Meet B
Meet B. As you can tell, this photo is not in the best quality at all. Sadly… I barely have any pictures of him left. 3 to be exact and the other 2 are with his son, so though they are better pictures, out of respect to others, I felt a pic of B by himself is the best option.
It is funny… in this picture he clearly smokes, but after he and I started dating, he never smoked…at least not to my knowledge. LOL.
This day, May 29th, is the 10 year anniversary of his suicide. He died sometime at night (details are now fuzzy), but the 30th is the day I found out and the 30th marks the day my world drastically changed for me mentally.
I hope he has found the peace he was always searching for. I hope his pain is gone and that his mind, heart, and soul is healed.
♥
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Bipolarmuse♥ To you… My World I Give
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2000. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
World globe (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
To you… my world I give.
I am the Grinch when it comes to Christmas… yet this year feels a bit different.
B and I have had the money to get gifts for both our families and it hasn’t been stressful at all.
My stress comes when I try to figure out what to get B. What do you get someone who essentially has had everything. It feels like an impossible task.
What am I to give this man who I adore? This man that drives me absolutely nuts…
I have already proposed to him and we are beginning to plan the wedding… but for a gift, I am baffled.
I know…. I have the only thing he has never been given.
~~~~~~~~
I wait anxiously for B to set out our gifts.
I get lost in his movements, in his eyes, his voice. He is dressed well… wearing a sweater that I love. His cologne fills the air and I am just sickly in love with this man.
I stare at him as he grabs the main gift I have gotten for him.
He stares at it oddly for a moment and then reads the tag aloud…
- To you… My world I give. I love you B. -
He looks at me and then unwraps the gift.
His eyes start to brim with tears… he looks at me, his hands slightly trembling.
In his hands he holds a Globe. My world.
~ Yes, B. To you, my world I give. ~
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Love is a chemical imbalance…
“…love is a chemical imbalance, too. That perilous highs and desperate lows and extravagant flurries of mood are not always symptoms of a broken mind, but signs of a beating heart.” Terri Cheney
Absolutely! So how do we know when one begins and the other ends?
Life is suppose to come with ups and downs… that is life. Being blue/melancholy is a normal response to sad events… even to change in general. Anyone with a beating heart will experience the highs and lows of life. So why are some people different.
My therapist explained that we feel in different degrees. That most people respond to sadness and happiness to a certain degree within a certain range, and then others with mood disorders have a hyper-sensed sadness and happiness that goes beyond the normal range. We go above and beyond the norms.
To separate the normal swings from the abnormal can at times be difficult to differentiate.
And so I just live.
This is who I am.
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Take Flight
Did you fly through the magnificent sky?
Touch every star, a-twinkle, in your reach.
Imagine heaven was found in your eyes,
A most beautiful flight, one made of dreams.
~~~~
Drowning as you swim through a million tears.
Hushed whispers of dreams never to be met.
Will you look upon me and see my fears?
Whisper in my ear, give me hope instead?
~~~~
Passing Jupiter with Saturn in view.
Flying past Neptune, heaven is your mark.
Praying for your soul to be cleansed anew.
Riding to the soft glow of light afar.
~~~~
Touch my dreams with your kindness and your love.
Sit on stars and shine as I gaze above.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse♥ Maybe It Would Be Best
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2002. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
***WARNING!!! Disturbing content!!!***
Maybe It Would Be Best
B walks into my work and orders a beer.
Something is clearly wrong… he is agitated… eyes darting frantically around… he look like he is mourning, upset, disturbed.
I walk over to him…
~ Hi baby, what are you doing here? ~
He smirks… but it is a different smirk than normal.
- I killed your cat. -
I stand there staring at him. This is the second cat…. actually kitten… that he has killed.
I am speechless.
My face is becoming hot and my hands are shaking.
