He was supposed to come over and do our usual morning thing and snuggle before he had to go home to his other life. Instead he bails and breaks up with me via text saying all the things he wants which is for this thing we had swept under the rug and things be normal between us in a platonic manner.

I felt nothing when I read it. Even now days later as I read it, I can’t muster up any feelings. The pain that man has caused me has gotten me to a place where I am cold and numb. I feel hollowed out and empty. I am scared of what happens when I come out of the dark depths of this depression. I worry about what happens when the mania wants to come out and play and how hard and fast it’s gonna hit. I worry about losing control. I worry about what I will do.

This is not me. I am usually self aware and have control. Right now… I am not so sure.

No one has been able to accomplish what he did. No one has broken me to the degree he did. Now I am left on the floor and shattered.

Shattered is the only accurate word to describe how I feel. Some pieces on the floor, some levitating around me. I don’t feel intact. I feel myself scattered around me. I have a few moments when I feel like some of the pieces come together, but the glue doesn’t exist. They just kind of float into close proximity to one another then drift away at random times.

My strength is gone. A lot of times, it’s all about the muscle memory I have managed to retain that gets me through the day. When I feel fine… I am just not. I can hold it together for a short period, then then back to a zillion pieces I go. My anxiety has a hard grip on me. The depression is overwhelming. The mania is dormant… for now; it’s sitting there… waiting… waiting for the perfect opportunity to swoop in and wreck havoc.

This is what my life looks like right now… yesterday I needed to go to the store. Simple thing? Right? Yea.. so very wrong. I needed bacon and bread so I could make breakfast. It took me over 3 hours to muster the energy and motivation to even leave the house. I did okay, then I saw the sweet potatoes. Those were his thing. He eats them raw. One of his many charming weirdo quirks.

Anyways… I was able to keep it together to finish getting my produce. Then as I am walking to check out, I started to cry. I didn’t so much panic this time. I was just really overwhelmed with the fact that I was there at the store by myself and the realization he would never be joining me again. I checked out— teary-eyed. As soon as I got outside, I crumbled. I sat in my car and sobbed for a little while. I pulled it together and was able to drive myself home. When I got home, I froze. I couldn’t move. I stayed frozen in my car for over an hour. I finally came in and made my children put away the groceries as I retreated to my safe space.

This is what it’s been like. I do okay.. then I am not ok. I am shattered and broken. I am depleted of all coping skills. I hide in my room. It’s been weeks now. I stopped eating for awhile. I lost 10 pounds total. I am literally just wasting away… my mind and body. My emotions have deadened and dulled.

It went from “I can’t wait to spend forever with you” to the one thing he swore up and down he never would do… he wanted to make it work with his wife all because she told him she didn’t care he was in love with me! I should have never trusted him, but I did.

Now… now I am left shattered.

Nikki

I’ve always hated Barry’s life rules. I find them stupid. I never really understood them. He has this life rule book he lives by. Rules he will not break. Rules that hold him back. So many damn rules!

So I should probably explain who Barry is. We met when I was in Jr high. He was the older brother to my best friend’s “boyfriend” who was around all the time. So when it was time for him to come home, Barry was sent out to fetch him. We grew up, and I never saw Barry again… until he quite literally showed up at my door step 500 miles away from home.

Say what?!? One of my friends decided to go on a random road trip and come visit. She calls me half way on her adventure to inform me she wasn’t coming solo and had her friend Barry with her. Okay. Great. Not like I can say no at this point. So they show up at my door, and I took one look at him and said “I know you!” And his response was “I know you too!” And her response “How in the hell do you two know each other?!?”

That was the start of our adult friendship. He still lives in our hometown. I found solace in him when I was doing a lot of back and forth between where I am now and home dealing with family stuff. We grew closer and attempted to date at one point.

