Love. The Battle. The Dagger. The Perseverance.

I was reading one of my other blogs from a few years ago, and couldn’t help but feel sorry for the person I used to be. Love finally made it into my life, and even though it is at a great cost, years ago I would have killed to just have had the opportunity to experience it. There was a post of mine called “The Dagger” in which I glorified what it would have been like to kill myself with a knife – needless to say it was a very dark time in my life.

The Dagger

Posted on February 10, 2015 by unchainedsoul

Plunging in my heart.   I am here again.  Loving so hard and so fast that I want to die. Bipolar.  Pills.  Do I go to my psychiatrist and tell him to give me something else?  Or do I fight through this?  Feel it.  All of it.  I want to be taken.  Off this Earth.  It’s the same old story.  So much pain.  What is this?  Why does it hurt so bad?  Feel it.  Feel all of it.  Let it kill me.  Let it consume me.  Feel it.  Like a dagger.  Like a dagger.

Want to be better.  Don’t want this.  I am envious of people that don’t feel.  Live life through their texting, Facebook, and laughter.  Marriage, children, and careers, and I am left behind.  Can I have all those things?  Where am I in this life?  35 years, 10 years in total darkness.  Sex, alcohol.  Drowning in pills.  Like a dagger.  Time, sneaking up on me.  Like a predator stalking me.  Why does he have teeth?  Why is he biting down upon me?  Take me from this life.  This hell.  Do I find Jesus? Will he be my salvation if I turn to him?  I am too far gone into my hell to find him.  Like a dagger.  Take me, aliens.  Take me up, change my brain.  Show me what I am capable of.  Make me an artist.  Make me something more than myself.  I feel like nothing.  Drowning.  More pills.  Bipolar.  Fuck.  Just take me and kill me.

Pretty deep huh?

Even though I have been feeling down in the dumps lately, my life is so much brighter today. I battle with my bipolar disorder and the highs and lows that come with it, but my medication is on point and my CPAP machine helps me with restful sleep. I do feel tired though, and I chalk it up to just being sick the past week. I am noticing that I am dramatizing my life a lot more than it is or it should be. Not everything is a meltdown, and not everything is a travesty.

Perseverance comes through the strength of the spirit, and I have just been spiritually sick these days. My trust in God has wavered, and I feel like I have been losing my way. I have to be vigilant in my fight against the Devil – he’s telling me that I am going to fail, he’s telling me I am ugly, and he’s telling me I will never see my husband again. My fault is I have been listening to these horrible thoughts in my head. We know we shouldn’t listen to that “voice,” but we do every time.

I am coming home to the realization that I am going to be okay. I may not have a high-powered career like I used to, and make all kinds of money like I did in New York, but maybe being a Peer Support Specialist won’t be a bad alternative. I go to this place called NC Works tomorrow to talk about what options I would have for a career since my mugshot is plastered all over the internet and no employer will ever hire me. There I go again, thinking extreme.

It’s a vicious cycle, isn’t it? How on Earth do we break it?

Faith. Perseverance. Strength. Hope.

Love for myself.

Stay Tuned

What It’s Like Being a Model Citizen to Jails and Institutions

This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I played it straight and arrow for 40 years. Then a man came into my life with promises of adventure, love, and mayhem that was too good to pass up. Sometimes I wonder why I did what I did or why I just went along for the ride.

I’ve looked at some of my other posts from earlier years and seen what a good writer I used to be. The zeal for being creative and original isn’t as appealing as it used to be. I’ve lost my streak and my muse, much like how I lost my soul on the floor of that jail cell last year. Never had I imagined the horrors that I’ve gone through or the pain I put my family through – because it all was, in essence, for Love.

I’ve loved before in my life, but never like this. I watched myself become a drug addict and a convict overnight all because I followed someone down this path. But it was my choice too, I am not going to dodge the responsibility, it’s the least I could do for myself. I feel like a sorry individual who is just scraping by. I am in a homeless shelter now, which feels like the worst of the worst, and I can’t wait to be out of here. I have been here for almost a year, and in jail for almost a year. All these institutions are driving me crazy – I used to be an executive in New York for Christ’s sake – how did it ever get to this.