~ How the fuck did you kill my cat? Please tell me it was an accident… ~
- I had the sliding glass door open and went to slam it shut, and the cat darted toward the door and the door crushed it. It just went limp. -
I am ILL. I feel like throwing up… partially because my cat is dead but even worse, because I didn’t believe it was an accident.
I say nothing to him and walk away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I get home from work and notice one of our towels laying on the sidewalk. My stomach churns. I walk past it and go into our apartment.
B is still not acting right… it is almost frightening.
~ Why is there a towel on the sidewalk? ~
B is trembling, yet he cackles.
- That’s as far as I got with the cat… it’s wrapped in the towel. I was taking it to the dumpster but I couldn’t make it. -
Tears are in his eyes. I feel NO sympathy for him.
~ You had to have done it on purpose B… ~
He stares at me. That odd smirk on his face… tears in his eyes.
- I crushed its throat with my hand. -
OH MY GOD.
With his own hands??
What type of man is this??
If he is capable of killing animals, what else is he capable of??
I am not sticking around… this relationship is over… maybe it would be best if he committed suicide…
Could he kill a person??
Yes, maybe suicide would be best…
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse♥ Kiss Him Goodbye
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2002. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
Kiss Him Goodbye
I finally get a grip on myself. I must. I have no choice.
I walk closer to his casket and I am trembling.
The closer I get the more it looks as though he is sleeping. I have seen that sleeping silhouette in life…and now I get to see it in his death.
I get up to him and people have put things in his casket to be buried with him. I have nothing to put in. I really wish I had some watermelon flavored bubble gum at this moment. That is what I would give him. Silly, I know.
I stare at his chest… begging God to let me see him breathe… yet he is still. I am BEGGING for this to be a prank… a joke that B would love to pull.
I rub his arms… I can feel the hair, which would royally piss him off because he always kept them shaved. **smile**
I stare at his face… his lips… his forehead.
I thought he looked amazing, considering.
A woman who loved him long before I did wanted to speak to me. She is the mother of his son…
We sit to the side in private.
- He really loved you. -
All I can do is cry.
Here is this beautiful woman who has loved him many more years than I have, and she wants me to know he truly loved me.
Such a beautiful gesture.
I thank her… profusely.
My mind is blank… I can’t form any thoughts.
I just want him to stand up and cackle, and say “GOTCHA”… I wait for it as though it is a possibility.
His Dad calls me over to his casket.
We both stand there… silent… staring down at his first born child…
He breaks the silence…
- Kiss him goodbye. -
And so I did. I kissed his forehead with my tears falling onto his face.
~ Goodbye B…sleep tight. ~ Godspeed…sweet dreams.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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My Immortal- Evanescence
When B and I officially split up (we broke up several times and then got back together)… I felt like I walked away with my head held high, and that I had been “over” the relationship long before it was over.
However, when he passed away, I was hurled right back into the relationship. All of a sudden I hadn’t lost an “ex” but rather my “fiance”. I was catapulted back into the relationship and rubbed raw by all the emotions of what we went through together. His death opened old wounds and gave me new ones. Life all of a sudden became “before he died” and “After he died”… it was a pivoting point in my life.
This song came out not long after he passed… and I felt like it was a soundtrack to my life in that moment.
It speaks for itself.
New Soul – Haiku
Photographer: Ekaterina Grishekina
Bright eyes held to mine
Your soul peers deeply through me
Not old, instead new
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse♥ Great Lengths
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2000. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
Great Lengths
~ B, I think you have an infection. ~
I am looking at B’s hand, the one that is fucked up and had surgery. It is wrapped in gauze and somehow “set” so he couldn’t move his fingers.
There are red streaks leading up his arm from his hand and it feels very fevered.
An infection… from the mouth of another human…
Definitely not good. An infection of this caliber could be deadly if not treated quickly and aggressively.
Soooooo….On to the emergency room we go! Low and behold, he has a very bad infection that requires serious home care.
A Pic line is placed in his arm and it is highly disturbing to B.Partially because of the procedure itself and also where then end of the pic line is placed within his body. His eyes start to tear up… and he is holding back from crying.
