My nerves are raw and exposed. My temper strikes out at anything that triggers frustration like a snake that's blind from shedding its skin. Maybe that's the key. I feel my skin has been shed and I'm exposed and vulnerable.

I posses no protection from the waves of pain that come at me. If the tide is low, I feel OK. If the tide is high however, I come near to drowning in it. It's like my feet are buried in the sand and I have no option but to pray the waves do not overcome me. I can't run from them or swim with the current.

I hope for the best in all things, including this. I cling to my knowledge that I will cycle once again and this will not last. I claim the promises of my faith and pray for better days.

I just wish that my pain did not cause depression to spread into Jan's life as well. It is true that moods are infectious. Someone starts laughing loudly in a crowd, and soon everyone is laughing, even if they don't know why. The same may not be true of tears, but they do have their own downward swinging effect on the emotions of those who love and care about the one who hurts and are powerless to make things better. I feel selfish for not being happy. If I could even pretend to be happy than the people I love would not hurt so much for me.

top | your comments | visitor comments | journal archives | send to friend

3/12/00
I know that acting happy really wouldn't be for the best. Pretending, which has been on my mind due to some recent discussions, is something I really don't want to do anymore. I have tried it for so many years. It actually becomes painful. I started feeling that I had to pretend for whatever reasons. Once that worked so well, it had an adverse reaction. I began to feel that I had to hide who I was because who would like or love me otherwise. Obviously I was right, otherwise I wouldn't have been hiding who I was and how I felt, right?

I mean I know that it's bullshit, but that's how it started to feel. The more I hid and pretended, the more I felt I needed to and should. Until finally, I had built up so many covers and masks that I barely knew who I was anymore. It hurt because it became to easy for me to tell myself that no one could love me if they really knew me. Unfortunately, I almost proved that one right. Fortunately, I did prove it wrong.

Yes, it's a great feeling to be able to walk into a room and and have almost everyone there liking you or at least enjoying your company in five minutes or less. I have done that while hypomanic and even a few times when I wasn't hypo. But the pleasure is short lived.

Reality is an illusion based upon our own perceptions. In the above scenerio I began to feel that no one really liked me, because they didn't really know me. I still feel that way some. Kid Rock says it better in his song ~I'm Going Platinum~ -

You knew that I was coming because you heard my name
But you don't know my game and never felt my pain
Can't read my brain but you read my lips.....
.....I'm in the red 'cause my brain's distortin'
People claim they know me but they only know a portion....

I felt like that for a long time. No one ever knew me because each of my masks, while almost all being a part of who I really was, was tiny in size of character developement. In fact, if you described one of the many faces as a potential novel character, any college writing professor would chew you out for not giving it enough depth. And yet, I lived behind several of them for years.

Why have I rambled on so? To get to this point. I can't do it anymore. I can't hide behind a mask. I must be who I am. That includes being true enough to be myself in my moods as well. Meaning, if I am depressed, I will not go around trying to pretend that I am not. Especially with and around those who love and care about me. So, Jan has been seeing the ugly sides of who I am. I am grateful for her strength, because she really seems to be handling it better than I handle her having to handle it.

top | your comments | visitor comments | journal archives | send to friend

3/15/00
Today, or yesterday since time has crossed the midnight point, is my brother's birthday. He is celebrating his first birthday as a married man. I am so proud of the way he has grown into the man he is today. I used to joke that he ruined my ninth birthday, because he was born four days before it. I hope he knows that I was joking. He was an excellent birthday present that year and has really been a blessing in my life. I care so much about him and my other brother as well.

You wouldn't know it by my actions though. I got so caught up in other things today that I forgot to call him before he had to leave for work. I am kicking myself for not getting it done. I hope that he had a great day though and that my forgetfulness didn't bother or hurt him.

I have been having problems remembering things lately. I almost forgot to report in to my bail bondsman today as well, which would have cost me a quick trip back to jail. I am not sure what the problem is. I may simply have too much going on in my head with the writing I am doing now to remember things. I worry that it may be the meds I'm on, although I hope it isn't. I don't want to start hunting for a new mood stabilizer. The nuerontin is working so much better than the depakote did. The depakote made me wonder if a man under thirty can get senile.

Mood wise, things have been getting better. I felt better today and yesterday than I have in a while. I have started taking Nikken in addition to the nuerontin and zyprexia. That seems to have helped some. Some really fantastic things situationally have happened as well. I just hope that the good mood lasts. Sunday morning was probably the worse period of the week, and I ended up burning again, but I was able to stop with just one blister. I am hopeful for tomorrow.

top | your comments | visitor comments | journal archives | send to friend