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
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Bipolarmuse ♥ I Waited
** 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. **
It is suffice to say
You are on my mind each day.
Every song that is played
Spins you in my mind like a screenplay.
I waited
B is in his home town now and I expect that to officially be the end. He doesn’t have a phone number or address for me, nor me for him.
Yet he calls my work periodically leaving his number.
Just knowing that he is calling for me has me frantic and sick. I can’t do it anymore.
I can’t save him… my love will never be enough. This has been an excruciating fact to come to.
I tell the receptionist to just throw away his number and not to allow me to have it.
He is my drug, I may fiend for him and take him back.
However, I ask for the number after one of his calls. She freely gives it after a-lot of pleading.
I call from the work pay phone so he wouldn’t have my cell number.
The phone is ringing…
- Hi babygirl! I miss you so much. -
~ Hi B. How are you. ~
-When you coming back to me baby? -
~ I don’t know if that is going to happen. ~
- Promise me we will be back together again. -
~ I can’t promise that B, but I will try. ~ I lied.
- I love you baby girl. -
~ Me too B. ~
I hang up the phone.
I now have his number and it took all the strength I had to throw it away.
This man is delusional and I just fed into his delusions.
~~~~~
I haven’t heard from him for about a month…
Yet today… he has called again… with a message for me with significant meaning.
- Tell Bipolarmuse to keep the rest of my things. -
I almost threw up right then and there when I heard this.
It was the end.
I didn’t have hardly any of his belongings because he sold them all before he left.
This was a message… not about belongings… but about his plan.
I knew then and there that his death was imminent.
All I could do was wait for the other shoe to drop.
So I waited.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Keep your Spark
You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it. ~ Robin Williams
Ahhhh… the spark of madness. All you need is a spark, not a blazing fire.
We all have this spark inside, for some it is stronger. It needs to be cultivated and used in a productive way.
Let your light inside, not only inspire you, but use it to inspire others. Be that beacon in the dark.
Who would I be without this malfunctioning mind?
I don’t want to find out.
I am liking me.
Stay strong my friends and keep your spark… If you feel you have lost it, you haven’t, it just needs rekindled.
♥
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse ♥ Love Me In Perfection
** 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. **
Love Me In Perfection
These are the moments that I love. Makes all the frustration, anxiety, mental pain, and sadness worth being endured.
It’s quiet… just muffled sounds dance in my ears.
The only light being from the glow of the TV.
Sipping hot tea.
Sitting on the loveseat with B… laying back, just a little… resting against the arm of the sofa.
Legs entwined.
One hand molded perfectly to his… my body melting into him.
The heat of his gaze on my face…
His sweet lips on my face.
- You are my hero, my everything baby girl. -
I don’t speak… I just kiss his lips.
Love oozes from every pore of me. I am alive…. on fire with passion for this man.
I want to save him… from himself.
Why is he so loving and affectionate tonight?
Does it matter?
I hold his gaze…
Indeed, pin-dot pupils in a dark room.
It’s ok B, for tonight.
Be high and love me in perfection.
© bipolarmuse 2012
The Beauty Of Bipolar Disorder
What’s fantastic about being Bipolar 1 ?! Actually, there is a-lot to be grateful for…
I tend to operate in excessive emotions and tend to be very passionate.
I have the gift of words and have been a poet as long as I can remember.
I have a keen understanding of “what goes up must come down… then back up again” and can prepare for each.
When I have great ideas, they are indeed great.
When in a perfect state of Mania, I experience the type of euphoric high that people pay for.
I am perpetually in lust.
Being Bipolar, while at its worst is very bad, but when it is at its best, there is nothing like it. Perhaps that is why substance abuse is a co-morbid disorder… we are constantly in search of that perfect mania euphoria. Just maybe.
I certainly get my lows and impulsivity from this disorder… yet I also get my extreme passion and emotion. I can feel every particle of my being to the best of extremes and to the worst.
Embrace the beauty!!
