Out of the Wilderness.

Hello again.  I’ve been preoccupied and distracted.  Busy.  I wish I could tell you that my life was improving.  Well, on paper it is… I’m going back to college and I’m doing okay.  Alas, on the psychosocial front I am dissolving.  It has been a foray into the wilderness of humanity.  Dating unsuccessfully, meeting loads of new people and not making any friends.  I have been chemically prevented from anything like serious disdain or regret but lately… I’ve been more circumspect.  As I think about my experiences I am reminded of “As Good As It Gets” with Jack Nicholson.  Wherein his character, who has psychosocial issues comes to the realization that maybe “this is as good as it gets”.  The more I think about that, the less hopeful I become.

I feel lonely so I reach out.  It starts out fine.  Then a joke is told, usually followed by some confusion or misunderstanding and it all goes south rather quickly.  What was supposed to be funny becomes a serious discussion and then degenerates into an argument.  You can’t say anything nice about yourself without people getting extremely precious about it.  Whether it is true and you are simply stating a virtue or it is a joke and you don’t actually mean it at all.  It just turns into a tragedy and every bit of hope that you had for having a nice easy happy social life goes completely to shit.

I like people less and less.  I like myself less and less.  I become introspective about the entire thing and the suicidal ideation that hasn’t been a part of my life for so long starts creeping back in.  COmpletely welcomed like an old friend.  Why bother?  You try to be nice, it starts a fight, you try to be defensive and keep people at arm’s length and it becomes an argument.  Dating is a mixed bag of solipsistic and shallow women and meaningless encounters that range from indifference to casual sex.  Nothing lasting or progressive.  I’m an odd virus in a petri dish.  Nothing else can exist in this space without corruption by or with me.  I either devour it, or it is so hallow that I simply spread right through it, obliterate it completely.

So, without love… Without support or close ties, friendships or lovers, what exactly is the point?  If this is as good as it gets, why carry on?  I cannot be cured, I cannot live a healthy balanced and normal productive life, so why live?  I’m not feeling sorry for myself.  I genuinely want to know.  How can I find meaning in this wilderness.  What is my purpose?  To continually attempt to have a better life that I am utterly incapable of maintaining, only to fail repeatedly and simply be frustrated…?

I don’t want that.  Every single street has a one way sign…

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.

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.

Under a Dark Cloud

I find it seriously disturbing that because of the way my disorder can manifest how differently I am treated.  I mean on a less-than-conscious level.  People do it automatically without noticing it.  They don’t give me the same concessions or considerations as they would other friends.

When a friend is hurt, upset or emotional we often immediately do what we can to help, or at least sometimes just put out the offer.  We bake cookies, we watch movies, we spend time, share a drink perhaps.  Maybe we go out to the range and blow off steam by shooting up pictures of their ex.  Whatever works.  However I have noticed that in dealing with me (or others with depressive, dysphoric or elevated conditions) people act as though they are on a minefield.  Perhaps they expect me to react differently.  Maybe they feel as though they will get sucked into my deeply involved psychological issues.  Or perhaps it’s as simple as just not having the energy to deal with me.  However the reaction isn’t merely distancing and indifference, no it gets much worse.  People will treat you like an asshole.  An interloping shit disturber.  They will call you names and get into arguments with you, maybe only on social media but this will probably result in them unfriending you and then never talking to you again.  They get downright hostile with you because even though they know that you are bipolar and prone to fits of manic dysphoria they just don’t care that there is an inherent underlying issue.

They don’t care that your reckless behaviour lately is the fallout of self-medicating.  Nope, you’re a dangerous drunken jerk and you piss them off.  You could endanger their family so why don’t you just go fuck yourself?  Forget that we’ve been friends since high school.  Forget that they should know better why you are acting out this way… Forget all that.  You’re not welcomed there anymore and your problems don’t fucking matter.  I want to say that people are selfish and self-interested, self-preserving and judgmental assholes.  Well, I can say that because they are, to me.  Yet you see them with their neighbour whom they’ve known for a few months and their cat has been hit on the highway.  You see them make soup or bake a cake for this person.