Every miserable feeling this man has given me suddenly vanish and I am left with the love between us.
I just want to comfort him… help him heal… be there for him.
And I will be.
I now have the responsibility of giving him his IV antibiotics…
Every four hours.
Literally.
For a man so suicidal, it is amazing to see what lengths he goes to in order to preserve his life.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Counting The Days
I am counting the days…
accumulating the pain,
hidden in your wicked ways.
Can’t you play nice?
You tricked me already, twice…
choking on all your lies.
A tragic ending…
where there should have been a beginning.
I wake up forgetting.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse♥ Have Some More
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2000. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
Have Some More
I’m at the bar with J and getting more and more pissed off because I cannot get a hold of B.
At first his phone just rings and rings but now, NOW, it goes straight to voice mail. Lovely. I am the stalker girlfriend.
I am positive he is not where he says he is… OR with who.
I am trying really hard to be “un”psycho and everything is hitting my senses at once. I feel sick and can taste the smoke in the room… the beer is disgusting and making my stomach churn. Of course, these things never seem to bother me unless in a state of agitation.
HIGH agitation. This man crawls under my skin like army ants.
J can see I am about to lose it…
And I am.
B is going to pay because shit is going to hit the fan.
As I am contemplating what mean thing I shall do to him, my phone starts ringing.
It is B…. lucky him.
~ Where the fuck are you B? ~
- Baby girl, I’m at Thunderbird Hospital. I got into a fight with some fuck-wad and my hand is broken or some shit. You should have seen his face though! -
I am instantly pumped. I am anxious. I am pissed off …and now I know where to go to direct my anger..
To B… at the hospital.
We instantly jump in the car and go straight there.
I park and start walking up to the emergency exit. As I am approaching, B is making his way towards me.
- Baby giiiiirl, I love you. -
Clearly he is drunk and proud of himself for the fight.
I walk right up to him and punch him as hard as I can in the chest. Sounds like punching a watermelon.
~ You are a fucking idiot B. Where were you. Who were you with. Why didn’t you answer the phone? ~
B is just simply giddy about my violence… he feeds off of it. He is proud I hit him and turned on by it.
He cackles.
Once I am done with my fiasco, we head into the emergency room.
He has seriously fucked up his hand and will need surgery to repair it.
They will put metal rods and screws into his hand.
Just great B.
Here…. have some more pain pills.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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“What hurts you, blesses you…”
“What hurts you, blesses you. Darkness is your candle.”
― Rumi
Even in pain, there are blessings to be seen, we just have to be willing to see what they are.
Life is seldom easy… explanations are sometimes difficult to understand… love sometimes takes an unexpected turn.
Through it all, there is light.
There’s a new door opened when one is closed. Find the positivity in the pain and dwell there instead of in the pain itself.
Life is a grand adventure… ride through the darkness on the light.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Bipolarmuse♥ WOW
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2000. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
WOW
Work is slow and I have been having a good time mingling with my customers, getting my hustle on… being a food server has its benefits.
I notice B’s family standing at the front of the restaurant, they are asking for me to be their server.
I love when they do that. They genuinely mean something to me and I am flattered when they come by and visit.
I sit down at their booth with them for a few minutes while taking their order.
- How you doing baby girl? -
This nickname is addictive apparently, because B’s Mom, my Aunt, and B all use it for me.
~ I have been good. Me and B have been doing well. ~ I lied. We were doing well under the circumstances of our relationship.
- Well we wanted to talk to you. -
Uh- Oh. This is either good or it is bad.
Anxiousness kicks in.
- We love how B has changed since you came into our lives. We love you and want you to marry him. -
I am floored. I had been thinking of proposing to him myself, but hadn’t gotten that far with the idea.
- We can help you guys get a house and with the wedding. B is such a different person with you and we welcome you into our family.
I pick my jaw up off the floor.