Attempted being the key word. His stupid life book rules got in the way. Oh how much I hated those damn rules. He couldn’t commit to this because of that. He wouldn’t have sex with me because of his stupid life rules. He was on some grand life mission. He was following a path set forth by him by the higher powers. Whatever. I was convinced he had joined a cult that sucked all the life happiness and joy from others. I also felt like I wasn’t good enough. Alas, we broke up after maybe a month.

Mind you in my feeble attempt to make him hurt like I was, I did throw in his face that the universe did drop him at my doorstep for a reason. At the time, I was convinced it was supposed to be some great love story. His rule book said otherwise. The timing was wrong; he had missions to fulfill and I refused to put my life on hold indefinitely for him. Plus we lived across the country from one another. He did fess up to loving me at one point which I do believe. But as I have always said… love in itself only gets you so far. There is always more that must go with it. My unwillingness to even consider waiting also showed that the kind of love I needed to have for him didn’t exist within me.

I did end up forgiving him a few months later for losing the most awesome girl ever and upsetting me. I missed the friendship, however, the romantic ship has sailed. I do love him, as a friend and nothing more. So friends we are and his stupid rules continue to dictate his life.

Now that I am not in my very typical post break up whiney, I am not good enough, woe is me, I am so butt hurt, why does the universe hate me so much mode, I can appreciate him more. I also can appreciate his life rule book more. Let’s be clear though, I still think they are stupid.

Here comes the life lessons of what that his stupid rule book has taught me.

1. We all have a purpose. Once we know that purpose, it’s our duty to fulfill the life purpose. I am all too well aware of mine. I know I am a catalyst for change. I am also a catalyst for unveiling life’s truths. I am aware I am one of those people that once I enter your life, I leave a mark. I am an unforgettable person. I also know that when I am not being true to me and all that comes with it, my life purpose isn’t fulfilled. We all have our parts to play even when it causes conflict. This life purpose is also why headstrong women make it their mission to take me out.

2. So to convey this one, I need to explain a few of my beliefs. I do believe in reincarnation. I also believe we can be given the choice of what we come back as depending on what that life’s particular purpose is. I look at it once we’ve reached “old soul” status, our human forms are a vessels to help with the greater purpose of the universe/ divine. With that said, once we accept whatever mission we are being sent on as a human, there is a recipe that goes with it. We are supposed to follow a certain path that gives the lessons needed to accomplish our purpose because we have extremely limited concrete knowledge from former lives, we are also given certain life circumstances to help build the foundation needed, and we are given certain personality traits that are to be used. Barry apparently needed a hard and fast rule book. I just kind of wing it so my rule book got left behind.

3. Barry was placed on my doorstep not for a romantic partner, but to help guide and direct me since I left my rule book in the other world. In a way, he is kind of a mentor to help tame this wild, stubborn spirit of mine. Someone has to do it, apparently he drew the short straw.

4. Love comes in many different forms. The kind of love needed to sustain the storms that lead to rainbows that occur with relationships is limited, but it’s supposed to be. You can’t have that kind of love with everyone. It’s supposed to be the precious and rare find so that when you find it, you know it’s different. You hold on to it and are willing to weather whatever comes your way. We are taught that a marriage certificate creates that kind of love. This is just not true. Those things are just paper. What I am talking about can’t exist on paper.

5. I was never really angry at Barry for him choosing his stupid rules over me. I was mad at the universe for not giving me what my heart wants. My heart wanted it’s other half. We had a cool story so I let myself get swept up and clouded my rationality. This is also why I forgave him. It just wasn’t meant to be romantically and he’s one of my most cherished friends.

I am sure there are more, but that’s all I got for now. So maybe Barry’s rule book isn’t so stupid at all. But I will never confess that!

Nikki

I stopped writing because it became a chore. Life is a disaster. The world is a disaster. My life battles rage on. Pandemic doesn’t seem to ever end. Days are dark. My extroverted being can’t handle all the social distancing. I miss seeing faces. I miss human contact. I miss the world when we weren’t afraid of giving each other the plague. The bipolar seems to be manifesting harder and heavier than before.

