Rough Ride With Calm Waters Ahead...hopefully

I've been in the mental ward twice in the last 6 months. I didn.t OD last month. My wife hid the pills and called 911 before I could drown my self-loathing away in a chemical embrace. This life is getting to be too much. If I wasn't for my wife's awesomely powerful love, I doubt my meager love for myself could keep me from the dirt calling. But I'm fine...how 'bout u?

They Are Home But I'm Far From Whole

They came home Sunday Afternoon. My wife and I have talked a lot. My daughter and I have taked a little but she is still a bit uneasy. My son wants nothing to do with me. We think it would be good for them both to see counselors. I am totally willing to have therapy with my son. Maybe a therapist can help me get through all my cold hearted baggage of my upbringing and bipolar brain and get him to understand just how deeply I love him. I have to go slowly and teach myself via my counseling to open up and show my family the love inside before it's too late. He leaves for college in one year. This is likely my last hope for the relationship I envision.

I Guess I Left Them Before They Left Me

My family left me Friday night after I snapped. I'm sure I scared them with my selfish, mean-spirited, intimidating comments and actions. Abuse is abuse, even if verbal or fear of psychosis . It is like what countless people (teachers, bosses, friends) have always had to say to me: there is nothing wrong with what you said, it was how you said it.

They are staying at her parents'. It is Sunday morning now. My son slipped in sometime this morning and left his car for me and my phone. I tried to call Amber but she didn't answer. I'll leave a message next time I call; say I'm sorry and ask them to come home. If nothing else, let her know that I'll leave for a little while so they can grab some things.

I'm very depressed, but not in a depressive episode. I would never kill myself in this situation. I'm a selfish bastard, they is obvious to me, but not enough to leave my family false guilt that they caused or played a part in my suicide. Weird how one can be good and shit inside at the same time. I find myself looking to the driveway habitually just like our dogs. I hope they give me a chance to get help. This is the whole reason I decided to start seeing a counselor. Pills can only do so much. I need to talk through my issues and know my triggers. To make myself worthy of their love, be the best father/husband I can be. Too bad my first appointment isn't until the end of the month. At least they brought my phone. I'm pretty that means she wants some type of communication. I wouldn't blame them if they left me. No one should have to put up with a bipolar person, because even when they love with all their heart, their mind is broken. This is the exact reason that I tried to kill myself last month. They put up with me because they love me, I know. The good times are better than the bad with me, but really how fair is that to them. So as much as I love them and need them, I will honor their decision. I will take it slow and leave only one message and then let them choose to reciprocate.

I'm not a bad person inside, I was just put together wrong. I am at fault. I want no pity. I just want my family back.

Dreams cont: Shades/Wraiths Pt 1

 I will recall the shade dreams when I awake, although they aren't visually stimulating, but they are emotionally dreadful and appear with a  lifethreatening fear. With an actual adrenaline producing anxiety to the point of my mind telling my physical body of the danger, thus my mind contriving to stimulate myself awake by talking/mumbling, flinching, shaking so I can break free of the dream's hold before I pop. I recall more of what it isn't than what it is. It, the wraith, the evil antagonist, is a dark deeply negative absence, thus shade or shadow creature. An absence of light; pure evil vileness. It lives in the fog, it controls the fog, and it quite possibly are the fog that shrouds every aspect of the nightmare's atmosphere and near physical surroundings. The shade seems to be a hooded bipedal figure in flowing robes. But whether a man in a robe, a demon, or a mere presence, I never have understood. I can feel its very pestilence hot on my neck as it chases me through a dark foggy dreamrealm. Ever is it right there behind me as I flee onward. I dare not look back, because I know in my very core/soul that if I don't wake myself up before I tire of running, even if I slow my pace one iota, I will never wake up - I will die when it catches me! Do I honestly believe I would die? No of course not, but my subconscious believes it and has my CNS convinced also. I awake after pleading to escape what I know is a dream in a pool of sweat and a lingering feeling of dread and a sense that I am still being watched in some odd and menacing way. If I go right back to sleep I often fall back into the dream, especially if I don't roll over or adjust where I'm facing in the room.

These dreams added a ton of undue stress to my waking life. I already have nightly issues winding down to sleep. Fear of upcoming hounding nightmares just seemed overly unjust. To be continued...

Always Be Your Man

I need to unzip my double helix
To find a way to beat this
To make my genes fit
'cause I've got a wishlist
To change this
To rearange this shit
To hone this
To own this
Maybe sneek in a bonus
To make me more unflappable
To make me more compatible
To make me what I should have been
What I could have been
To cure all that ills
To be shiny
To be perfect
To be you
To be all that you deserve
Perfect wouldn't be enough
But until then I will work with what I am
And change what I can
Because my only goal is to always be your man

Back from the Dead or Week in the Ward

I crashed hard from my weeks of mania. I found myself alone and full of self-loathing. I decided that I was more of a burden on my family alive than dead. I grabbed a notebook and on the back porch I began taking my Adivan one by one as I wrote through teary eyes, a suicide letter. I explained my endless love for my family and gave each a personal good bye and thoughts on my hopes for their future. I didn't remember much of what I wrote (read since) but I do recall falling and ripping out my daughter's section as I blacked out. My family came home and found me soon after.
I awoke in the psychiatric ward of a hospital and then a week of hell that still haunts near every thought currently. I am on some different meds that seem to be helping, although I am having some problems adjusting outside with odd thoughts and feelings. I have a court ordered therapist, because I guess I was very aggressive coming out of the overdose and drugged up. The police escorted me the two hrs to the ward in cuffs, but I don't remember any of it. I had a bad experience with my last counslor, but I think this will be for the best and I plan to keep going to a therapist, so I can get my self respect/self worth issue where it needs to be. Because I will hit the dark spot again no matter what meds I am on. That's just how the bipolar mind works. It just keeps running and ducking and darting as neurons change how and when they communicate. So this next time I need to be ready mentally to fight my selfish need to leave this world.
I am right back to being very manic. My wife and I are worried about another crash. I have been out for four days and I'm not sleeping well. Last night I did but I'm not sure if I was merely exhausted or the PM pill I added was enough to allow the Sandman in.) May wife took over my meds and she doles them to me like a little kid, but at least she doesn't ask to see in my mouth like at the ward!
I hope to post my experiences in the hospital before I forget them.

Crazy Manic

I plan to actually post some things soon. I was short on funds and had to ration my meds. All over the place. Back on full doses but I have been manic for a good week solid. I'm getting a ton done in a round about way. I start one project or task, then go to grab something, and realize something in that room needs done. I start working there until I leave that room for a sec. So I have 5 or more things going at once. I over analyze and make sure I take multiple supplies to all my jobs on every trip through the house or yard, because god forbid I waste time and energy or eat, drink, or take a break.