Suck my dick

Dear bitchy mom,
You messaged me and then blocked me before I could reply. I’m not responsible for what your child looks at or does on social media that is actually your job. I, however will not “tone it down” because there are children on Instagram. My child is on Instagram too her account is attached to mine so I can see EVERYTHING she does. You are one of those people who want to blame everyone in society for the bad things people do instead of saying you fucked up. It’s okay in reality we are all shitty parents and we will screw up one way or another, but do not blame other people. I’ve fucked my child up with some of the stuff I’ve done but I will tell you it’s my fault. You need to get off your fucking high horse and pay attention to your child instead of messaging people like me and asking me to “tone it down.” On that same note I don’t know if you think mental illness is a Disney movie with cupcakes rainbow and a happy ending because news flash it isn’t. It is like a bad 80’s horror movie with teenagers screwing in the woods and getting murdered by some weirdo (sorry to spoil the ending). Society feels the need to censor us because we make the world uncomfortable well we are uncomfortable dammit and if we have to here about your last dr visit to get the flu shot Barbara then you can suck it up and listen to us. So to answer your question, No I will not “tone it down” or “censor myself” stop bitching about everyone else and take care of your own….. oh and btw SUCK MY DICK! Thanks! Have a blessed day.
🖤 #mentalhealth #bipolar #bipolaroutcasts #depressed #depression #manic #mentalhealthawareness #schizophrenia #moodswings #mentalhealthblogger #mentalhealthblogging #anxiety #semicolon #semicolonproject #smallvictories #hypomanic #rapidcycle #gettingoutbed #gettingoutbedvictory #myillnesswontwin #losethebattlewinthewar #fuckbipolar #blogger #blogging #suicide #suicideawareness #psychosis

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I shall die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

I’m trying to eat lunch. I really am even though my body disagrees and it feels like I’m forcing it down. I have salmon for lunch and I love salmon but every bite I take makes me feel like I’m going to vomit. I am trying to force the rest of me to believe that I need to eat. It is hard to force myself and maybe I shouldn’t but I know I will feel sick later if I don’t….I mean I will feel sick no matter what but it’s worse when I don’t eat. I want to crawl into bed and go back to sleep and maybe I will sleep for a little while without the dreams coming back. The dreams are almost unbearable and I don’t want to call my doctor because I’m scared of the inpatient conversation. My husband says I sleep like a rock, but it feels like I sleep in 45 minute intervals waking up constantly confused and upset. My moods wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the dreams. I have to call him I know I do. I tried the increase of Seroquel like he told me to do but it isn’t helping. I just want to stop dreaming. It only manifests to my anxiety and makes my anxiety worse and then I don’t sleep. My dreams aren’t useful and problem solving just a nuisance.

I called my doctor about my dreams and they are supposed to call me back but they didn’t. I appreciate my husband for making supper but I can’t eat still. I’m just not up to it. I am scared to go to bed tonight I’m scared of what I am going to see. I’ll try to keep up on my issues as they unfold and what works and doesn’t work. It reminds me of a prayer I was taught as a child.

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I shall die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

It is kind of cryptic but right now feels true.

🖤 Day 16 🖤 My dream job

If you haven’t kept up with anything to this point, my dream job is to be a writer. I wrote a story when I was 4 years old about why people shouldn’t do drugs. (I probably need to go back and read that again.) I wrote a lot of poetry over the years and long winded stories about some dramatic incident I made up in my head or something I was going through I needed to work on. There was always something to keep my interest. When I was 13 my mom bought a Brothers computer (Yeah how many people remember those.) It had no internet because there was none a few applications everything was in black and white, Tetris and a word processor. I had a stack of floppy disk with different color labels and secret word combinations so my mom wouldn’t know what was on them. I also password protected all of them and could still not tell you what the password was. This is where my dream of writing started. I would write a ton of different stories that I never finished, but I had a desk and computer in my room so officially I was a writer. I always wanted one of those lamps with the green glass on top of it like they had in movies for true professionals. I also had a three ring binder full of poems and stories along with an overflowing amount of notebooks.