~ Wow, I am so happy that you feel this way. I have been thinking of marriage, and B and I have been talking about it a little. ~
- Well, just know that we want you as our daughter in law. -
This is epic, poetic. I have no words…
They cease from escaping my mouth.
All I know is…
WOW.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Changes ~ Haiku
Sorrow in my heart
Pain comes on the heel of change
In the rain I bloom
© bipolarmuse 2012
Healing ♥
**Healing is you waking up to the fullness of who you really are as a divine energetic being in this amazing world. Healing is YOU LOVING YOU.
STAY WAKE. BE WHOLE. LOVE.
Dr. Julie on your Beautiful Mindful Life**
A couple years ago I would feed myself positive affirmations and inspiring quotes.
This is one that I shared on my facebook and wanted to share with you.
This is wonderful advice to live by. She is speaking of mindfulness and being “present”. Not only that, but to also forgive yourself so that you will be able to love who you are.
We are magnificent beings, even in our imperfections. We all seek being “whole” but you must really be awakened and realize the depth of your own thoughts.
Negativity brings more negativity, and positivity brings more positivity.
I know sometimes that life can get hard and be a very dark place… I certainly understand this first hand.
But you should know that I practiced using positivity when at my worst, and though at the time it seemed futile, it did indeed work because if it hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse♥ Wait It Out
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2002. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
Wait It Out
- Hello? -
~ J, it’s bipolarmuse. ~ I am whispering, hiding in the back bedroom, as far from B as possible.
The tears just flow from my eyes. It is hard to breathe, hard to speak. My eyeballs feel bruised from all the crying. My head is pounding.
~ B is trying to kill himself by overdosing. He says he just wants to “go to sleep” but he is taking so many muscle relaxers and pain pills together. I don’t know what to do. This is what he wants.” ~
- I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I knew what to do or say. Did you take the medication from him? -
~ Yes, I hid it. Right now he is passed out and every time I try to wake him, he won’t wake up, but he is still breathing ~
I hid the medication in a kitchen cabinet… I wanted to flush them, but at this point, I am not sure of what B is capable of… I don’t know if he would get violent… when and if he wakes up.
~ I want to save him so bad and I can’t do it. He will just keep trying until he succeeds. ~
My voice is quivering… I am wiping away snot with my shirt… terrified to get up and go to the bathroom for tissue. Afraid of what I may see.
- Bipolarmuse, he has been doing this since he was 13. None of us can save him. I know you love him but saving him is not your responsibility. -
She is always logical and wise. And she is right.
- Do you know what you are going to do? -
In a hushed voice… ~ No. ~
- I love you. Call me back… ok? -
~ I love you too. ~
I went into the bedroom where B is passed out on our bed and I lay next to him just listening to him breathe. I feel him move and he comes to.
- BABY GIRL. – His voice is raspy and his speech is not right… slurred… crackly.
- Baby girl, hand me the pills in the night stand. -
I get up out of the bed and went into the living room, I gave him no response.
He is searching the nightstand, pulling the drawer completely out… I can imagine he is tearing the room apart.
Finally he makes his way into the living room.
His movements are bizarre… He can’t move fluidly at all. His motion is very “jerky” and he is having a hard time walking.
- WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY PILLS?? -
I am scared to death. He looks beyond angry… he is ferocious and frightening. His wild look is magnified by his high.
~ I hid them B, you can’t have anymore. You are going to kill yourself. ~
- I just want to sleep baby girl. Fuck man. Just give them to me or I will tear this house apart looking for them. -
He goes into the kitchen and starts opening every cabinet drawer and every cabinet door. He is going to find them.
Certainly he does.
He walks passed me with both bottles in his hand. The other hand is helping him walk along the walls to go back to the bedroom.
I wait a few moments and then join him to go to sleep. I don’t sleep at all. Instead, I stay awake listening to his breathing pattern.
Once morning finally comes, I call my work and tell them I can’t come in today. I must watch him or he will surely die.
