Fear isn’t driving anymore!

It is no secret that my life revolves around men. It always has.

Last February I broke up with my last relationship that lasted two years. I did continue to see him throughout the summer even though he started a new relationship. I have issues with letting go of things – mostly men.

I fish with him. It is a hobby of mine … pretty serious one and a very precious one. I compete in bass tournaments. He’s one of my partners.


That’s not him in the picture. That was last weekend at a Breast Cancer fund raiser I fished in. We did pretty well in it, but I fished for the charity of it and was proud to say that the tournament raised a lot of money for the cause!

Onto the point of this entry…. I have been fishing a lot with my eX. We have been talking a lot about us. What was right… what was wrong… We love each other very much still and I knew that. But, most importantly, we like each other so much.

We’ve had all summer to do whatever we wanted. He decided to “move on” and enjoy his summer. I was just going to try to live and figure myself out.

So we talked this weekend while we were fishing.. There’s no where to go when you are on a 19 foot Ranger boat. As I babbled, which is what I do a lot of when I fish. I’m not sure how any of my partners deal with it. Although they say they love it. Keeps them from over-analyzing too much on the water….  I realized that this summer all the hell that I went through I came out on this other side of myself….. not afraid of who I am anymore….

Yep… that was the big revelation that I made on the Ranger… out in the middle of the river…that day.  I’m not afraid of my crazy anymore. I’m not afraid of what people think. I’m not afraid of putting myself out there for someone love.. I’m not afraid of loving myself anymore. I’m not afraid of trusting my judgement anymore. I’m not afraid of being alone with myself….. I’m. not. afraid. of. my. mental. illness. anymore!

I’ve been hiding behind all of this for so long.

No one could love me.

I couldn’t love me.

I couldn’t trust me.

No one could trust me……. and as long and I thought those things about myself …. I was stuck…… but, I have been feeling so much better lately… and I realized that… with the help of my meds and my doctors and MYSELF…. I just didn’t know what was up… new meds? Something had seriously changed.

The key was that I had changed. I was taking care of myself. I wasn’t afraid anymore.

Fear wasn’t driving my decisions any longer. I was.

I don’t know that I am ready to get back with Lee. My bipolar impulsiveness says, YES YES YES! But, I’m cautious. We have talked a lot about things. He has opened up more in a month then he did in the two years we were together. I have found a medicine combination that is working so well.

It just feels so good to not be afraid right now. That’s all I know. 🙂

The Collection Grows

Happiness exists when you don’t know a thing
So I hope you don’t think this song is about you
And only I can know how close you came
But baby I’m a pro at letting go
I love it when they come and go

Therapy mans tells me… as I’m sitting there sobbing, gasping for air…. that nothing has changed from last week. Everything is ok. I’m ok. My life is good. And I wonder… as I’m sobbing, gasping for air… if I’m doing so because he is actually correct and there is nothing wrong? At least on the outside!

Fucked up?

I know, right?

But that is usually how my life works. I am the most messed up when there is nothing wrong at all and my life is actually going along just fine…. on the outside!

And so…. I just try to float around in my life and not really pay attention to the things around me. Let it all just happen and then I don’t know really if things are good or things are bad and then I can’t react. Which seems really fucked up because I’m 49 years old and I have serious responsibilities. Of course…

But thinking hurts.

Happiness hurts.

Happiness is hard.

Fuck it. Life is hard… and we all know that. It’s just that… thinking about it is so confusing right now for me because I’ve been in this manic thing… most likely considered an episode. My doctor doesn’t really “define” them and my therapist stays away from really making a big deal about definitions and just talks more about how to get through the next day or week or weekend…

And so I just try to do the same. Don’t get caught up in diagnosis… get caught up in the surviving…

Last post was about collecting things… men. I have added to the collection. I don’t know wtf my problem is. I don’t know the fascination. I haven’t figured out the need. Obviously there is a huge hole or something. But, I do know that mentally – not sexually – but, mentally without this collection I am a mess.

Mentally to a point that it turns physical. You know that anger that turns physical in your body?? Anyone?? yeah… someone has to understand that. I’ve been in enough groups that someone knows that feeling. Well… that’s the feeling I get right now and if I can’t get one of these dudes to talk to me… I can’t settle down.. and it’s not about the sex… I could care less about that part… God, it’s messed up!

Oh, it’s so not good.

But on the outside looking in… I’m golden.

Therapy Man knows everything. He knows I’m faking it to make it. I think he wants me to reach out of this mess and hold onto the good stuff and realize that’s really what I am about.

AND I KNOW that I really am about that. But this fucking monster inside of me is eating me alive……….. Jesus… I don’t even know.