I don’t expect you to bake me a fucking cake.  However, when you have a full and busy day of people screaming at you and your boss riding you, think about how you feel.  Now imagine that while combating a demon all day.  One that can possess you and make you say and do strange impulsive shit that makes enemies out of even your closest friends.  Imagine that.  Think about what that must be like.  Wondering if the next time your boss yells at you you won’t come out of a rage-haze fifteen minutes later eating a sandwich with cut and bruised hands covered in his blood.  Having no clue what happened until you hear him crying under his desk into the phone for 911.  Wondering why you are sitting on his berber tapioca carpet crosslegged and eating the sandwich his wife packed for him.  You know it’s his because he has one everyday wrapped in wax paper and you always buy fast-food…

Fortunately the violent extreme episodes have been limited to three but you don’t know what triggers the ‘fight’ portion of your “fight or flight” response.  And once that switch gets flipped it has one setting: Maximum.  Also, you won’t remember it.  Except when fight turned into flight…  Out of love?  No clue, I digress.

So everything you can do I can do drowning.  Or on fire.  Or however you want to look at it.  Here are two of the primary reasons that I know I’m more intelligent than most: genetics, can’t discount that, and war.  I have developed a keenly honed sense of cunning from having been at war with myself for my entire life.  Imagine being locked in a battle against someone with every advantage that you have exactly.  You share the same mind and you have to outwit them.  My mind is an arms race.  So yes, I’m sorry that my border skirmish is spilling over into reality and causing some heartbreak on your end.  To wit:

“I need you to hear. I need you to see.
That I have had all I can take
And exploding seems like a definite possibility
To me
So Pardon me while I burst into flames.
I’ve had enough of the world, and its people’s mindless games
So Pardon me while I burn, and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me. I’ll never be the same.”
-Excerpt of lyrics from “Pardon Me” by Incubus.

Oh, and my mind is like a junkyard.  I keep everything.  I remember every lyric.  I remember every slight, every conflict and insult.  I don’t hold grudges but the heart can only take so much.  Especially given my junkyard gallery of horrors, populated with the social atrocities inflicted upon me by friends.  The alienation.  The double standard and guilt.  The regret.

Most of this precipitated by nothing more than a bout of depression or dysphoria, or a combination of the two. Or maybe a flawed medication. One wrong phrase or a few sentences and people are more than willing to throw a whole person away. Because… feelings. And people wonder why disenfranchised loners with psychological problems shoot up a mall. Because you push them out into the wilderness by themselves after years of friendship for no reason at all whatsoever after a single conversation like nothing about your relationship ever mattered and never talk to them again…
I can’t help but totally commiserate with these people. You wonder why the world is broken? Because you are actively breaking it.

Compassion.  For everyone, especially those of us who desperately need it the most.  Need it the most because whether you see it or not we are taking on your pain at the same time as all of the above.  I’m reminded of a small exchange in “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”:

Charlie: There is so much pain. And I-I-I don’t know how to not notice it.
Dr.Burton: What’s hurting you?
Charlie: No, not… not me. It’s them! It’s… it’s everyone. It never stops. Do you understand?

This hit me pretty hard.  Because it’s true.  Our empathy is too strong and it drives our passions.  It’s the reason that we get so upset about good causes and stopping all the injustice in the world.  It’s the reason that we care so deeply and in turn become so wounded when we aren’t given that care.  We know that it’s hard to see through the conflagration and chaos that we drag around like our own personal pet hurricane.  Please just know that it’s there and be nice to us.  Know that we are hurting.  In ways you have yet to imagine.

One Way.

In retrospect I see how little by little the signs are there.  The indication that things are slipping.  That a relationship falls apart.  Of course, I’m socially retarded so at the time it is rather difficult for me to see it as it occurs.  Gradually I see myself doing everything I have done and perhaps a little more.  Maybe I will try a little harder because I can see that she is not as happy as she once seemed.  Or maybe she has openly expressed a dissatisfaction of some kind and because I’m a wooden boy I don’t take it for what it really means.  I believe that I can fix it, make it better if I only try.  The issue here is I now realize that there is no fixing these things from without, she has to want to fix them.  Gradually she becomes more annoyed by my kisses and attempts to cuddle.  I do more and more around the house in order to please her as she does less and less.  I give and give, especially in bed while she can’t even look me in the eye when we kiss or make love.  She begins to prefer doggy style so she doesn’t have to look at me.  I become more irritable despite trying to be nicer because she treats me like shit or doesn’t interact with me at all.  She triggers my dysphoria regularly and blames everything on me when we argue because I can barely control the things I say or do in my mixed states.

I can never recover from these things.  No matter how much good I ever do I will never dig myself out of my hole.  This all began because of hypomania.  Jack Mcbastard and lust conspired to find me a sexual partner and I ended up in a relationship.  Sure enough she made her way into my heart and now she is doing her very best to wreck the fucking thing.  And of course she succeeds.  They all do.

This is Jack’s most effective weapon against me, that prick.