When I was 13 or 14 I went to summer camp and brought my old worn out maroon five star binder full of cringeworthy teenage issue poems and one night two girls in my bunk got up and started reading them out loud as a joke. I cried. I took my work so seriously and that ripped my heart out. After that I became completely hidden in my work. I never let people read what I was writing for fear of that happening again. (I tell my daughter that girls are horrible people and it doesn’t get much better as they get older.)

So until now I’ve never really shared my writing. I am happy that I found a following and either you are enjoying it or finding amusement in my bad grammar and my odd content. When I was younger I always dreamed of being in Talk Shows going over the complex issues detailed in my book and I will but you will be the first with a signed copy.

🖤

Take your pills and close your legs. My book is in progress

My book: It is my wonderful escape from reality. It is a 6 year project that I am hoping to finish by next year. I know I gave you a brief view of the beginning but I wanted to tell you a little more about the main character. She is a different version of me. I can solve most of my problems through her.

Lauren, is in her late 20’s, she has big blue eyes, but not just blue they are cornflower on the outer rims and as you look closer you can see it fade it into an aquamarine and at is center is and starburst of greenish blue, they are soft and welcoming she is wide eyed with charcoal eyelashes that are long and naturally curled, her hair a deep auburn with strains of brown in between, her face heart shaped, but even through her beautiful features you could see the troubles of her life across her face. The creases in her forehead, the crow’s feet burrowing around her eyes. It seems as if the lines showed her battles of her life. Her olive skin flows beautifully with her hour glass figure…but the most amazing thing about her is her smile perhaps ‘smile’ isn’t the word for it — her pouty lips revealed a small overbite of teeth, the wrinkles and creases in her face almost disappearing as it widens. Her smile was that determination and fight in her to overcome her obstacles it was the hope she clung to when everything fell apart.

Her best friend who plays a large role

Natalie, is in her late 20’s, she has long straight jet black hair, her olive skin highlights are beautiful brown eyes. They are mocha around the ages and fade into a beautiful caramel in the center. She has long beautiful thick lashes her face is oval shaped and she is tiny and petite. The hardships of her life don’t show as much as Lauren. She spends all of her time worried about Lauren. She helps her fight the battle that hopefully she will someday win.

Here is an excerpt from the beginning:

My eyes opened, closed, opened again; the words echoed in my mind, the tattered remnants of dream flitting about my thoughts, searching for something to cling to, some corner of my heart to dig its tendrils into. I stretched, my arms and legs moving in opposite directions, but the now-familiar emptiness crushed any chance of a smile.

“Not today.” I shook my head, then swung my legs out from under the blankets. I sat there a moment, hunched over, not looking up, gathering my strength. “It’s just another Monday. I can do this.” Extending my arm, I picked up my phone from the nightstand. “Fuck. It’s only 6:00 am.”

My frustration escaped through my nose in a sigh.

“I might as well get up, not like I was going back to sleep anyway,” I muttered, planting my feet on the ground, scrolling through my phone, and turning on some music. I hit shuffle and threw it back down on the bed, heading to the bathroom.. Just as I stepped in the shower, “On Bended Knee” came on my playlist in the other room.

Goddamn it.

As the first few drops of water hit my skin, accompanied by those well-worn notes, I drifted back to Jordan: our five-month torrid love affair, the end of my sobriety, my still broken heart. I tried to fight the tears as the second verse began.

He sang this song to me with a dozen Gerber daisies and promised he would never do it again, and I believed him. Then I caught him and his ex-together. It all came back so easily, clear as if it had happened yesterday. The warm droplets formed steam as I stood there without moving, all the memories flooding my head. My skin burned from the mellow droplets morphing into sharp blades, piercing my heart. All at once, the pain became unbearably real and I quickly turned the shower off.

I stepped out, grabbing my robe and turning to face the mirror. “Lauren, you can do this. It hurts like hell right now, but you can do this.” My will held for several seconds, but the memories proved to be too much, and I crumbled, digging behind a drawer in the bathroom and dispensing a small baggy of pills.

I pulled out three into my hand, “just to calm my nerves” I told myself, tossing them in my mouth. The bitter taste coated my tongue as I swallowed, making me shake my head and run it between my lips.

I wrapped my hair in a towel, composed myself in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed to the kitchen. Flicking the lights on, I shuffled my feet toward the fridge, sticking my tongue out at the cups and plates left piled in the sink.

