated. The Bible was written, not by God, but by prophets and those interpreting God’s law. I don’t believe that God could ever actually speak to a human, lest his ears would not be able to pick up the sound. That’s why God doesn’t speak to us now, because he / she (I don’t believe God has a gender either) never really did. It was interpreted by our ancestors as such.

          Though some laws, the lesser ones in Old Testament, were common sense at the time, but don’t stand today. In the days of old, people didn’t have sex before marriage in order to prevent unwanted pregnancy and the burden of unwed mothers. It was before we had the technology to identify fathers and laws to make them own up to their responsibilities. Now, that doesn’t believe that a person shouldn’t be discriminatory about the morals that govern sex. I believe two people should be in love before they have sex. Sanitary conditions are different now, so the banned foods are fine. And there are a few others that aren’t coming to mind right now.

          The rest of it is just common sense. Wash before you eat. Wash after you eat. Stay away from others when you are ill to prevent the spread of disease. Incest is bad, because it pollutes the gene pool. Don’t drink while you’re pregnant. Be a part of your community and give your fair share of money and time. Respect others. Respect the laws. Be good to people, especially people in need. That’s just common sense good living.

          Anyway, back to the redemption, or lack thereof. I don’t believe a person can screw up, beg God for forgiveness, do it again, beg God for forgiveness, and it’s all water under the bridge. I see a whole lot of people who claim to be good Christians who do awful things. And just by going to church on Sunday, they are cleansed of their sins. Wrong. Especially in laws that are not meant to be broken at all. The commandments, the seven deadly sins, etc. (Except, I think the seven deadly sins are meant to teach us a lesson about moderation as well).

          This does not mean that God cannot forgive at all. It’s just not as simple as saying, “I’m sorry, I’ll try to live a better life.” It’s more like God has a tally sheet. Your sins will weigh against you when you finally stand judgement. Just like when you wrong a person, they can often forgive, but they will likely never forget. And when they are wronged again, it brings the wound back to the surface.

          But, that does not mean the good deeds are overlooked. When a person is set out to live a good, moral life, and dedicates himself / herself to serving God and worshiping God (which, personally, I don’t think it’s as much as “worship” as recognizing God as our spiritual parent, respecting God’s will and laws, and giving our thanks and love to that entity), then the rest should just follow suit. It doesn’t always. We succumb to temptations, and God understands that is human nature. That’s why we’re here right? To experience humanity and take lessons from every life that we live (more on the afterlife and reincarnation later). As long as we are striving to be better, and to do better, as members of the human race (not just of the church / temple), we are always going to find our way.

          But, what if at some point a person falls off the bandwagon and gets chewed up by the moment? We can atone. We can make up for our wrongs by making them right, and beyond. Fixing things for our own salvation isn’t the goal. It’s the selflessness of the deeds that makes it right, good, and just. Too many people are too focused on their own salvation. We don’t do good deeds so that our score card looks good when we arrive on the doorstep of God’s home. We do them because it is how God intended that we live our lives. It makes perfect moral sense when we live in our local and global communities. Do unto others.

          I don’t believe in excuses. And I believe in rare exceptions to God’s law. Though the Torrah and the Bible don’t have much to say on this, I believe in personal relationships with God. Every child has a different relationship with their parent, right? Spirituality is something that is unique and personal for each and every person on the planet. I don’t believe that one religion is the right religion. I believe they are all the same, in that they send the same messages about how to live a good life and do right by yourself and others.

          The afterlife is something that is tricky, because I don’t take that so much from western religion. I believe in a sort of reincarnation. It’s not based on life rank or anything, but it’s based on the lessons that a person has learned in the life that they have lived. There are certain lessons and stages of enlightenment that we have to go through (our souls, meaning) to truly understand the universe. If the lesson has been learned in that life, then we move to the next until we have achieved total enlightenment and have become a seamless part of the universe. If not, we are to repeat the lessons, as any school child would, until we have understood them and embodied them.

          We don’t know how this design works, and we’re not supposed to. It defeats the purpose of the lessons and of the entire process. Did you ever just know how to do something? Did you just ever know a fact or something else that no one has ever taught you? The first time I picked up a gun, I shot at an advanced level. I’m no sharpshooter, but I was better than every other man who had been firing off guns since they were little. Why? Universal and genetic memory. My father was in Vietnam. He qualified sharpshooter in every weapon he ever picked up. My son picked up a water pistol lately, and he can hit a moving target across the yard. It was the first time he had ever even used one. It was a hell of a sight to see.

          It’s part of the universal design. We have the memories and skills of our ancestors. I came from a rather musical family, though neither of my parents ever really sang in the house. Except my father when he was cooking. That man can pick up a melody with only a few notes and pick out a pitch without realizing it. I know he doesn’t know how to read music. He can barely read at all. My son can do the same, but my son can memorize a melody and spit it right back. I can memorize a melody, but since I’ve had some musical training, I can produce a harmony to it too. All on pitch.

          Music is the universal language. The universe makes music too. It’s on youtube. It sounds like noise, but really, isn’t all noise musical in it’s own way?

          I’m rambling now. Anyway, we are supposed to take our talents to the next life with us. And that’s the way of the Universe, which is really God.

