The Bitter Poisonous End

So everyone is clear on the definition of love, love is when two people see everything about the other, the nasty parts as well as the good parts and instead of running the other way they think, we can work with one another on those nasty parts.  We can work together to sort those out and in so doing we can become one whole perfect unit.  This only works if both parties consistently show up and get to work.

The woman with whom I was most recently involved, Kali was my soulmate.  We saw one another for exactly what we both were.  Both flawed, both bipolar.  It was a beautiful union.  I am still very in love with her, I always will be.  She is physically, intellectually and socially perfect for me in every way.  Emotionally she is so damaged that she can’t allow herself to be loved properly.

Before the Christmas holidays of 2015 she would send me cute messages of her own volition, send me pictures, cute and sexy.  She would tell me how handsome I was and how excited she was to see me, how much she missed me and couldn’t wait to see me and talk to me.  During the holidays I had difficulty making contact with her though I dismissed this with her excuses that the holidays are a busy time.  She texted rarely with apologies and maybe a picture.  Perhaps a promise that she would try to call later.

She returned after two weeks of this and I thought okay, things will get back to normal.  She loves me so much she will try to call me on the phone just to hear my voice.  She will still send me pictures everyday.  Without me having to text her first she will surprise me with texts just to tell me how great I am and how much she loves me.  This might have happened about three times tops.  I started putting in all of the work.  She would reply positively, but fewer pictures if any and no uninitiated texts at all.

At this point it is very evident that you are clearly and totally not on someones mind.  She claimed to be upset and depressed which I accepted and was concerned about alas, there is only so much anyone can do through texts to legitimately help in these situations.  So I began to probe around the idea that she call me.  After our phone calls she always felt so much better for having heard my voice and knowing that she wasn’t alone.  I would say sweet and wonderful things with a voice and tone that she normally loved and it would all be a little better at least.  Except she now resisted this.  Despite admitting that this might help she flat out did not accept taking any part in trying to make it actually happen in any way.  FUCK NO, was she going to try to do this even in the slightest.

Her love for me was dying, obviously.  When a woman’s heart goes it’s gone.  This I have learned.  You can do nothing to prevent it, though you try like a desperate fool in vain because as a man, you are bound to fight for a love you have in so short a time learned not to live without.  Women truly do not need men.  Men desperately need women.  So I fought, which only made matters worse.  I tried all the soothing things I possibly could and made myself a door mat for her.  This obviously didn’t work.  Why would it?  Why would having an attractive, capable, kind, loving, caring, intelligent, thoughtful, considerate, sexually perfect for you and completely smitten man at your disposal please you?  It wouldn’t.

I tried all the nice things I could and then I challenged her.  I started being a little bit vicious on those points that I knew that she was being weak.  Which, rather than motivating her only made her flat-out hate me.  I have always suspected that there are things that she has withheld from me, not outright lies per se, more like lies of omission.  I challenged her on this which upset her worse.  I challenged her on her unwillingness and fear to put her foot down and take control of her own life in the face of her oppressor, calling her a coward in the process.  I feel terrible about this though the goal was to motivate her to actually DO ANYTHING about it she only decided to turn it back on me as rage and hatred.

None of the above matters.  Not a bit.  There are really only a few points that actually matter.  She stopped loving me some time around Christmas and I have been fighting desperately for us, but seeing as I am the only one fighting there really is no us.

I don’t blame her for not loving me, I blame her for continuing to say the words, for claiming still that she loves me when it is plain to see that through her actions and behaviour there is no love left in her.  She is only herself with no space nor interest in anyone else.  I feel sorry for her.  I genuinely pity the fuck out of her because from here in her life she will have to find someone else who isn’t nearly as good as me or stay with the clown she lives with who is abusive.  Who she also shares no love with.  She had a perfectly good lily pad to leap to and instead she shat all over it and is now totally uncertain of her future.  All she had to do was keep loving the man who loves her more than life itself.