I start doing laundry to occupy my mind, but I check on B every few minutes. I simply do not know what to do. He has done this so many times before.
I am walking a load of laundry passed our bedroom door and notice something terrifying.
B is shaking… no, more like convulsing. His breathing is shallow. I cannot see the Iris of his eyes, they are pure black pupil. I run to grab a flashlight and shine it into his eyes… they are COMPLETELY unresponsive… they stay entirely black.
I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t just sit by and allow this man to kill himself. He can try again another time.
Grabbing the phone, I dial 911 and explain what is going on. Paramedics are on their way… I am told to get the medication out for them to determine how much he has taken in the last 24 hours.
They rush him to the hospital and I follow behind in my car.
When I get there, I am greeted by a Doctor and a Psychiatrist. They are asking me if he was trying to kill himself.
~ He is always trying to kill himself, but he just kept telling me he wanted to sleep. ~
A half hour passes and they call for me so I can go sit at B’s bed side. He is on a breathing machine… ya know, for people who cannot breathe on their own.
I break down crying once again because I know it must be a bad sign.
The Doctor approaches me and informs me that B has done permanent damage to his heart. What does this mean to me?? Did he have a heart attack??
The Doctor also said that they have him in a drug induced coma and at this point all that can be done is to wait it out. He cannot tell me whether he will be ok, or even wake up for that matter.
I call his family to let them know…
This isn’t a new routine for them. Nobody comes to see him…
It just me and B.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse♥ For Pills
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2002. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
For Pills
What the FUCK is going on??
I come home and find blood drops that lead into the kitchen.
Of course, I figure if B got a hold of a gun, there would not be a pathway created in blood. More like a pool and a body.
I rush into the kitchen, where the blood ends.
There’s blood on the carpet…all over the kitchen counter tops… running up and down B’s arm.
He is standing over the sink with his hand under the faucet. Maybe to clean it out??
Fucking GREAT. It’s the hand that he had surgery on to repair shattered bones and his knuckle. All that is left for two metacarpals is metal…and bolts.
~ What the fuck happened B? ~
My voice is on the edge of hysteria.
B gives me a wary glance, yet wearing that devilish grin.
- I was doing lawn work and one of the yard tools used for cutting limbs somehow got away from me and hit my bad hand. -
Blood is everywhere and I can’t get the blood to stop… it is just flowing out.
I grab one of his white tee shirts and wrap his hand tightly.
We are going to the emergency room.
After much urging because his blood was making a mess of the floor, they decided to see him quickly.
They stitch him back up but the metal was “visable” when I saw it in the kitchen. Did they remove it?? Keep it in place?
I don’t get it.
They prescribe him pain killers and muscle relaxers. YAY! Feed the fucking addict.
We get home and I take a good look at this “garden tool” that supposedly did the damage. This piece of equipment is so big and bulky, it would have taken off half his hand, if not the entire thing. It was not a jagged cut but more of a straight line following his scar.
Now I am doubting B’s story.
He had just moved to a new city to be with me and his normal pill suppliers were no longer around.
I confronted him of course…
~ B, did you cut your hand on purpose for pain pills? ~
The cackle. Of course the cackle… and the wild eyes too.
- No baby girl. Why would I do that to myself? I am already crippled in this hand. -
He is very literal. His right hand cannot make a fist or grasp a drinking glass as it is… why would he create more damage?
I didn’t trust it… or him.
I go searching through the tool box for a box cutter to open some boxes that still needed to be unpacked.
What do I find??
Take a WILD guess.
Inside the tool box were razor blades… one stained with blood.
He not only re-opened the old wound, revealing surgical steel underneath…but…
He did it for pills.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Wonder Woman
I can be your Wonder Woman.
Watch me spin nothingness…
and place the world into your hands.
I can give a glimpse of eternity.
Never whisper a promise…
Unless it can come to be.