  10. You must know from reading my blog that I am not following any religion, or church. I don’t attend church. I just know what happened to me and it was God, so he is my guide. The idea of Jesus dying on the cross, was something I didn’t accept to be fact. I do not believe something unless I have absolute proof of it, usually. Jesus is my only exception because it fulfills in me the completeness of all that God did for me. My thoughts on the bible are quite different than a lot of people. I accept it as a fairly good source of historical events. But, the Old Testament is stories that were told over and over for generations until someone had the means to write it down. There are contradictions and things that just don’t make sense. Then the new testament is written mostly by disciples who walked with Jesus when I believe he was on the earth. I believe there is enough historical documentation to make me believe he was here and that he died for the sins of the world. That and a lot of faith which is something I would never adhere to until all of this crazy stuff had changed in me. It makes sense to me that after centuries of people being told to build a sacrifice for their wrong doings to get forgiveness in the Old Testament, God sending Jesus to pay for all at once. The new Testament is a bunch of disciples and those who called themselves Apostles wrote all of that. Many contradictions. Just the gospels alone were supposed to be written by four men who were there when the events happened and they contradict. Plus there being so much of the same type and date of those days being found all of the time. Many other writings! It leaves me not to accept that the “Bible” is God’s word. It isn’t even a book.
    But I do believe in a personal God and it has been proven to me. That is what I talk of. I am sorry that it was something that totally is opposite of what your beliefs are. I don’t think I have the answers. I am full of questions and doubts about everything else pertaining to God. I have a page called God and me on my Blog.http://carlarenee45.wordpress.com/god-and-me/

    That page is my honest experience over a period of about 9 months. That is all I have to go on. I think I care so much about what you are going through, I want God to give you the same experience as me. But I will stop saying those things in the future. I am sorry, wish you would have explained sooner lol.

    • Hey, the differences don’t matter to me. People make too much out of differences. But, differences are there so people can make up their own minds.

      Just because there are two different opinions on religion, doesn’t mean that two people can’t find a common ground. For me, spirituality is an experience unique to everyone. It’s not one size fits all. We’re all God’s children. Just because we find our own ways to appreciate that and all of his creation doesn’t make another person wrong. Most of us all believe the same moral prinicipals. Live a good life like you might not have another. That’s a life that celebrates the miracle of life itself. It is a life that emulates our Creator, who is just, kind, and wise. And take a lesson into your heart and life each day. Even when they are hard lessons.

      Not everyone believes in Gods of the same name. But, I feel as if, though we call God a different name in each religion, and maybe even split the concept over several personas, we are all still believing in the same God, just interpreting it in a way that we can take into our hearts and lives.

      I think it’s a fantastic thing that we all have our own beliefs. I won’t debate mine. I know they are kind of out there. But, to me, it makes sense. It allows me to embrace my spirituality and have a relationship with God. It was something that came out of a bad run with Christianity and a good run with Judaism. It helped me accept God back into my life, after a long time of doubt.

      I’m glad we both believe. And I’m glad that we can both go out into this world and help others believe that even when we are alone, we’re not. Because God is always listening, whether we know it or not. Just because he doesn’t always answer doesn’t mean he doesn’t hear us. I have my own proof. Call it coincidence, but too many unlikely things have happened at specific times.

      • yes, that is why in my last comment I told you a summery of my beliefs. I don’t want to be mistaken for some “average joe christian” because I have had a bad experience there too. I am certainly not religious. I’m like you, my beliefs seem way out there too. I respect the fact that you are a Jewish woman and I mean that. Through this and a couple other things that has happened, I realized that I have been too pushy with my beliefs. It was only because I care and that is how my life was totally changed and I wanted everyone to have the same experience, but God showed me that it isn’t His will that we all have the same experiences. So, I apologies for being so much of a Bully about it. I care about you and want to be there in any way I can. I will do more listening lol

        • No, I really don’t think it was pushy at all. It’s nice to be reminded about God. Yes, I know that the Jewish people don’t reference God by name, but it doesn’t feel right after years of bring brought up as a Christian. I know that people like me are probably offensive by both religious standards, because I don’t adhere to a lot of the rules of conduct, some that are considered traditionally important. I do love the idea of Catholic confession, though I’ve never been a Catholic. I think it’s something that everyone should experience.

          Catholics get a seriously bad rap for a lot of things. True, there are people who gained power in that sect of Christianity who have done wrong by the people since the Dark Ages. But, I’m sure other religious leaders have done wrong by their people. Catholicism has just been in the limelight for so long, it’s become a bias. I don’t think that their practice is bad. And from what I understand, Catholics are one of the most fiercely loyal religious groups out there. I applaud them. Lord knows that the Episcopalians and Anglicans need some help right now.

          In the days of old, before there were psychologists and counselors, their priest or the rabbi was the community counselors. Have you ever met with a rabbi? They are very wise. Not just insightful, but have the power of insight to the point of stable, sincere wisdom. They are not just well versed in the Torrah and Judaism, but in matters of life. It’s interesting, because in my time with Christianity alone, I’ve been through five priests and two churches, and none of them could seem to give me a productive answer to my questions.

          Rabbis are straightforward. The best advice I ever got from a Rabbi was this: “We are made in his imagine right? So, what mirror was he going by? Each of us is made as an interpretation, just as we interpret our Creator.” Brilliant. It answered my question, “Why am I not like everyone else?” He didn’t respond by pointing out my uniqueness as a positive trait. He responded that it was just part of the intended design.

          I loved it. Short, sweet, to the point.

  11. Pingback: A Sweater Worn Too Thin « As the Pendulum Swings

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