Top 10 Terrific Things About Bipolar
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Bipolarmuse ♥ Here is the Ego- continued
** 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. **
Here is the Ego- continued
B slowly pulls into the drive.
The police tell him to slowly exit the vehicle, and he did.
Where was the gun?? I couldn’t see it in either of his hands…
B certainly is not an idiot as he is now proving. He knew the current law about guns and made sure it was sitting in plain fucking sight within the car.
Busy talking to the police, I call his parents to tell them I am outside. His Dad comes out through the garage and ushers me into the house.
I was in shock at how everything was going down. I felt sick, anxious, scared to death of what was going to happen. A rotten taste in my mouth, vile acids sneaking their way to my throat.
B’s Dad keeps going in and out of the house. I believe he is mediating and prying for information… though I couldn’t be sure of anything. Everyone wanted to know why B was taking a gun to his parents house.
Certainly he had a plan.
“To scare everyone” was the so-called plan. “He would never hurt anyone other than himself”…
Well, I can say I am gleefully happy to have ruined his fun (muahaha)… now he gets to have the police involved. Maybe that will be enough to scare the shit out of him and prevent him from acting up further.
I could only get so lucky!
I finally went outside once things were calm and I found B completely at ease with the cops, discussing a career as an officer of the law, just shootin’ the shit, feeling some sort of camaraderie with them because he was in Loss Prevention.
What the fuck ever.
Everyone was now at ease and giving B a pep-talk. “You have a great life with a beautiful girl”, “Maybe you both should move to Vegas to be near Bipolarmuses kids”, “You can accomplish anything”, “You have everything going for you”…. blah, blah, blah.
I was involved with the pep-talk bullshit…but I was experiencing the whole situation almost in an out of body experience. I wasn’t ‘present’ at all, but observing from a distance, though I was clearly in the center of the mayhem.
The gun… where did the gun go??
Somehow, B had purchased the gun for a few hundred dollars. How? I can only imagine all the creative ways that B comes up with when it comes to getting money. But nope!
Where did he get the money for the gun… from our joint fucking account to be sure.
Now, I am gonna kill him.
The gun needed to go… pronto… in a jiffy…snap snap… NOW.
I then realize why we were there so long. Yet, baffled. Why didn’t the police take him down to mental health and have him held because he was obviously a danger to himself and to others. Why weren’t his parents taking that action? Could I??
Since the gun was legally owned and B had every right to exercise his right to bare arms. It couldn’t be taken by the police, and surely he knows not to trust me with it.
I made plans to leave, move out, be done with this crazy man. I knew it was futile though… he was my smack.
So instead, I went home with B.
When we got home, he hands me a check.
The cost of peace of mind for today… $1000.00
His Dad now owns the gun.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Random Possibilities
I like to live in a world of random possibilities.~ Bipolarmuse ♥
I am a thinker… as I think many of us with mood disorders are. Nothing is ever as simple as it should be. I have to dive into my mind and find hidden truths. Some people are happy with what is…and while I, at times, enjoy that… I also enjoy what could be and is yet to be revealed.
Tomorrow is surely to be different from today. Of course it has the similarities of yesterday, but it is profoundly different.
I have choices…each to lead to a different ending… only for the ending to be changed again. I like that.
I like to wander in this world without limits… of possibilities… random possibilities.
That is where I live.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse♥ Here is the Ego
** 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. **
Here Is The Ego
- Come with me to my parents house. -
B is frantic. His forehead is beaded with sweat and his eyes are wild and darting around like a mad man. He is highly agitated. He is angry. He is vengeful.
~ I don’t see how going over there is going to help anything. I think chilling out is the best option right now and then go and talk to them. ~
I am trying desperately to keep him at the house. Nothing feels right. His anger and anxiety have reached a new high and I am very frightened over what is going to happen next.
Apparently he is upset at his parents over something, I think over a vehicle. You see, B has always had nice vehicles paid for by his parents, and while he is currently driving a company SUV, he is not happy about it. But hey, privileges are removed when you act up…and B was great at acting up.