I am spinning down this crucible, and it feels like it is never-ending. The bottom is bottomless, and the sky is hard to see. My sanity is barely holding on because I think another bipolar meltdown coming on any day now. I have been sick lately too which doesn’t help, but I think it’s mostly me being sick and tired of being sick and tired.

God help me through this. I have had enough of these places, these rules, and these stipulations. I just want to be free.

I just want to be free,

Stay Tuned.

Focused Despite a Pandemic, Bipolar, Addiction, Relationships, and Uncertainty

steps Those are the concrete steps I fell in a freefall backward, in which I could have died by breaking my neck. How I survived that fall with just some stitches on my head and a broken wrist, I shall never know. Of course, we all know the culprit – alcohol, which is ridiculously accessible during these times – even delivered to your door via the Drizzly app. An interesting thing isn’t it – that such a deadly substance is obtained so easily now, and many, many people are drowning their sorrows in it, especially for those of us losing certain unemployment benefits as of this week.

But that’s not the reason for my post today.

I was supposed to get married a week before that fall down those steps, and my parents and my fiance’s parents being what they are, canceled our wedding in some sort of punishment as if we are both teenagers recklessly in love. There is some truth to the reckless love part – we have almost nothing in common, except of course music – which unites us in a way 90’s R&B and rap songs usually do – it brings us back to a time in our life when things were simpler, more comfortable and just made sense.

I have spent a good portion of my life looking for true love. There were times in my life I thought I have felt it, but this man, the one I am going to marry, makes me feel the love so deeply that it moves me to tears even as I type. Our primary common bond is, of course, mental illness, in which certain parts of it come out of both of us, bad and good.

He hears voices and conversations and has delusions I try and cope with and understand, while he deals with my constant yelling and flip-flop moods of this horrible bipolar. We are hardly the perfect match, but the abundance of love that comes from the both of us to each other is undeniable – oh and as a bonus, two people who have incredibly vibrant mental illness issues have, without a doubt, the best sex life on the planet, at least for me it is.

But besides the sex, which is explosive and out of this world, on top of all things, I picked up a drug habit that I share with him now. I explained a little bit about this in my last post, and, ironically, I spent my entire life avoiding hard drugs and now I am a full-blown addict on top of my bipolar disorder. I have kept it quiet, of course, not broadcasting it on social media or even to any of my friends, but I know this drug addiction is killing our relationship. All of our fights, and I do mean all of them, have been around this habit – either fighting about money to get it, or the fact that he sits there and watches hours of porn in front of me as we do it together, (I won’t even go into how many fights there were about that one), it’s just the fact that I don’t want to do the drug anymore.

There is something to be said about incarceration or, in my case, 10 months in a psychiatric hospital. I spent most of 2018 and 2019 in a hospital (this happened twice), and honestly, I believe it cured me of any addiction I have ever had. I had a bad alcohol addiction most of my life – mostly, which I blame my violent, drunk father for (like father like daughter apparently), but I was really cured of it before I met my fiance.

Experimenting with cocaine has been an invigorating experience, and when I got the chance to mix it with both Vicodin and alcohol, suffice to say, I was hooked. That freefall came from a night of coke and alcohol, both of which the Emergency Room found in my blood, but luckily my landlord only knew about the drinking when he called my parents – (oh yeah, the cops were called, and they thought my fiance pushed me down the stairs, and my landlord threatened to kick us out).

After that incident, I haven’t touched an ounce of liquor, but I have been drowning more and more down the cocaine drain. And when we do it together, we’re okay for a while, then the worst comes out in both of us when we want more, and we just don’t have the money for it. I am currently negative $377.00 in my account due to the last binge, with rent due in a week or so. My fiance is working delivering pizzas with my car, which I can’t afford the payments on either, and we plan on getting high tonight, or at least he wants to, and I feel almost forced because I need some sort of pick-me-up.

