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As you have probably seen (or not seen) I haven’t been around lately. For a myriad (anyways wanted to use that word) of reasons. Some have to do with Florida. Others with family and kids, and the obvious one is: TA-DA! Bipolar 1.

First: I’ve been spending about if time with Florida-Skype, texting, phone calls, and he even came up during his during break. I REALLY REALLY REALLY wish I could say it was bliss and happy and love but that would be a lie and purjury and I’m too fucked up to go to jail. Sassafrains, it was HARD. So so so so hard. Because I have basically been single for two years and I haven’t had to share my space or my ideals and opinions with anyone other than myself. I’m in foreign territory, navigating a relationship and a long distance one at that with a guy that is old enough to be my son. (please no comments on that right now. I’m liable to snap and I can’t be responsible for stupid people)  He’s so insecure when it comes to my “relationship” with DB because he’s afraid that though I am still legally married to him, that I will and want to go back to him. And no amount of reassurance of the contrary is changing his view. And it hurts so good damn bad that all I do is wanna cry. And I don’t when I get the chance. Because it feels like he doesn’t have faith in me or trusts me. And that makes me feel as if I’m not good enough. Yes, that’s just dysfunctional brain and Bipolar and Anxiety and a lil bit of PTSD running they’re damn mouths, but you can rationalize with those bastards. Assholes. But it’s all a trigger and takes me right back to being in that moment of a relationship with DB. And all those fucking fight or flight adrenaline junkie feelings come racing through my body and I freeze, then I lash out. And then I’m told to get over it. That’ll really make a girl feel like the she’s the most important one in your life. No amount of I’m sorry or I didn’t mean it that way and I love you will ease the damage that’s just been added on to the OTHER damage. So, you pull back, retreat into yourself for protection. (Then you science 12 hours in the car on Easter Sunday trying to make sure he gets home for school in Monday because you really do love him and school/an education is important)

The next major thing has been Mr family and especially Thing 1 and Thing 2. Monkey has had a terrible, ungrateful and sassy attitude for some unknown reason. Most Sundays when she comes back from DB’s is pure hell trying to get her ready for bed for school on Monday morning. NSLM had just down right been an asshole. He doesn’t care about shit-not school, not being here or at DB’s or the distraught attitude he’s giving everyone here. And I’m trying to make sure that he can still go to the high school next year of the district he’s in now, and I’m frazzled but still trying. Dance with Monkey and next school year. My heathens have been on spring break so it’s been extra rough with the sleeping patterns… And I am loathe to think of how next week will go once school starts back up. My parents are struggling as dad is the only income and my food stamps only help so much. I feel like I’m worthless, financially.

Last and FAR from last is my lovely and dear friend, Bipolar 1. Oh how I love to hate you and hate to love you. You ever changing need to fuck with my meds is such a joy. The fact you can turn a perfectly wonderful day into a hurricane in moments are the days I live for. The days you take away all light and life from me for no reason other than you can are joyous occasions. The days you give me manic energy and I clean like the Queen of England, the Dahli Lama and that crazy Korean dictator are coming for dinner are the best! (Sasscasm) 
I DON’T like when I’m so depressed I don’t eat or bathe for up to a week or more. I DON’T like when all the joyful time I spend with my kids is turned to bleakness because of one errant and rampant thought floating through my head for NO FUCKING REASON. And I SURE AS HELL DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO FUCKING NOT enjoy cleaning for HOURS upon HOURS to the point my family avoids me for fear of setting me off on an unrelated tirade that has ZERO to do with why I started to clean in the first PLACE-SQUIRREL!

IT ALL FUCKING SUCKS DONKEY BALLS COVERED IN HOT SAUCE. All I’ve wanted for so long was some fucking stability, some peace. And Bipolar and karma are both laughing maniacally at me because they know the truth.

Most of us with Bipolar NEVER peace of any kind. Because it sucks the level out of any chance at baseline, no matter the meds, therapy, coping skills or hospital stays. Bipolar is our ghost that lives to haunt us until we are no longer a part of this world either by insanity or suicide. *Please for the fucking love of the sacred Pegacorn do NOT come on here and blast me about condoning or choosing suicide because I’m fucking not* This is my hell right now.