- Either fucking come with me and be by my side as my fiance who supports me… or… -
B is shaking his head in disgust and disbelief that I am refusing to go along.
How do I extinguish this before escalates into something tragic?
I swear I am at my breaking point with this man.
B, his cackle so devious, his eyes WILD, his lips dangerously curved into a wicked smile… he pulls out a nice large gun.
Where the fuck did that come from?! I have taken away guns. We agreed he is never to own one, so where did this come from??
-You won’t go and support me… do you not care and see how unfair this all is? -
~ B, give me the gun. This is no time to have a gun out. ~
- What are you afraid of baby girl? -
He cackles, eyes set on fire and uncontrollably wild.
- Are you afraid I will do this?! -
Everything is in slow motion at this point.
He slowly takes the hand the gun is in and lifts it up toward his face.
I inhale to scream in protest but can’t find words… nor the air needed to fill my lungs.
Everything is so slow. It feels like it is taking an eternity to place that gun in his mouth.
Yet, time stands still for nobody, and he manages to place the gun in the very place he will certainly one day use to end his life.
I stand there… frozen. Finally I find my voice…
~Baby, please don’t do this… it isn’t worth it! I need you so much. What would I be without you?!~
In excruciatingly slow motion, he removes his mouth from around the barrel and brings the gun down to his side.
I am in the midst of chaos… insanity.
- Either you come with me or not, but I am going and I would really like your support. -
B heads out of the apartment and right down to the car.
I race out …chasing him.
I open the passenger door of the car…standing with one leg in and the rest of me out. B is standing just outside the driver door.
I take note of the little kids playing so close by, and the big shiny gun in B’s hand.
~ I will go with you… but let me take the gun upstairs to our apartment. ~
- FUCK THAT. I want them to see what they do to me. -
~ B, please give me the gun and we can go talk to them, or lets stay here. What do you need to prove with that gun anyways! ~
- I love you baby girl. Are you afraid I will do this in front of everyone… -
B calmly places the barrel of the gun in his mouth again, this time he maintains eye contact with me.
I shut my eyes. Seared into my mind is that last image… the gun in his mouth.
I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the “bang”… all the while worried about those poor kids that are now watching… looking terrified.
I open my eyes and scream at the kids to go home.
~ Go home now! ~
Just as I did, B removed the gun from his mouth and jumped into the car.
- Come with me and support me, or don’t. -
I stepped out of the car and chose not to go.
The tires squealed as he maniacally pulled out.
Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!
I must call his parents.
I dial their phone number immediately…
- Hello? -
~ You need to lock up the house or leave! B is on the way over, he is acting crazy…and he is bringing a gun. I am sorry, I tried stopping him. ~
- Thank you for calling to let us know, I am going to call the police. -
I call B over and over but he will not answer his phone. I figured the police would be a deterrent.
I jump in my car and head to his parents house. I beat him there and notice that his parents have completely locked down the house. The police are there.
I watch B’s car slowly pull up.
He gets out and is comically irritated. Donning that devilish smirk, wild eyes, cackling. Here is the ego.
© bipolarmuse 2012
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My Inspiration
My inspiration for writing I held You For a Moment.
~~~
I was looking through old pictures, trying to find some pics of B, and I sadly reminded myself that I have only a few. None of us together. Where they have all gone is beyond me. I didn’t get any pictures back from his collage at his funeral but I am certain I still had “some”.
They are completely gone.
The pictures I did find stopped me in my tracks.
I found his viewing/funeral pictures.
Yes, I took pictures of him in his casket.
I can remember thinking (at his viewing) that he looked so good. You have to remember that I believe I saw B at his worst when alive… so that doesn’t help with my observation.
I did hold him a moment… in a picture… in my hands.
I stared at the picture and realized just how horrible he did look… how different than what I remember. I thought he was so beautiful at his services.
And now…
Well now, I just want some real pictures.
♥
I Held You For A Moment
I held you for a moment,
Breath paused, hands trembling.
You feel so nice in my hands.