This vicious cycle goes on and on, with every binge we break each other’s hearts, and I don’t know if it’s the fact that he has nowhere to go and I have nowhere to go that we stay together. We are so co-dependent; and we are both abusive – me calling him a worthless piece of shit and a loser, and telling him that I hate his guts – to him calling me an ugly whore and on and on. I have never been in such a volatile relationship, but we hang on to each other tightly because we know each other’s “crazy” really well. I once told him, “my crazy knows your crazy” because it really does.

I don’t know what will come of this – all I know is we hide this from everyone, employers, parents, friends, family, and landlord – and when we do it, we always want more, it’s never ever enough.

All I know is I’m trapped, and I am screaming on the inside every day. The cocaine brings me high and makes me incredibly focused, something I think rich people get off on; that’s why they are so successful, I mean stockbrokers are cranking in billions a year. But I know it’s my downfall and either my fiance or I am going to get really hurt – I mean I almost died down those steps so what’s next?

Probably death or jail.

Stay tuned

How the Mighty Have Fallen

anguish-d-rogale

I never wanted to date a drug addict – now I am marrying one in less than a month. I didn’t think things could get this bad, but if there is Hell on Earth, this is what it would be like. I’ve wanted 4 things all my life – and I wanted them so badly before I turned 40. I wanted a fantastic job, a brand new car, a lovely apartment, and a man who loved and adored me the way I wanted to be loved. What I realized was, God, gave me all these things before I turned 40, but with a “punishment clause.” God said, Lynn, I am going to provide you with your happiness and everything you dreamed about – but it will cost you your heart, your sanity, and your sobriety.

I am bipolar, and I am an alcoholic. Now, I am a crack and cocaine addict, thanks to my fiance. I tried it with him because I grew tired of fighting with him so much, crying every night, and watching my bank account shrink to almost nothing. After all, he was bullying me for money. So, I tried it. Now I want more. He is out there, driving around in my brand new car with the phone I gave him (that is currently turned off so I can’t call him). He is using me, he doesn’t respect me, and I don’t respect myself. I am drowning so far down that even when he hit me because I refused to give him money, I turned around and picked him up off the ground and gave him his money after someone hit him for hitting me. I never thought in a million years my life could be this bad – this horrible, where my insides burn in pain. We have everything – we have each other, now the drugs are in both our lives and I feel sick all the time.

Dear God, help me. I am not going to make it.

I honestly don’t want to leave him – what I really want to do is die. I don’t want to live no more really, because I have suffered so much in my life with men using me and this bipolar bullshit I just don’t want to do it anymore.

As the tears fall from my face as I type this, I will pray for this simple truth – in the world we live in today with all this disease and activism and death, could Jesus really hear us if we call out to him? Can he really save my wretched soul? I have so much talent and skill, my fiance is so smart and funny, why is it that there has to be so much suffering.

I don’t want to not wake up anymore – I don’t want to face tomorrow anymore. I don’t want to fight anymore. God gave me everything I ever wanted but ripped it all away at the same time. Who would want to live if that happened? If God gave you everything you ever dreamed of, that you prayed for years for through all your pain and misery – if he gave you all that you wished for when you were left for dead at the floor of a psych ward time and time again would you really want to live if he took it all away?

Wherever you are, God, I ask, I pray that you find me now before I take my life.

Stay tuned.

In Crisis – I Can’t Walk Away Because No One Else Ever Wanted Me.

Homeless adult male sitting in subway tunnel, hands on head

My self-esteem is at an all-time low. I have waited and dated miserably for over a decade for a man to come into my life who loves me completely – the only problem is he can’t beat his drug addiction.

I never wanted to date an addict – never – only because I know how hard that road is.  I had left my fiance when I was 19 due to his addiction and selling drugs, and I don’t know, it seemed easier to start over then. Everything seemed easier when I was younger. Now that I’m approaching 40, I have to say that dating had gotten so excruciatingly painful,  I honestly thought I would be spending the rest of my life alone. I don’t want to date, I don’t want to try, I don’t want to do anything anymore.

I really think I am falling into a depression. I am no prize either, I mean with my mental illness and my fat and ugly, pot-hole face and body, who the hell would want me? Am I going to stay in this relationship because I simply think I can’t get anybody else? I am so scared to be alone again that I am risking my overall mental health to be with this person. He can’t stop the drugs, I can’t stop loving him – two sides of this toxic coin that won’t stop spinning on the edge.