For a quick recap during my refusal to write phase, Liv is still a narcissist whiney bitch. I tried to forgive her but she keeps showing her true colors. She needed to exit stage left, keep going, and never come back. Her time is over.

Then there was Duke… Duke was a crush I had in high school and had actually honored girl code with. He found me randomly. We talked for 4 months while he was in rehab. I got attached. Then when it came time for me to come visit, he freaked out and that was that. Come to find out he was using me for an ego boost and had a woman already. She probably is the best thing for him, however it still doesn’t take away the fact he led me on. Loser.

Then of course there was the guy who couldn’t respect me if his life depended on it. Pathological liar. Extreme narcissist. Everything was about him and his needs. Only thing he was good for was sex and even then he wanted and tried to take more than I was willing to give. One day he will get his karma.

After all the train wreck relationship attempts, I really was content on just not being with anyone. Sex wasn’t even worth it anymore. I was tired of feeling alone and being taken advantage of. I was starting to blossom on my own as a single gal… then I met a strange man just trying to eat a sandwich.

I had zero intentions of falling for said man. He was quite unhappily married, and I just wasn’t willing to go there…. then he tried to kiss me in the elevator. Well… shit… that wasn’t supposed to happen! Fast forward; now I am in the midst of a rollercoaster ride and the bipolar is the one in the conductors seat.

His fatal flaw is that he needs to get unmarried- sooner rather than later with or without me in the picture. But this isn’t about him… it’s about me. Is it the bipolar or the damsel in me?

I’ve spent close to a week now bound to my bed. I haven’t really eaten. I’ve lost 7 pounds. I do more dosing in and out than actual sleep. Though today I finally had real sleep. I did have one day in there where I was alive for one night to celebrate a night with him and then after that… he went home and I fell right back into the darkness.

The darker I go, the more I tend to get stuck in my own head. I will stay there for days sometimes weeks on end and drive myself, along with anyone who comes in contact with me utterly mad. I just stay there trapped, trying to control everything; trying to know every possible outcome and how to manipulate every outcome to what needs to be done. I have intense visions. I have insane theories. I was seriously starting to lose touch with reality around day 4-5. The fact I can’t take my anxiety meds is not helping matters either. Getting real sleep helped break the cycle somewhat. Sleep really is a key component to mastering this illness.

As he falls apart trying to figure himself out, he needs space without me in his head trying to pull down his boxes and make him open them nor does he need me in his face shoving a mirror in it and telling him what to do all the time. As for me, I was and still kind of am crumbling. I am not being a very good support person and the rock I am supposed to be right now is capsizing on itself which makes me feel that much worse. So much madness happening inside this head of mine!

There is hope! Today I had a much needed epiphany! I am having a lot of flashbacks of my own childhood trauma that are manifesting in less than ideal ways. My overly protective side is desperate to save him and his child from the torments of my life traumas. When I can’t get people be proactive in preventing what happened to me, I feel like I failed and then I fall apart. No one should ever have to go through the things I did. These particular traumas are actually the root of my issues that cascaded into what has become know as my disastrous life!

I haven’t let anyone in since Liv, at least not enough to see all aspects of me. I also haven’t trusted anyone enough to not leave when I showed them who I really am. He broke through my walls and got to see every part of me, the good, bad, ugly and just plain weird. He still hasn’t run away. I am actually really impressed because I can be quite the handful plus some and am a closeted playful weirdo.

He had a moment which consisted of questionable decisions and shutting out yours truly. Unfortunately when he had this, I was already in high anxiety mode. I was already losing it from being shut out and my intuition knew what was happening– something I couldn’t stop. There was a few moments when I wasn’t sure if I had lost him or not. This led to a very scared and shut down me. It almost resulted in me banging on his door at 2 am. I decided that probably wasn’t the best idea considering all the lights were on at his house which meant he wasn’t the only one awake… so that idea is on the back burner for now.