I am in awe, fascinated.
Your skin, I want to touch badly
I whisper for just “The chance”.
I held you for a moment
Time ended, moments stopped.
I feel the depths of your dreams.
You pull at me, pull me under…
Your eyes held me, entranced.
As I lay you in the dusty box of broken dreams.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse ♥ Sweet Smile
** 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. **
Sweet smile
It is serious this time. No going back.
I packed B and the items he can fit on an airplane into the car and we drive to the airport. He is talking, mumbling something, but all I can hear is the muffled sounds in my head. Maybe my heartbeat? Each breath taken in?
The goodbye was short with a kiss on the cheek. I didn’t even bother with watching him walk away, I just pulled away from the curb at the drop off area and headed towards work.
That was it, it was over.
He had nothing to come back for because he sold all of his belongings for pills and getting his hands on a gun. Thank God he didn’t have enough money for the gun… but the pills, yes he got his fix.
~~~
The end was torture. He spent every single day, all day, in bed crying.
My kids thought he was “sick” all the time and I just agreed.
Yes, he was sick.
Did I mention I was glad he couldn’t get a gun? Without the gun, I wasn’t so afraid of his final exit. I had come to know him enough that I believed he would certainly be leaving this world with a bang.
- Don’t worry baby girl. You won’t come home and find me dead. I would drive off in your car, pull over somewhere, and shoot myself.-
Of course my eyes seared into him. I didn’t have the fight in me any longer.
~Can you do it outside of my car? I kind of need it and you will leave a bloody mess.~
He cackles.
-I looked into life insurance to leave for you. Doesn’t cover suicide.-
I stop flipping through my magazine.
~Yea… I figured as much. You would have to get crafty and make it look accidental. Somehow that would unravel.~
We stare at each other for a minute.
He has a sweet smile at times. When he is just raw and sincere.
This is the smile I see as I am driving away.
** 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. **
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Check out– i’ve turned my face to the wall
My bestie Sean, who writes alltheavenueslookugly, has started a new blog. His original blog (alltheavenueslookugly) is more of a journal that takes us on a ride in his mind with mental disorders and really shows us the ugly side of what these disorders can do to you. His writing is very raw and intense… and is not sugar coated in the least.
His new blog is i’ve turned my face to the wall. I stole this excerpt from his journal describing this new blog:
**the new blog is the book i have been writing on for quite a while.
i’ve turned my face to the wall
be warned: this is not necessarily in the form it will be published in, and i am waiting on making edits and such until later. i thought it might be kind of fun to see it from an earlier start to where it will eventually become. i won’t be posting the complete book on there, as then there would really be no reason to read it when it is published. but there will be quite a bit. there will also be some other goodies coming later, including other works, links to some amazing writers, and other things.
so if you like it, please follow it, share it with your friends, etc.** Pimp it out my friends!
This book is not a memoir but some pieces are true and some are fiction. Awesome right?? I think so but I am constantly wondering what parts are real… and who is Molly?? I wanna know!! Since he and I are friends, I could ask, but I also want the excitement of just “experiencing” the book. What I also like is that the page lengths vary… some are very short, more poetic…while others dive into the storyline.
Enough of me telling you about it… check it out. His writing is intense and raw and his style makes it so easy and fluid to read. Don’t be surprised if you are like me and saying, “Sean… now is this part truth or fiction”?? I love it.
i’ve turned my face to the wall
Show Me
Don’t give me the world,
It is not for me to have.
Show me its glory,
From your backyard instead.
Don’t give forever,
For it isn’t to be had.
Stop the hands of time,
Show me timeless instead.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse ♥ Playboy
** 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. **
Playboy
I slide my key into the keyhole and walk through the door of the apartment.
I notice instantly that the apartment is clean, smelling of a lovely burning candle, and that there is absolutely zero clutter. B must be in his “spring” cleaning mode. I have seen this a time or two before… within the last month or so.