You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink as they say.  I can’t make her love me and I can see that she clearly has no intention of pretending even for her own sake, which is actually for the best.  I don’t want to get suckered into it now.  The good news is now I am fully aware and free to move on.  No guilt and no urge to turn back.  She had her chance, if she were to have a change in heart now I know that I couldn’t possibly trust it after months of neglect.  It really bothers me though, that act of burning a bridge while you are standing on it… Her love was so great and wonderful while it lasted, I was certain we would be together forever and then she just shot it in the face.  For no reason.  I’m going to have a Kali shaped hole in my heart for the rest of my life over a few months that were mostly unrequited… It’s a horrible monstrosity. A tragedy.  Part of me wants to die and another just desperately hopes I can find anything like her anywhere else…

Dead Inside

My emotions have taken a beating in the last little while.  The woman I love has become an uncertainty in my life and this simply destroys me.  I genuinely love her.  More than anything.  I want nothing else in this world than to be with her always.  Yet, after months of receding texts and pictures, no visits nor phone calls of any kind… she seems to have turtled completely.

I’m not saying that it’s over, but it doesn’t look good and I am distraught.  I don’t have what it takes right now to deal with something like this.  I don’t know if I will recover from this.  I don’t know if after all of this neglect I will be able to see her the same.  I feel like you can’t care about someone and treat them this way.  So, this is causing me harm.  It is doing damage.  Damage from which I’m afraid there is no healing.

I don’t want the woman of my dreams to become something I resent because she has totally failed to provide me with any kind of relationship.  I don’t want to look at her as selfish and cruel.  I don’t want these to be the surviving traits that come through this storm.  Because if they are then there was no sense in weathering it to begin with.  I want to girl who genuinely thought about me.  I want the girl who loves my everything.  Who sends me cute pictures.  Who doesn’t withhold things from me or flat out lie to me.  Alas, this woman is slowly disappearing and I am left with nothing but the dream of her.

I have been very depressed and I think she has been as well.  Yet this is no excuse to treat one another poorly.  I am always kind to her, I always think of her.  She never thinks of me, never texts unless I have first.  I feel more and more that this relationship is one sided and as I do despite the love that I feel I am angry.  Not so much with her but myself because I know I deserve better.  She wanted me because I was so considerate, yet totally fails to earn that.  She takes me for granted and neglects me completely.

So.  I guess I have to pull the trigger on another one.  My heart really can’t take it.  I can’t help but feel like this was the goal all along.  I just wish she had been a better person about it and had simply let me go rather than waste my time, my hopes and emotions.  Now I’m going to be hurt for a good long while and I won’t be able to be with anyone.  At this point even if it could get better, if an improved version was offered I don’t know that I could take it… I love her more than anything but I doubt that it will get better and even if it was it will always go back to shitty.  Now that I know she genuinely doesn’t give a shit I will always know that.  It will always end up right back here.  So why fucking bother?

I don’t know why I do this to myself.  I meet women who seem so great and then they just abuse the shit out of my good nature.  Which is why I’m a total asshole most of the time because I don’t want anyone to get close like this and do shit like this to me.  To exploit my empathy and care and then just fucking ditch me.  I’ve gotten nothing from this relationship.  Nothing.  I can’t even get her to call me!!!  If you love someone this isn’t even a thought.  This isn’t something that you ever consider NOT doing.  So yeah, the more I write about how so totally fucking horribly shitty this whole fucked up deal has been for me, the more angry I get.  I don’t want to hate her completely so I have to stop writing.

The question is, when I go do I fucking torch the shit out of the bridge or not…?

 

Dark Side of the Moon.

I’ve made references to being on the “dark side of the moon” in the past.  It comes full circle.  For me it almost always does.  It is a place only the mentally infirm will know.  I know many do not view bipolar as “insanity” in the traditional sense.  Talking to ourselves, being paranoid or distrustful.  Making delusion assertions or hysteria.  No, for the most part we bipolar types fly under the radar.  We are primarily acceptable.  Until we aren’t.  In those moments when we are not it isn’t evident that we are suffering from an illness.  I’ve said things of this nature in the past but I will reiterate: our mood disorder and the behaviours that accompany it are attributed by onlookers as personality traits.  Even when they are aware of your disorder.  Sometimes they become hostile especially because of it.  Like, don’t you know any better?  As though mid-episode you can snap out of it merely by focusing on the fact that it is happening…

Human beings are small.  Despite having the largest brains and being the most intelligent species we are on average super-stupid.  My estimated IQ is half again what is considered average.  This is no boast, it is actually a curse.  Things that are mundane to me are super challenging or do not even register for the average person.  Even in attempting to explain it to them in very carefully chosen, simplified language I still think that most of the time I am misunderstood.  People who believe that in marching for equality that property damage is in some way acceptable or will not in any way hinder or override their cause…  Protesting in general.  Pointless.  A show of force is only good for one thing.  War.  If you are not prepared to fight, the side that is will win.  People still do not get this.  I digress.