I feel like the whole world is rooting against me, I feel that God is punishing me for moving on from that ex-fiance whose heart I broke into a million pieces after he had gotten clean. What if I am not giving my current boyfriend the same chance I should have given that ex-fiance all those years ago? Is this a pattern that seems to have come full circle in my life?

I have been dying for love. My whole, damn life. I have never been loved like this before. Maybe it’s cause he’s an addict and is so desperate for love, that I find his desperation appealing. Maybe I am so damn desperate too, that I would believe anything he says.

I would love to walk away, say fuck it and let him deal with his own issues. But I can’t. I know things could be a whole lot worse because he could be an abuser, cheater or just downright misogynistic, but he’s not. He’s warm, loving, funny, and the man I want to marry, and who wants to marry me. But he can’t beat his addiction and my love isn’t enough. He just got out of rehab and hasn’t given himself a chance to be clean yet – they say it’s all about people, places and things, and I know his environment and the friends he hangs out with contributes to his weak resistance to his addiction.  I want to help him, I want to love him, but I feel so powerless that I can’t do anything for him.

Worst of all, I know everybody reading this will say, “just leave him,” like it’s the easiest thing in the world. It’s easy for ya’ll to judge me when you haven’t been in my shoes. I feel weak, pathetic and unworthy of a good man. I have been waiting my whole life to be loved the way he loves me, but unfortunately, he comes with his drug baggage that has destroyed my inner light inside.

I wish I could die.

This life is just too fucking hard.

Stay tuned.

Nerves, Symptoms, & New Beginnings, Bipolar Doesn’t Have to Conquer You, You Can Conquer it.

me

It’s Sunday, and I still haven’t done my school assignments. Procrastination much? My boyfriend comes out of rehab Tuesday, and I am scared, excited, and nervous about that 3-hour drive upstate to get him. We’ve been through a lot in a short time, his extreme behavior battles with my extreme behavior both negatively and positively – and where most people would scoff and say our relationship is doomed – I am absolutely optimistic and know in my heart without a doubt that he is the man for me.

I’ve been doing well. After that last hospitalization (as traumatic as it was) was what I needed to jumpstart my life again after being dead and dormant for so many long miserable years. I’ve looked back on past blogs, and boy, was I fucked up. I spent nearly two decades drowning in alcohol, men online, dead-end jobs, and overall misery. Bipolar conquered me, the same way it defeats most people today. It’s the depression, it’s the mania, it’s the hopelessness that kills us every time – and when we finally are doing well, something Holy Unbelievable happens to destroy all the progress we’ve made. It’s this kind of destructive cycle that I had been faced with for all those years, and I think I have finally broken through all that horror.

Firstly, the key to my success is the right medication combination. I have admitted to myself that this combination of Respirdone, Lithium, and Seroquel will probably murder my organs by the time I reach 60, but there is really nothing I can do about it. I would rather have a full life in the next 20 years than live in misery and being symptomatic. This look at my ultimate mortality is what propels me even further, and makes me fully aware that because I have been taking these medications for so long, and my soon-to-be-husband is on just as much, we are probably both not going to live long. My goal is to enjoy every damn moment of life right frickin’ now.

I’ve also started working full-time and looking at a side business. I want to live comfortably, and I want to be happy, and I want my marriage with my man to reflect all that happiness in the short time that I have. I realize I may be overreacting and could very well live till 100, but I think the fact that I feel my life is limited, makes me appreciate every moment so much more.

Bipolar doesn’t have to conquer you – you can take that beauty, the thoughts and dreams you have in mania, and write it all down. Make art out it, create what the bipolar gift has given you, and enjoy your self-expression in new and exciting ways. I call it a bipolar gift because that’s precisely what it is – we see things others don’t, we experience realities differently than others, the rush and the excitement that we feel can’t compare to the most potent street drug and that high that people all over the world search for so much, we feel naturally because it is part of who we are.

Conquer the bipolar – go get that job, rip yourself from underneath the covers and sing, dance, or paint away all the pain.