I almost, just almost, start to think he is someone a little OCD”ish” about cleanliness. Then it hits me! He is like this from time to time, not all the time… so obviously OCD is out of the question. Clearly he has some issues upstairs… but figuring out the issues is not my thing… dealing with them is.
I am quite pleased that I don’t have to come home from work and do anything other than figure out dinner. I am smiling as I walk into our immaculate bedroom, fully equipped with 3 mattresses and mirrors on the ceiling, and I set down my purse.
B is in the shower, CD player blasting out Offspring.
Uh-Oh. Serious, Uh-Oh. Offspring is a sure fire indicator of a super smug, arrogant, and amped up B.
LOOOOVELYYYYYY.
I start taking notice of my environment because clearly I am missing something. B + Offspring = trouble. Don’t ask me why or how I know this, it just seems to be the way that it is.
I go back into the living room.
How the fuck could I miss what I am seeing?!
B has changed the background of the fish tank… to PLAYBOY magazine pages. Seriously. The entire fish tank is lined with naked women.
My cheeks start to become hot and flushed. Not because of the naked women but because of the fucking point.
Not only was the fish tank used as a platform for playboy playmates, but so was the glass coffee table. Instead of seeing crystalline, shiny, clean glass… Naked women are staring at me from underneath where they have been meticulously taped in place. FABULOUS! We can set our drinks down without ruining the beautiful pages of Playboy. (Sarcasm, sarcasm, sarcasm!)
Wow. B has surely out done himself this time. Taking it to new heights daily! That should be his fucking motto.
I go into our closet to grab clothes to change into because there’s going to be a fight tonight, and am not stunned one bit to see the top of the closet wall completely LINED with all of the playboy centerfolds, ya know, the bitches that fold out. Yes, those ones.
B didn’t even discriminate. We have women with racing strips, triangles, bare as bare can get, 80′s bush, striped like Vanilla Ice‘s eyebrow…you name it, I am looking at it.
The shower turns off and I hear the bathroom door open.
Then… the infamous cackle! Obviously he is aware that I am home and that I am undoubtedly finding his lovely choice of background paper.
You would think that I would just start ripping the shit off of everything but, oh no, I want to drag this fight out.
Is something wrong with me?!
Yep, and that something is B.
I am afraid that if he wants to look at Playboy pinups at every glance, then he needs to compromise and allow me the right to Playgirl ganders.
Which will he enjoy least? A compromise, or the fight. I am going to say the compromise. (wink, wink)
** 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. **
© bipolarmuse 2012
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Before The End
Before The End
In uncomfortable moments of discontent…
Silence prevails, as it is meant.
A Tame tongue and darting eyes…
Keeps truth from parting lips. Rumors hide.
~
When is sorrow, profound, meant to be?
And countless tears turn into a sea?
When is a mountain of courage needed by all?
Before the end. The crumble and the fall.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse ♥ ~Haunted~
HAUNTED
Dark and chilled.
Shivers travel my spine.
Come on and take a ride…
With me through my world.
~~~… (“I love you baby girl”)…~~~
Is that you??
Baby boy, was that you I heard?
Please come, I’d like you to learn,
This void within my world.
~~~… (“Ten times more baby girl”)…~~~
Sad and broken.
In my heart, misery exists.
Your smell on my skin. Taste on my lips.
Are you in my world?
~~~… (“I love you more baby girl”)…~~~
Where are you?
You’ve forgotten. Remember the promise?
The shivers, chills, your breath on my back… HAUNTED.
Please come to my world.
~~~… (“I miss you baby girl”)…~~~
I WANT IT!
Screaming madly in my head…
Have I gone mad instead?
I WANT IT…
to be HAUNTED.
Like you promised…
HAUNTED.
Welcome to my world…
~~~… (“Hugs and kisses baby girl”)…~~~
© bipolarmuse 7.24.2002
**This poem was written nearly two month to the day after the suicide of my ex. It was no surprise that he killed himself, he talked about it all the time. I made him promise to haunt me if he did die, and I can honestly say I feel like I was haunted for quite some time.