Nat must have had a good time last night. Then I let myself smile. Good for her.

I reached for the refrigerator door and pause for a moment when I saw the NA schedule posted. Natalie had circled the next meeting, where I was supposed to get my one year chip. Shame flushed my cheeks and made me look away from the calendar.

It would break her heart if she knew I had started using again.

My mind turned away from that shame, turning it into anger. It’s not as bad as last time, and it’s no one’s fucking business. I can take care of myself. I snatched a RedBull out of the refrigerator door and situated myself on the uncomfortable wooden chair at our dining room table; as I brought the can to my lips, I heard a door open from down the hall, then watched as a  tall, naked, athletic man came strolling in the kitchen. He leaned down and began rummaging through the refrigerator.

How many pills did I take? 

“Excuse me.” I took another sip, trying to hide my grin. “Who are you? Why are you in my kitchen, and where are your clothes?”

“Umm…I….” He stuttered, trying his best to cover himself while holding on to the two waters in his hands, moving them one after the other, searching for the position that would keep all of his unmentionables hidden.

He didn’t find it.

Shaking my head, I decided to dig in a little further. “Do you know how to talk?”

He managed to meet my eyes, though I could see the red blush in his cheeks. “I’m Benjamin, but my friends call me Ben. I’m here…visiting…Natalie.”

“I thought as much.” Another sip, and I raised my eyebrows. “Do you often visit people naked?”

“No…”

A sleepy voice came around the corner. “Did you find…” Natalie followed after her words, her eyes widening; an oversized Nirvana t-shirt covered her petite frame. Her long black hair draped down her back, the part around her face forming a sleep-halo.

“Morning, Nat.” I began to laugh as I took the last sip to finish off my RedBull.

“Morning. Lauren, have you met…” She paused for a minute, her eyes wide, dancing between me and her lover.

I decided to have mercy.

“Yes, I met Ben. Not bad, Nat; I’d give him…” My gaze moved to the still-naked man frozen in our kitchen. “A seven-and-a-half, maybe an eight if I’m feeling generous.” My smile dropped away as I leaned forward. “I hope you’re good enough for her, Ben. I have high…” And I glanced at Natalie again. “…some might say unrealistic, expectations for the men that she dates. Don’t disappoint me.”

Ben’s mouth did an impressive imitation of a goldfish, as he fumbled for something to say. Natalie, however, rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip.

“Okay, badass. Stop harassing him.” She strode over to Ben, draping herself over him and planting a soft kiss on his lips. “She’s just kidding. Probably.” Throwing a glance over her shoulder at me and grinning, she continued. “Lauren just tends to be a tad over-protective.”

“It’s a mutual feeling between us, I think.” I returned her grin. “All right, you two. I’m going to get ready for work. It was nice to meet you.” I nodded my head before slowly making my way out. As I crossed the doorway, I turned again and saw them in the midst of a passionate kiss, and a twinge of agony overtook me.

I missed it.

I missed the way Jordan held me, the way he said my name, the way he kissed me. The loneliness came crushing in again, pressing down so hard I could barely breathe Turning back around, I headed to my bedroom, my heart shattering a little with each step. I laid on my bed, unable to catch my breath, a stabbing sensation surging through my chest as the rest of my body started to shake uncontrollably.

I forced my eyes close when I heard, “Shit, Lauren are you okay?”

It was Natalie. I couldn’t answer her; it felt as if my tongue had been ripped out.

“Shh…just breathe, slow deep breaths…” She laid my head in her lap, stroking my forehead.

“Is she okay? Do I need to call someone?” Ben asked in the doorway.

“No, she’ll be fine. Just hand me that bag on the nightstand and head back to my room. I’ll be there in a few.” Ben tossed the bag to Natalie, who dispensed two small blue pills and placed them in my mouth. The taste made me gag, and I tried to spit them out, but she shoved her hand over my lips to keep them in. “We aren’t doing this, Lauren. You need to take your medicine, so don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I moved my tongue quickly against her hand, but other than making her crack a smile, it had no effect. “Lick my hand all you want, I’m not moving it until you swallow your pills.” My jaw began to ache and my tongue tire, so I finally gave in. The pills felt like daggers scraping down my throat…but that faded quickly as a sudden jolt of euphoria washed over me.