My 40th birthday is coming in six months – I was just 24 when I was first diagnosed, and I lost 16 years in complete stupidness. Not anymore.

Stay tuned.

Approaching 40….WTF??!! Wasn’t I JUST in High School Screwing Around??

Kissing+30s+Goodbye

Yup. It’s EXACTLY how it sounds. I honestly don’t know where 22 years just evaporated into nowhere. However, turning 40 isn’t as scary as it was turning 30. What is it about the Big Three-O that’s got everyone so shaken? Everyone, as in women, in particular.

I think for me, it was the fact that I was leaving my 20s behind, and there was just so much that I wanted to accomplish by the time I was 30 that I didn’t. You know, graduating college, meeting the love of my life, getting married, moving out, and so on and so on. The fact of the matter is due to this bipolar curse that was thrust upon me; instead of looking towards the future to acquiring all those things, I was continually being pushed back and back and back, with constant hospitalizations and traumatizations. Honestly? My 20s were a fuckin’ nightmare, and it lasted well into my 30s. I mean it wasn’t like I was poverty-stricken or anything, I was just in mental anguish all the damn time, and I wanted someone desperately to love me. Desperately, I say again, DESPERATELY.

Love was the only thing I ever wanted, and I would have sold my soul for it, sometimes I think that I had with all the creeps I had been dealing with, and The Devil was having his fun collecting his due. But that’s for another time. The volumes of my hypersexuality can wait till I am ready to talk about them – “bipolar slut ” is putting it mildly.

In this attempt to find love, I was doing basically what everyone is doing now – except without the swiping and the apps. I was on dating websites, filling out questionnaires, trying to make the perfect profile, spending hours perfecting the most flattering selfies to post on them, and trying to make myself stand out among all the other relationship-seekers on these sites. Now, we all know that girls get more messages than guys, but what is in abundance of quantity, is severely lacking in quality – much so as it is today. In my case, though, (and I don’t know if you guys are guilty of this too), I never went past the messaging phase, ie. I sat on my computer all day talking to guys and never meeting them. Ugh, no wonder I was miserable.

Why am I talking about this? Well, the sad, sad reality is, that the 22 years between my high school days, and my present college days, (getting my degree now, woohoo!), is that a whole lot of nothing happened. Okay, the drama with the hospitals, manias, car accidents, hearing Jesus and Aliens, and all that good shit aside, (I promise I will let you guys in on some of that insanity), but after all that had settled down and I was HEAVILY medicated, so I came back down to reality – it became quiet…..too quiet. I basically spent a bulk of those years drinking very heavily and screwing around online talking to thousands of guys, in which half of them were probably in relationships or married.

What kind of life is that?

This last hospitalization in 2019 taught me one thing – this shit has GOT TO STOP. Like seriously, I can’t be like a revolving door in a psych ward, come on already! When I got discharged, my mom came to pick me up, and on the drive home, she told me something that has stood with me and has been my driving force to do all the things I’m doing today.  She said, “you messed up the first 40 years, make the next 40 count.” And that’s EXACTLY what I’m doing. I happen to have met the love of my life in there this time around, (go figure), and he has a whole host of problems that I don’t even know how I am gonna handle all his shit, my shit, money shit, job shit, apartment shit, and dammit, grown-up shit! And how am I gonna handle being someone’s wife???!!! ARGHHHHHH!!!!

40 seems scary as hell now.

But it also seems very promising as well.

Stay tuned.

A New Year, A New Decade, And I am Trying My Hardest to Not Screw Up

20200101_153756

So this is me. I took a bunch of pictures today in an attempt to break out of my shell and put my best foot forward for the new year. The last ten years have been littered with failed relationships, horrible dates, hospitalizations, bipolar hell, oh, and NO SEX – excuse me but how does one go a DECADE without sex and remain sane??!! And, not to sound conceited, but I am one hot piece of ass, so why the drought you ask?

MEN SUCK.