Every passage ~~~…(“like this”)…~~~ was something I found written in my books, photo albums, or on slips of paper hiding in places for me to find. They were truly his words that I found within the first year after his death. I incorporated his verbal “hauntings” into this poem that was written nearly 10 years ago. Just something I wanted to share. ♥ **
Bipolarmuse ♥ I NEED HELP
** 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. **
Grim Reaper (advertisement) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I NEED HELP
Yea, I am cool, calm, and collected.
Once B is done reacting the way that he normally does (being pissed off at everyone other than himself). Things settle down into a normal,yet new routine.
The ex-girlfriend is pregnant. B had found out about it when he and I had been dating about a month…. or so he says. And then decided not to tell me. In fact, I found out the wonderful news from his Uncle when the Ex-rirlfriend was approximately 4-5 months pregnant.
Supposedly B didn’t tell me right away because he was waiting to see if she was going to change her mind about keeping the baby. (She told him she was keeping it, yet somehow he felt she would change her mind). Classic B style. I am starting to realize I can’t trust a word that B says and to take everything with a grain of salt, EVERYTHING.
Makes for a GREAT relationship. (Can you hear the sarcasm?? I certainly hope so).
We had our blowout fight… Bipolarmuse screams and cries, and manages to hit B a couple times… B manages to reflect my hits and cackle while I cry. Nothing out of the norm.
He seems a bit “down” lately, but he had quite a-lot to be upset about.
Fuck his down moods and the pills he has in his cabinet that he only takes on rare occasions. I’ve had to stop taking baths for fear of drowning myself.
In fact, all of my thoughts revolve around death… B’s, my own… by his hand, by my hand.
I am spiraling down, out of control… and it is finally slapping me in the face. I am finally seeing, for the first time, the dire state I am in.
My attention is in the hands of the grim reaper.
I NEED HELP.
** 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. **
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Precarious ~ Haiku
Have you met my soul?
She’s a precarious thing.
Your silence proves it.
© bipolarmuse 2012
Bipolarmuse ♥ The Ex… Pregnant?
** 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. **
The Ex… Pregnant?
It is a busy fucking night at work… got to get my hustle on to make that cash. That is what I love about being a food server, you can hustle for more tables, hustle the guests (in a nice way of course), hustle the bartenders, and it all ends up as more money in my pocket. Can’t hate a girl for trying to make a living.
B is off tonight, of course. It is the weekend and somehow he managed to be off on a Saturday night… I am sure he planned it that way, fully knowing that I would be busy working.I can never take weekends off if I plan on making any decent money.
I have talked to B a couple times from work and nothing seems out of the ordinary. He is his arrogant, cocky self.
The cousins Dad likes to come in and have dinner and drinks up at the bar every now and then… and since I am dating his nephew, I have gotten to know him a bit. I notice he is here and I stop by for a quick hello.
~How’s it going this week? You’re lookin’ good.~
- No, young lady, YOU are lookin’ good. – wink wink.
- I just have to say that it’s really cool how you’re handling the ex-girlfriend thing.-
The ex-girlfriend thing. Hmmm. Well, B has an ex-girlfriend whose name pops up from time to time, but nothing about her stands out other than they were together since high school. I’ve seen pics of her and she is pretty, but whatever, I’m not worried about anything.
~Yea, not a big deal. She seems like a cool girl.~
- Well, I mean, with her being pregnant and everything… I would say your taking it pretty fucking good.-
What the fuck did he just say?? The room begins to spin and I am literally seeing stars. I can barely talk but manage.
~Yea, I’m cool like that.~ wink.
I start walking to a side wall that has a phone on the opposite side. I quickly tuck behind the wall and grab the phone.
I feel like I can barely walk, stand, move, BREATHE.
Did I fucking hear him right?? B’s ex is pregnant? How far along is she? Did he cheat on me and get her pregnant? Has she been pregnant all along and he has kept it from me?
I dial B’s number.