We all want out of it… when we get stuck. I think I get the answer and it works. Until the next time when I find myself “collecting” again.

There are never any answers. There is never the right medication. It’s all about whether or not I’m willing to start on a new path… the problem is I never let go of anything. The last post I said that lose everything I collect. I realized after I wrote it that it’s not entirely true. I don’t lose the men… and they are the ones I should lose…

I tried years ago to figure out why I have the need to collect the men in the first place. Therapy Man doesn’t seem to think that’s important – that the search would be endless. He’s probably right… or, it could be too painful to deal with…

It’s probably more necessary to deal with the addiction that it really is. But, as I said in the last post… I have issues with that also.

I don’t know… Something is going to have to give.

Let’s Go Crazy One More Time!!!

We’ll chase the moon, ride the stars
Find the muscle in this car
I know it’s still got something left
Yeah come on out, take my hand
Feel my heart, girl understand
I gotta thunder pounding in my chest
Hey yeah, can’t see you as nothing but mine
And girl tonight, let’s go crazy one more time

I’m a collector. Plain and simple. I’m not good at it at all! But, I will collect anything I can. Good news is… I’m not a hoarder because I lose everything! I will try my hardest to hold on to it!!! Oh, Jesus!!! I will. I tell you what! But, I can’t hold onto anything.

If you have read my posts in the past, you have probably heard of Danger Boy! Yep, he’s been around since the beginning. I have kicked him to the curb many-a-time. But, he’s part of my collection… as is a real honest to goodness “eX”. It seems I mainly collect boys… men, now that I’m a grown woman.

This started years ago. Along with what now has grown into what seems to be an addiction. One might consider it a sex addiction. However, stick around and get to know me a bit and you’d find that it’s a love addiction.


Definitely untreated… definitely out of control… Definitely sucky!!! And, I do NOT mean to make light of it. It SUCKS. And, it’s confusing as hell. Mainly it’s confusing because I don’t want to deal with it. It’s confusing because who becomes addicted to love?

And I wonder, at times, if that’s such a horrible addiction really? And, then I answer myself immediately with a “Yes!”

I know enough about it to say that it’s horrible. Just like any addiction it ruins quality of life… ruins relationships… ruins self.

I avoid dealing with it in every possible way I can. And, I will continue to because that’s what I do well… that and collect things… and lose them of course. Because of my addiction?!?!?!

Sucky life!

I haven’t even bothered to address the Bipolar/Borderline issues that I mix in with the addiction stuff! Makes an exciting little Burrito of Life for me!!!

Yes! Damn it! I do want to go crazy one more time… actually, all of the freaking time! It’s hard to justify it though when you don’t know if you are being bipolar or borderline or if you are dealing with your addiction!

However, since I have not dealt with my addiction… that’s helps. Or not… because obviously that’s a bad thing. Again… I not making light of it. I need to deal with it. I have attended SLA meetings, but I cannot wrap my head around 12 step meetings. I cannot deal with a higher power. It’s personal issue with me. I don’t know how I will do it, but I have to figure it. And, that is as far as I can go talking about it without having a panic attack.

So, I will wander my happy little ass away from the topic – conveniently – so I can collect my boys and keep having my issues?

And so… I will just go crazy one more time!!!

In my dark times….

In my dark times I’ll be going back to the street
Promising everything I do not mean
In my dark times, baby this is all I could be
Don’t think my mother could love me for me
In my dark times, in my dark times

I promise you… that in my dark times, only my mother can love me.

I have entered another dark time.

More new meds.
More crazy spinning in my head.
More pushing people away.

Oh for the love of mental health!

It’s been a long time since I’ve been here to write.

Ya know how it’s gets. How “you – me – I” go to that place and crawl around… in the dark times. And then ya come out for a breath of fresh air and realize … “oh holy shit, it’s October!” Yeah. Me too.. that’s exactly what has happened here with me. Except I’m still in the midst of it all.

I think that’s what happens if you are lucky enough to grow older with a diagnosis… I think you learn to recognize that it’s all happening… and once in a while you are lucky enough to hold on and reach out to reality. Or just let go of the fucked-upness of it all and breath.

I celebrated my 49th birthday this year and my 30th year of diagnosis. 30 years of meds… and doctors not knowing exactly how to treat these ever loving dark times!

Ah, but they do come and they do go! God bless them – the dark times and the doctors, and meds, the crazy head spinning and the pushing more and more people away. Yes they come… and yes they go.

It’s all a funny little circus.

This ain’t the right time for you to fall in love with me
Baby I’m just being honest
And I know my lies could not make you believe
We’re running in circles that’s why