Sorry dudes, but you do. The horror show of online dating is what I have to show for my 30s, which I am SO GLAD I am not bringing into my 40s. Giovanni ended my no sex drought with a fucking bang, literally, and he wholeheartedly wants to marry me without question. X marks the friggin spot, done and done! But back to my men suck comment. Sorry guys, I didn’t mean it. Not all you guys do. I have met a lot of you who are wading that dating pool who are just as frustrated as we are. Did I mention I was in a hot/cold kind of on and off relationship with my best friend during the last decade of no sex and headache? So yeah, I am no saint mary. BUT I want you to know that IF you are going into the new decade with hopes of finding love in the online dating world – the only advice I would give you is DON’T SWIPE.

Stop the swiping.

Stop it.

Just stop it.

Delete the app.

Coffee meets whoever Tinder said to replace this app with.

Delete it.

Stop it.

For the love of God, stop the damn swiping.

I have to admit I avoided the whole phone app dating process altogether.  I don’t know how I managed it, or in what universe I was in, but I left it alone. I did everything through the PC, oh and Reddit, the black hole of the internet.

So I guess in the world of dating is not what I meant by not screwing up in this new decade. I want a career. Like a real-life grown-up one. I am almost 40 and have been wishy-washy about what the hell I want to do with my life for God knows how long. I about to come into a new chapter in my life, I have a man who wants to spend his life with me, (with drug problems, Jesus it’s never easy), and my family is moving way down South ripping my security blanket right from under me. I have to learn to stand on my own two feet, which ironically came so damn easy for me in my early 20s except, HELLO in 2004 when I was just 24 at the height of my Accounting Career I got slapped with a bipolar diagnosis, hospitalized an INSANE amount of times before anyone got my medication right, therefore KILLING any real chance I ever had of becoming successful.

HOLY FAILURE AND DISAPPOINTMENT BATMAN.

It’s amazing, isn’t it? We can never have it all. I bet you out there somewhere, there is a multitude of AMAZING people, singles, DYING to be in a relationship with the job, apartment, pet, and sane mental health who just feel so alone. Here I am with a man who loves me SO unconditionally, completely, is SO handsome, and accepts me for everything, but I have NOTHING. NO money, no career. And then there are all the celebrities, who have friggin EVERYTHING, but can’t get it together at all. How the hell did Whitney Houston’s daughter’s ex-boyfriend just die of a heroin overdose at 30? Look, I am not saying kicking a drug habit is easy, I am fighting it now with Giovanni, and my alcohol addiction was FAR from pretty – but I don’t know why or how we get so sucked into all this shit. No wonder we fail and disappoint ourselves so much – between drugs, alcohol, doctors, medication and everything else that just kills us on the inside, how are we ever supposed to find success and happiness?

Well, ladies and gentlemen, for 2020 and the dawn of a new decade, I am going to try to find it.  Sober with my fiance – his ass better remain sober too.

I am going to DO IT.

AND SO ARE YOU.

Cheers to success in the new decade!!

 

 

 

Keeping it Together – Addiction and How Being in Love and Bipolar Sucks Horribly.

Drugs and Alcohol Addiction

Being away from Giovanni has been more than difficult. He NEEDS to be in rehab because things were falling apart, but what about my mental health? I have been falling apart fast and slow in the days he’s been gone, and with the aching in my chest, I am reconsidering my relationship with him.

Is this the right thing for me?

He has so many pluses in his favor. For one thing, out of all the men in my life, he has loved me the absolute most with such passion and desperate devotion that I have been looking for since I used to dream about Prince Charming when I was a kid.

Except Prince Charming didn’t do crack and cocaine.

FUCK.

The universe brought this man to me – in the worst of places – the psych ward – so I KNEW that he came with an unreasonable amount of baggage. He hid this addiction from me at first, in the fear that I would dump him because, in his eyes, I was the best kind of woman that he had ever been with – of course, I was – I ain’t no crack ho or street trash. I come from a good family, I am educated, and I am definitely employable – BUT I am a bipolar disaster with multiple hospitalizations and can’t hold a damn job for the life of me. So yes, I wasn’t a street ho, but I was still a mess – but to Giovanni, I was Lady Di compared to what he was used to.