Here we go… just one more fuckin’ thing to add to the already mountain of shit that we have for a relationship. We JUST got back together from a “little” break. Can anything go “right”? Fuck no. Not with B.
-Hi baby girl, is work slow or what?-
~Your ex is fucking pregnant?~
- What THE FUCK man…- CLICK.
He fuckin’ hung up on me. SERIOUSLY?!
Well, I got my answer… the ex is definitely pregnant.
Now I have to decide… does B stay or go?
© bipolarmuse 2012
** 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. **
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Always Keep Trying
I LOVE this quote. Courage comes in all different forms and I believe that even when we feel defeated… when we make the decision to try again tomorrow… it takes a great amount of courage to do so.
It is not easy to feel life beat you down every single day…to feel like every effort is made with pain, made in vain. But to make the decision to move forward and to try again day after day. That is true courage.
I know for myself, the silent roar of courage made behind the veil of tears have been my most courageous moments. Those have been the moments that took the most strength and willpower to move forward and not give up.
Don’t feel that you are weak… every single day you make the effort to get up… to go about your day no matter how difficult it can be… and every single day, whether it ends in tears or starts with tears… you resolve to keep trying.
That is strength and that is courage. I applaud you.
My friends, you are not alone. Your struggles are never in vain… please know that you have purpose. ♥
Bipolarmuse ♥ Can you say Psycho?!
Can you say Psycho?!
I am beginning to truly realize what I have gotten myself into. Aside from his desire to die, I am learning quick that B is more than I bargained for…
B is a man-whore. His phone is constantly ringing, he is always silencing his phone, and then he listens to the messages from what he thinks is a safe distance from me hearing. WRONG. And what I hear is NON-STOP girl-whores asking him to come over… “I don’t care if you have a girlfriend now”, “lets hang out like old times”. BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. This shit will either stop, or I will become crazy.
Guess which comes first.
So I do what any “normal” girlfriend would do and figure out the code to get into his voice-mail, and I listen to his messages. That’s right. I have become that girl.
The first try was easy, got it right away. His favorite combo of numbers entered twice. (See ladies, it does pay off to know your mans favorite numbers). I don’t even feel ashamed that I check his messages and then leave them on his phone so that later, when he checks them, they are still there yet not listed as “new messages”. I am flaunting my new possessed skill in his face.
Then the number changes. He finally got smart. Not smart enough though because it takes me all of 1 minute to realize he used his sons birthday. So once again I am back in the business of having access to all of his voice-mail messages.
He changes the code several times and I manage to figure out EACH new code. I am a proud crazy woman.
What I hear is highly disturbing and I get a thrill out of it. I have become the crazy ass girlfriend/fiance. Ya know, the one who looks through phone records, sneaks into his messages, calls the girl-whores to tell them that they better back the fuck off because I am not opposed to slicing fake titties off of a bitch. Yes, I said that.
Who have I become??? Can you say Psycho?! This is not me at all. I have become crazy and completely obsessed with B and his shenanigans. Instead of using it as an excuse to leave the relationship, I use it as bait to get into bigger fights. Bigger fights = a bigger make up. The more crazy I get, the happier B seems to be. The more “destined” we are for each other. (Insert sarcasm for that last sentence).
One specific woman that B works with is relentless and I believe she is getting off on all of this crazy attention. So what does she do?? She calls B more often, leaving messages that would send any girlfriend (especially the crazy kind) into a fucking frenzy.
I have had it with her. I am nuts… I don’t even recognize myself anymore as I go stomping into his employment and to this lady-whores department. She is lucky that a glass counter separates us. I lean in close so she can hear me…
~If you do not leave my Fiance the fuck alone, I am going to come in here and put that lovely little face of yours through the fucking glass counter. (SMILE)~
She is completely silent and backed away as far as she can get from me.
Mission accomplished. The bitch never called again.
The next time I happened to see her was at B’s funeral. Good girl for doing what you were told.
© bipolarmuse 2012
** This is a little excerpt of my life that took place in the year 2000/2001. 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. **
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.