I can be your Wonder Woman…
watch me light the corners of night…
Give you all, except who I am.
Take my hand and lets fly high…
I can take you to magnificent places…
Make every cell within come to life.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Creativity Flows
Creativity flows from the veins of madness and bleeds… drop by drop.~ Bipolarmuse ♥
Bleeding on paper as Hemingway said.
Writing is my creative outlet, my inspiration, my voice, my journey, my healing, my therapy.
It is interesting as I have always had a fondness for the arts. In junior high and high school, I played the viola in orchestra. I also played the alto sax for a year, taught myself basic piano, and taught myself to play the clarinet.
I know I have beaten this like a dead horse, but I began writing poetry at 11, and then songs in my teens. I would literally write the notes out and play them with my keyboard. I also love to sing and at one time, I was bearable to listen to. 
Now I just want to learn how to paint. One day. 
In the meantime, I will stick to words. They are my life in poetry and prose.
♥
Bipolarmuse♥ Left With Wondering Why
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2002. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
Left With Wondering Why
OH MY GOD.
I can’t breathe. All of the oxygen is being pulled from my lungs…
the tears hold it for ransom.
I can’t stop crying…all I can manage is to lay on the floor curled up into a ball.
Every muscle aching, on fire. Wanting to jump out of my skin.
I’m dying.
~~~
I got the dreaded call.
As always, my phone was off while I slept and I awoke to a new message.
- Hi Bipalarmuse, it’s J…call me as soon as you get this. I love you. -
This is it. This is the dreaded call. But what if it’s not. What if B is just putting her up to calling me to get me to talk to him.
I am hoping and praying as I dial her number.
- Hello? -
~ Is everything ok? ~
Hysteria is setting in.
- Bipolarmuse, B killed himself last night. He is gone. -
~ Oh no,no, NO. Did he overdose?? ~
- No, he shot himself. -
Just as he had said he would do. I was hoping to hear “overdose” because that COULD be accidental. What does it fuckin matter though, either way he is gone. GONE.
~ Oh my God J… he did it. ~
My voice is hard to control. Waves of physical sickness hit me with tremendous force. I am starting to die.
- Call his cousin and talk to him, he can go over all the details… and he could use a call from you. -
I can’t breathe.
I can’t see.
Salty tears are burning mascara into my eyes.
The details? Oh yes… the details of what led up to his death. That’s what she means. I can’t shake the shock that’s setting in.
~ Oh my God J… I was going to call him today. I told my friends last night at a birthday dinner that I was going to break down and call him today. I should have called last night! Are you sure it is him? 100% sure? ~
- He didn’t have his phone on him… there was nothing anyone could do… nobody could reach him. -
I was in shock. Maybe it was someone else… Maybe?
I couldn’t stop saying “no”. It just repeated over and over in my head… out of my mouth.
She gave me some of the details.
He ransacked his Moms purse for money… the locks were changed on the doors… he bought and installed a radio and/or speakers in a friends car… this friend kept a gun in the glove box… he stole the gun from this friend… later that night he was on some sort of drugs and just up and left from a friends house… the friends went out searching for him… they found him pulled over on the side of the road… they were to late… he was already gone… he had shot himself with a 9mm… my picture was on the steering wheel.
- Bipolarmuse, he loved you so much. He had a picture of you with him, it was on the steering wheel. He probably wanted you to know he loved you and wanted you to be the last person he saw. It was there out of love. I know that, otherwise I wouldn’t have told you. -
I am ill… my picture was there? Was it love, was it anger? What was the true meaning of my photo being there?? Why not a note explaining why?? Why??
I am forever left with wondering why?
© bipolarmuse 2012
Related articles
- Bipolarmuse♥ Here is the Ego (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ – The Gun (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse♥ GAME ON (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Here is the Ego- continued (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ The Ex… Pregnant? (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ I Waited (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Not On My Watch (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Sweet Smile (bipolarmuse.com)
So many Endings
With so many endings,
I create new beginnings.
