Friday, October 15, 2010

Rough Day in the land of the Bipolar Express

I am apparently not doing well. Not doing what I should be doing, and not doing it fast enough. I have broken parts of our relationship, me solely. I don't finish anything. I don't accomplish anything, other than being dramatic. I don't listen to others, without interjecting my own foibles, thus making it seem like some sort of contest of woes.

I know that I am not the bubbly girl that I used to be. No one knows this better then me. I would love to be that happy go lucky, not afraid to fail girl that I used to be. But, I am not. I have turned into a mother to a mentally ill child, and wife to a mentally ill man. Those virtues I once possessed, have gone by the wayside in an effort to be able to deal/cope with the day to day life I know live. This is not to say it is a bad life. It's not. In fact most days are good, maybe tinged with a bit angst, but good none the less. The bad days on the other hand, are horrible. They taint everything, every part of this house, this family. The dogs even know when it's a bad day--they slink away, hide away.

One can have a stiff upper lip for so long, before it crumbles into a quivering mass of gelatinous goo. I am the goo. Coo Koo Ka Choo.

Things are not black and white and easy to explain. The shades of grey are many and deep. And when you have no one you can tell this to, without it sound like a complete whine fest, minus the cheese, it becomes difficult to function.
I am sinking deeper in my own anxiety and depression and I feel as though I have no one on which I can depend.

Last night briefly ever so briefly I considered suicide. Again. I wanted to rip my arms open and feel the pain, watch the blood run, and close my eyes. But I am too chicken shit for even that.
I called my shrink today. I know those thoughts are my internalization of the events last night, and not normal. Today my chest hurts. The minute my eyes opened, and they opened because Rob awoke me with the laundry list of faults, my heart began to hurt. And not in the emotional way, although I am sure it is psychosomatic. Also, I want to hurl.

All this to say that the lyrics to this particular song, are resonating deeply with me right now.

"Killing Me"

I don't mind the abuse
It fills in time
When I'm not much use
But it's killing me, killing me slowly

They all say
I'm too restless
But words cut deep
When you're defenceless
And they're killing me, but killing me slowly

There was a time when we were fine
And I could tolerate you
I do believe that you should leave
'cos I've grown to hate you
Should I be weak and turn my cheek
'cos I'm scared to fall
But I just don't know you
And you don't know me at all

I've been told that love's a celebration
But I've lost faith through frustration
And it's killing me, but killing me slowly

You paint my picture black
The joke's on me
And I don't wanna laugh
Remember the good times
Won't you bring them back someday, somehow

I don't mind feeling blue
If I could smile just like you do
And it's killing me, killing me slowly

I can't go on alone
Pretending nothing's wrong
Maybe I just want to belong
Somewhere, somehow, somehow

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