Between ignorance, emotions and plain stupidity I find myself in a very unique place.  A kind of loneliness that few will ever comprehend.  For unless you have a mood disorder or have dealt with one long enough to truly understand it, are of above average intelligence and will not take anything I say as an immediate affront, you and I will probably not get along.  I know, it seems like I pity myself.  There are times where I do.  There are times where I miss being the center of attention.  I used to have hypomanic episodes that placed me in party mode and made me indispensable.  Now there is a part of me that no longer really tries because I recognize the value in my separation from everyone else.  Social media is still an issue…

Back to the Dark Side of the Moon.  This is the place that I reside.  Like many of my ilk.  I knew the song “Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd off of the album “Dark Side of the Moon” since before I could talk.  Only recently did it enter my thoughts due to my current mind state.  I went over the lyrics as I recalled them.  Sure enough it struck me… the song was about Syd Barrett.  It has themes of loss of sanity, well clearly the word “lunatic” is used frequently.  Moreover however is the lyric: “I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon” which is Roger Waters essentially admitting that he feels that sooner or later he is bound to join Barrett in his psychological state.

There we are, standing off the path, on the grass.  When everyone else is happily strolling along on the path as intended.  You find yourself playing music, yet the people in the band are all playing a different song than you are.  You are the odd one out, you don’t know the melody and no matter how you try to play along your song isn’t the same.  Like Syd Barrett you stand on stage with a band you’ve been playing with for years and mid song you find yourself launching into a completely different one.  Eventually you simply wander away.  You are no longer a member of any band.  You fade away and you find yourself alone.  On the dark side of the moon, as nobody hears from you in years.  Moreover, nobody is really looking for you all that hard.  You do not get invitations.  Christmas cards are a laughable concept.

So you dig a well.  You sit at the bottom.  You die inside.  The few voices that break through into this void you have created tell you not to give up.  You have no clue why.  If there was any need of you the phone would ring.  Isn’t it simply easier in the long run?  Just to fill the well with water?  Or concrete?

February is the worst thing that can possibly happen to me.

Triptych Pastiche.

The title will support the theme of this article and were I half the writer I believe myself to be I would actually make of it as such.  Though I am a finely crafted mimic, a recurrent undertone in the homily that is my life’s tale, I am only that and nothing more.  However… As a pastiche one can be renewed as unique, sublime, original and divine, for this is upon which I have been mired for so long.  It is possible to pay homage to multiple things and thus be set apart as something wholly individual.  To be defined, whilst still tipping ones hat at those from which it draws its characteristics.

Contrary to what I had originally believed to be true, I am really rather well defined in three parts:

There is Jack McBastard, the interloper.  The unwelcome rogue.  An agent of chaos, he brings to the table a litany of useful tricks and characteristics.  Even though the result may invariably be ruin and carnage he is an agent nonetheless.  An agent provocateur.  The mad keeper of the gates to Mania.

Dysphorian Alpha, the future self that I strive for always.  A partially built, megalithic construct assembled from the parts of great men that I admire.  He is found in my visage as it is the simplest part of myself to shape.  The finest shave, a collection of eau de toilette, finery and positive charms.  Socially acceptable at my best behaviours and always upbeat.  I find him in my genuine confidence, my lack of fear or need for competition as these things suggest loss of control or rivalry.  Alpha is peerless, yet humble, his confidence dictates that he has no need of displays.  He is rarer than the other two as he is the final stage of my metamorphosis.

Then there is Dysphorian the curator.  My present and evolving regular self.  The glue and stitches holding together the poorly grafted frankenpersonality.  The man who plays between these two diametric titans and is torn asunder from the fray.  When they clash, he is crushed between them.  When they dash in opposite directions, he is drawn and quartered.  This is the character that everyone sees.

As I have stated in the past, there used to be confusion with regards to bipolars and whether or not they were multiple personality.  It is easy to understand, we aren’t multiple personalities, we are several personalities attempting to be one.  He is the curator, the keeper of the characteristics and traits.  Perpetually under the weight of the opposite poles and far behind schedule.  Always playing catch-up.