I gave my best, I gave my all.
I fear it was not enough at all.
Your apathetic look hurts,
Like kerosene it burns.
I lost forever for an eternity,
I traded for that devil in me.
In your fortitude of saintliness,
I hope you reach bliss.
So many endings,
So many beginnings.
I hope you reach your forever,
While I bask in mine right here.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Edgar Alllan Poe Quote
“That which you mistake for madness is but an overacuteness of the senses.”
― Edgar Allan Poe
He nailed it. I love how, many moons ago, writers described cycles of melancholy as “madness”. It was common knowledge that many artists were touched with a sadness, an ‘overacuteness of the senses’. Most shared this common experience with fluctuating moods.
I definitely have ‘overacuteness of senses’.
I can’t begin to explain what it feels like to be in my body.
Touches feel like “scraping” or leave traces of extreme cold or heat. My head “sparks” as if I can feel every neuron firing off.
Sometimes it feels as though my entire body is tingling…an intoxicating feeling.
I have noticed that these extremes are felt during normal stages and in mania/hypo-mania/rapid cycling.
My moods are definitely reflected in my writings. The more depressed I am, the darker the poems become… as I lift up out of depression, my writings become more positive and infiltrated with hope and passion. Either way, I have learned that I am able to write even during the better of times… though it is more difficult. It is often that while climbing out of depression, I am most creative and motivated to be so.
Indeed, I would keep the “madness” in order to keep doing what I do. It’s worth it.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse’s Blog is Reaching Further Than Realized
I got a most wonderful email from Charlie whose blog is Sacred Meetings In Stillness. What he said in it blew my mind… for one because he was very uplifting in his message and because of something that is simply amazing…. here is an excerpt.
***
Bipolarmuse♥ GAME ON
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2002. The story is true to my memory and feelings in that moment. Thank you for taking the time to read… it truly means a-lot to me. **
GAME ON
He has been cheating on me. I knew it… had the gut instinct for a while. Noticed little signs…
Can’t get a hold of him at times, how he heads straight for the shower when he gets home from somewhere, how he asks me out of the blue if I am cheating on HIM. How his phone rings all hours of the night.
Classic.
For some reason I am eerily calm. I don’t fly off into a rampage, I don’t hit him or spit at him, I don’t scream and curse and throw shit.
I am calm.
We go to the pool with his cousin and his cousin’s Fiance. As we are wading in the water, I bring up his scandalous ways and nobody says a word.
I hear the cackle.
I look over at B and he has a very nervous look on his face but he simply cannot resist the fucking cackle.
At least it was a nervous one.
I simply smile and just stare at him.
Everyone is dead silent, and I begin to laugh… all the while my gaze SEARS into B.
I stop laughing but I have a devilish smile on my face.
B finally decides to break the silence.
- I think she is plotting to kill me. -
I laugh again because yes, thoughts of killing him certainly were in my head.
- I am sorry baby girl. I will never cheat on you again. I love you. That happened at the very beginning of our relationship anyhow. -
OOOoooohhhhh, that makes it alright in his fucked up head.
Besides, I don’t exactly believe him that it was only in the beginning. Maybe. But I don’t know.
~ I wonder how many pounds of pressure would be needed to crush your esophagus. ~
Everyone just stares at me.
Of course I am not wanting to kill him, but I certainly want him to sleep with one eye open.
That’s right B… GAME ON.
Sleep tight.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Related articles
- Bipolarmuse♥ Here is the Ego (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ He is “OUT” (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ I NEED HELP (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Sweet Smile (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Playboy (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Not On My Watch (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ The Ex… Pregnant? (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Not With A 10 Foot Pole (bipolarmuse.com)
- Bipolarmuse ♥ Barrel in your mouth. (bipolarmuse.com)
This is my life through poetry, quotes, and my journal. The intense ride of my ups and downs of life ...and the relentless mood disorders I suffer from.