“My other pills are kicking in,” I mumbled.

I heard a sharp hiss of breath. “Other pills…What pills…What did you take?” Natalie moved her face closer to mine.

“I meant these pills; these pills will kick in soon.” I lied, but I could tell she wasn’t falling for it. Shame filled my face, and I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. “Fine. I took extra anxiety pills this morning. I woke up in a panic, and…”

I glanced up at her; she still wasn’t buying it, but she gave me a smile. “That’s all you took, you promise?”

“I promise.” The lie sat heavy in my heart. “That’s all.” I tried to sit up, but dizziness flooded my brain.

Natalie put a hand on my knee, turning her head at an angle to me. “I saw the look in your eye after Ben kissed me. I know things have been rough since Bryan.”

“Bryan?” I’ve been so wrapped up in Jordan I didn’t even think about Bryan. “That asshole ran out on me…what?  Two years ago? Why would I think of him?”

I massaged my temples trying to stave off the imminent headache.

Natalie clicked her tongue. “What are you thinking? Your meeting is on Wednesday, you get your one-year chip. You’re winning, Lauren. Please don’t ruin it for yourself.” She took a deep breath, then turned her eyes back to me, trying on a smile. “Just…just talk to me, okay? Whatever is going on, we can fix it. Just don’t shut down on me.” Reaching out, Nat took hold of both my hands; I had to resist the urge to pull my fingers away from hers. “You’ve come too far to give up now. I’m proud of you, Lauren, because you’ve fought your way out of everything that’s happened.” Then she pulled me in, embracing me fully. “I know it’s been tough, but that last visit to rehab and taking your meds has made a difference.”

As she wrapped her arms around me, a cloud of guilt and shame floated around me. If only she knew the truth. “Thanks, Nat. Really. You need to go so I can get ready for work.” She looked genuinely hurt, but got up off the bed and took a step toward the door. Almost despite myself, I whispered, “Remember I love you, okay?”

She jerked back quickly. “Alright, now I’m not leaving.” She came back over and sat down again, her eyes wide with concern, her voice uncertain. “You need to tell me what is going on with you. You were extremely happy for a while, and I know you met someone. Even though you denied it, I could tell…and I’m assuming by this recent decline that it didn’t end well.” Nat’s fingers came up and brushed my cheek. “Is that right?”

“Just a nobody. It was stupid. Doesn’t matter now.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “So, Ben…” I ask trying to change the subject.

“Oh, no. Ben.” Natalie exhaled through her nose, glancing back toward the door. “I told him I would be right back.” Her eyes danced back and forth, assessing, considering. “Just lie down; you need to rest.” Her face firmed as she seemed to decide something. “I’ll call Gail and tell her that you will be coming in a little later. We can ride together, okay? And finish this conversation,” she added, scurrying out of the room.

“Do I have a choice?”

Mood swing whirlwind: Fake it until you make it.

Fake it until you make it with your moods right? If you talk to me you could never tell how miserable I actually am and I don’t know if that is a perk or not. I guess it just depends on what day it is. When people tell you. “Oh my gosh you are bipolar I can’t tell.” It is annoying because you can’t look at someone and tell if they are bipolar and we don’t wear a big sign that says, “Hey I’m bipolar judge me.” It’s easier to joke or talk to someone else about their problems then try to get into the complex version that is mine. I had an anxiety attack around 1:00 pm. I had to message someone that I was locked in a handicap bathroom stall but I’m okay so don’t call 911. I hate when they call 911 every time I have a panic/anxiety attack. I’m learning to do it without meds but it is frustrating and it makes me more anxious so basically everything just keeps getting worse. It took me a little more than an hour to calm down enough to leave the bathroom. I’m still coming down from it. When you take a pill it ends fairly quickly but not without meds. I took a Benadryl (it doesn’t help) but I braved a face for the rest of the afternoon and fell apart when I got in my car. When I told someone that was with me what happened they didn’t know what to say, no one ever knows what to say besides you’ve been in a good mood all day. I don’t know how to explain it to people. So I just fake it until I make it or completely fall apart. We’ll see which one comes first.