With regards to Kali… I have been the ass.  I have been playing catch-up between these two and finding myself much needier than I should.  I have been impatient and moody and there has been no need of it.  Things aren’t going to be like a newlywed’s honeymoon everyday.  That is the matter of going through life without being in control of our own circumstances as of yet… That can be expected.  I am merely going to do my best to keep the romance alive and not worry so much if she isn’t always available at every moment.  I knew, and know, that this is an unrealistic expectation.  I should know better than to push so hard when there is nowhere to push to, that is exactly how pressure is made and nobody likes pressure.

I love her.  I can never lose her.

 

Desettling.

It is difficult to report on my mind state lately.  There are so many things that could and should be changing yet for all that would be in motion I find myself static.  My intent is to use the rest of the weekend to my benefit and continue to work toward sorting my life out.  Building an office.  I feel like I am becoming more and more isolated from everyone and everything.  Out of sight, out of mind.  I could put myself out there but the fact is that I don’t want to.  There is a part of that does for reasons of sociability but then I need to focus and organize.  Also, there is the much larger part of me that thinks: if after all the times I have been there for people, after being loyal and thoughtful almost to a fault they have no intention of even checking in on me, just plain fuck them.

I like to think that I have much more value than this.  I suffered some of this last weekend.  After Kali managed to not bother contacting me for the entire day Saturday for what boils down to no reason, I was snubbed by friends.  It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if I hadn’t been speaking to them earlier in the day.  Had they not mentioned their plans and been an odd number with room for more, all of them my friends and then just plain not invited me… It was really the most spectacularly shitty thing I’ve witnessed in my adult life.  Like, I am still in total awe as to how that happened.  So far as I know they aren’t mad at me.  Last I checked we were in good standing.  Yet, they still managed to not bother to fill out a foursome by inviting me.  Just terrible.

I love Kali so much but as each day goes by I feel like she is slipping away from me.  There has been no motivation for her to close the gap between us.  I used to mention us hanging out and that was something she would be excited about.  Now she changes subject and doesn’t even pretend to be interested.  I’m pretty sure this is over and I’m just waiting for her to admit it.  In fact overall her enthusiasm and attention for me is waning and it just seems like she doesn’t really care.  I’m going to have to face the facts and stop letting my sentimental heart hang these nooses up for me.  Pictures are a thing of the past… all around this just isn’t a relationship anymore and she isn’t invested in it.  If we aren’t actively engaging in a relationship and working toward something then this is pointless.  I’m too old to hang around waiting for a woman that doesn’t pay attention to me and has no intention to move forward in her life with me.  Maybe it is best just to let it go now before it gets any worse.  I used to be so hopeful, but now ironically like how it waned for my mother my excitement is gone and I’m actually becoming bitter every time she just ignores me for hours and sometimes half a day at a time.

It makes me sad that I didn’t even really have a legitimate chance.  I didn’t get to take her out and do nice things for her.  We didn’t really get to do anything romantic and here it is with the spark all gone.  I didn’t even mean to write about her all that much, she just happens to be on my mind all the damn time.  Which is why if this is going nowhere, as it obviously isn’t, I need to move on in order to regain focus on my life.  I can’t be all tied up in worrying about the fact that she just gives no fucks about me.

On the weekends I think I’m going to start turning my phone off.

War Room.

Last night my goal was simple: Drink spiced rum and Dr. Pepper alone until I passed out.  Well I passed out, at around nine in the evening without a drop of rum.  The drink I described above is called Dr. Octopus and it is delicious by the way.  If you finish the whole bottle of Kraken (preferred spice rum) you get to call yourself Spider-Man.  I am having my morning coffee now and my goal is far greater than that of the previous evening:  I am building a War room.

At present I share a house with a pair of colleagues who are amenable unlike the rest.  Unfortunately however the lease holder has a wife who intends to resume residing with her husband as of March.  Therefore I am to return to single accommodations.  Which gives me an excellent opportunity to restyle my living quarters.  Seeing as the focus of my life is changing the needs of my domicile are also dramatically changed.  I am going to the office supply place today and spending a reasonable amount on preparing for the next stage of my life.  Hanging file folders, a hanging file box to hang them in, whiteboard accouterments, label printer, string, tape, bulletin board, etc.  I will prepare my room for this purpose first and then move all of my living furnishings in around this.