In his own way, he was much better than I was used to as well – very attentive, sometimes overbearing, no desire to be online or play video games, has only eyes for me, and is just devoted in a way no man has ever been to me in my whole life. We are both bipolar, (he has some schitzo issues, but Invega shots take care of that), and we both were slammed together in the worst of situations. We are beautiful together, we even stay sober together because we don’t need any of that shit to enhance our relationship – the sex is better, WAY better sober anyway. It’s when I leave him and go home when the problems and the weakness to those street drugs happen because since he was abandoned to a Group Home – all that live there use all the time. He has endured a pattern of failure for a decade, almost as long as I have, and he turns to the drugs the way I used to drown in the bottle. My alcoholism was deep a few years ago- to the point where my mom found me passed out on the floor of the room and thought I overdosed on something – shit was bad.

I kicked my habit by pure willpower – and believe it or not, my parents AND the hospitalizations helped.  I was so tired of being a disappointment to my parents, and when I was in the hospital for months, I was just removed from the daily alcohol, and I just didn’t need it anymore. I am hoping by removing Giovanni from these drugs for a month will snap him out of it, even though his mom thinks he needs three months. Jesus, being away from him for three months, will absolutely KILL me, but if it’s for his sobriety, I will have to give in.

I didn’t want to date an addict. Hell no. But here I am.

It would be so easy to walk away from him if he was just his addiction – but he’s not, he’s so much more – He’s the man I love.

My bipolar madness better give it a rest until January 21st.

Stay Tuned.

Alone on Christmas – Want So Bad to Fall into Depression But I am Going To Do Something Different

Take Care of Yourself

I saw this quote on Facebook today, and it really hit home. I spent most of Christmas Eve crying, sleeping, and feeling sorry for myself. Through the stroke of sheer luck and maybe the will of God, I got to see my guy today when I dropped off cigarettes and money his mom gave me to give to him as he was being transferred from one rehab to another. Last night’s drama really ripped me apart inside – because when he called me and said he signed out of rehab and was walking the streets of Queens with all his bags, begging people to use their cell phones to call me and desperately wanting me to pick him up – I truly, truly wanted to pack a bag and just pick him up and drive into the sunset and never look back in the most romantic way possible.

But life teaches us that our consequences will bite us in the ass, which I have learned the hard way with my almost 40 years on this Earth. He is actually 40 years old, which makes me question his thinking, and when his mom kept calling me and texting me not to go pick him and leave him out there, you could actually hear my heart breaking. What I did was convince him to go back inside and work it out with them – he just desperately wants to leave and be with me, remorseful of all he’s done, and where I once thought our love could conquer anything, it can’t conquer his addiction.

I swore to myself I would never date an addict, especially since I abandoned my fiance when I was 19 to his addiction and moved on – I’m selfish and a hard person, and honestly I used to have a real problem with alcohol, so why would I take that on? You know why I am doing this now? Love didn’t just hit me this time – it straight up slammed me right in my face and knocked me over. I truly believe now that we don’t choose the ones we fall in love with – if we are looking, if our souls are calling out to the universe for the one who will complete us and ease the aching in our heart and when we get that true love, life shows us that holding on to that movie love is far from easy. I know I have movie love, only because we both are holding to each other so damn tightly – with a desperation that critics would judge us for – but dammit I fucking love this man and I am going to stand by him.

I’ve come full circle over the past 20 years, and I know that it won’t be easy. I might hate him, I might curse him, he may leave me crying on the floor to go get high – but I am in it for the long haul. Call it blind faith – call it being completely stupid – but this Christmas Eve, I am taking care of me – and while he’s been there and I’ve been waiting by the phone, instead of falling headfirst into a depression in full bipolar form – I’ve decided to write about it, stay active on a support forum, reach out to friends I haven’t spoken to in a while and keeping busy through Christmas. I may be alone without him and missing him terribly, but I did get to kiss him one last time for the next 30 days, and I am hoping he gets the help he needs.

Merry Christmas to you all, and if you have someone special in your life this year, please kiss them and hug them for me tightly – I wish so bad to be with my baby tonight and I am totally jealous.

Stay tuned.