I will be focused, sharpened, driven.  The trick is maintaining it and staying on top of any given task.  My declaration was to focus on myself and so this is my goal.  With regards to the lady in my life if she should so desire to come along there is plenty of space in my life for her and I will be glad to welcome her.  At present however, I cannot be proactive about our relationship as everything that needs to be done is on her end.  My hands are tied.  I cannot push any harder without making myself a nuisance.  I have no desire to do this.  She understands very clearly how I feel about her and that my whole person is devoted to her should she ever want or need me, however I can do nothing at this time for her as much as I should like to (I have offered).  So I am working on me.  For the better me is substantially more beneficial for the future her in the long run.

I have many goal oriented organizational tasks in my life that need sorting so having this space to manage these things will be crucial.  I will be able to break things down in advance of upcoming dates and strategize proactively in order to not only meet but destroy these goals.  I am actually usually very good at this naturally.  I have eternal faith in my capability to this regard and call myself the “last-minute man” as I usually do these things on the fly and with unfaltering precision without a moment to spare.  So, giving myself a leg up, more space and time in order to compose my machinations will put me well ahead of the curve, which is typically where I am anyway but why not all the further?

Every great person has a sanctuary, a lair in which they conceive and from which they launch their plans.  I will have mine.  Every great man has behind him the support of a great woman.  I know who mine is, I am merely keeping busy until she can fill that position.

Edit: I wrote this and liked it, felt it was applicable in some way.

My mane is so thick because I don’t have time for crumbs like you. I keep it thick so that when I’m taking big face-full bites out of your whole world, crumbs like you just bounce right off. Everyone thinks they want a mane like this but they can’t maintain it.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown, this is so that when the crown is not worn and another strikes at it, their wrist is broken and the head remains high and unmoved.
If you are a hyena, go be a hyena. go share nervous laughter with the dozens of others that you need to build yourself up. I will be napping in the shade, alone. You will know where to find me when you need to prove something to your equally nervous friends.

Parenting.

This is another in my series of “I had nowhere else to put this”.

Cookies for dinner. AGAIN! I fucking love being an adult. To think that there was a time that I couldn’t eat what I wanted…. Like, my parents told me I couldn’t have cookies and candy for dinner. Man, it’s probably a good thing that I’m not a father because I would let my kids eat whatever they wanted for every meal. Then I would end up at the hospital with some judgy doctor asking me questions while some fucking Helicopter parents who are there because they want to discuss the “merits of not getting their child vaccinated” with their physician stare at me like I’m some abomination.

So when the doctor is asking me why I let my kids eat whatever they want I point to Mr. and Mrs. Helicopter and I say: “Hey, you see those two nervous wreck assholes over there that are so anxious about fucking up their kid that they are making the next Jeffrey fucking Dahmer? I don’t want my kids to be like that pencil-necked little puke. That kid is so pathetic that germs are going to bully him. My kids are going to be his boss. That kid is going to be so straight and narrow with his nose to the computer screen, he will work 12 hours a day out of a fear of not paying his bill two weeks in advance. My son is going to stand around the water cooler telling the middle management how he’s nailing some poor bastards wife on afternoons and weekends while her husband isn’t home and when that kid over there looks around to hear more of the story my son is telling, my son is going to scream at him to get back to work. Which that kid over there is going to do. Then, when he does my son is going to tell those other management pricks ‘That’s the guy’ and laugh hysterically as he outlines how he intends to increase his hours and give him the minimum raise this year. Then he’ll mention how he steals his sandwich out of the break room fridge everyday but doesn’t even eat it, just throws it in the garbage.”

The doctor will look confused and the Helicopter family will look appalled. “Oh, I forgot to explain why. Well you see, my kids will get sick and get their stomachs pumped and that will be the worst thing that has ever happened to them.  Then I’ll explain to them it was because they made bad choices. They ate candy and cookies instead of healthy balanced meals. Then I’ll explain that there are always consequences to bad choices. Also, when you make bad choices you have to live with the consequences, take your lumps but then rise up from them, not dwell on them and move forward. Move past it and learn from it. Without hesitation and without fear.”

“So old Pencil-neck No-needles O’Helicopter over there will get polio and his legs will shrivel up as he sits in front of a computer and my kids will stomp on everything in front of them like dinosaurs.  They will have no fear, they will take risks and yes they will make mistakes, but they will come through smelling like a rose with confidence.”

Then the doctor will probably either call or consider calling child services and the Helicopters will ask about boosters for Pencil-neck.