Now enter my perceived desire to control everything. It’s not so much I want to control it all, I just wish he would process and accept things as quick as I do; at least at a much accelerated rate than what he currently is. Maybe be a little more impulsive in his actions. Stop thinking so much. Just do it and move forward. My ability to process and function at a much higher speed and pace than the average human is failing me at this moment. Sounds arrogant, but its actually a legit thing. My therapist clued me into it a few years ago. My brain works at a faster pace than most people. It’s exhausting for those around me sometimes and frustrating for me because I want people to just be quicker. It’s caused a lot of issues in my already challenging life. This phenomenon differs from impulsiveness because I actually weigh out all the consequences before I make a decision vs just jumping without looking.

Anyways, I won’t lie… I want to get in his head and pull down the boxes he refuses to open, sit with him, and go through them. I want to hold his hand and be the shoulder he cries on. I also want him to see my perspective. I want him to see what I do and expand his view point to not just his own. I need him to take a step outside his own realm and look at things from a different angle. Of course I can’t force him… I can just be up in his face and tell him the 809 ways/ reasons of what he should be paying attention to and doing vs what he is. It’s exhausting for the both of us. It’s like this— here’s your sword and armor, put it on, ride into battle, slay the jabberwocky– done. Come home and snuggle with me as I shower you with love and affection and maybe a real shower with soap and water too. But well he’s a little stubborn, and I am not the most patient coupled with the fact I think and feel way more than him and the average human. Plus men are inherently slower at getting shit done than women.

So now here we are slowing down our relationship a bit for both our sanity sake. Me being in extreme rapid cycling mode and him just trying to catch up when I am running laps around him. I wasn’t lying about the 809 things. I don’t want to slow down us. I want to wake up every morning with him and continue to grow and be together all the time, but I know for the sake of continuing to build our relationship it must be this way as much as it sucks.

So what am I so afraid of? I know him and I are solid in our love for one another. We both know we complete the other. We flip flop on who’s more sure, but I know with every fiber of my being… what we have is real. I also know even if we do break up, it won’t be for long. I know my end game is him and his is with me.

Knowing this I shouldn’t be imploding as I have been. So what gives? It’s the fact that I am terrified of the idea that I gave my heart away fully, and I learned to truly trust someone. The bigger issue is that I see entirely too many similarities in what my own family life was like. Those similarities are such a trigger point for me. I can’t handle seeing it happen to someone else, knowing that no matter what he does… the outcome is the same. I struggle watching what he lets himself become and how much he sacrifices for the sake of being a protector. There are other ways! It is by far one of the most painful things to have to watch. I watched my dad do a lot of that before my parents finally divorced.

I remember as a child, I always felt relief when I knew I was going to my dads. My mom and I do not get along. The woman hated my existence and made sure I knew it too. She hated my father too. I got the brunt of all that anger. I finally told her when I was 15, I was done with her shit and moved out of her house. My dad tried to protect me from her hate and resentment but whether they were married or not… it didn’t matter. She still behaved as she was going to. He wasn’t all the good at protecting me when they were together, I still knew what was going on. At least when they were divorced, I could escape her and didn’t have to be around her 24/7. Then as I got older, I had more say in how much time I was really around her.

Now my dad had messed up too… he always reminded me how much my mom resented me and why. He also quit being a dad when I turned 18. Let’s also add in the fact he lied about an older brother I have that I some how figured out as a kid that he was adamant did not exist. My father is a very flawed man and his lack of transparency and his own insecurities with a need to get back at my mom is what killed his relationship with me. This is where my father and him differ. He is a much better man than my father ever was.

I have loved and lost. I have found love again. I have found the person who makes me light up and is that missing puzzle piece. It’s not forced, it just is. When we are together, we don’t know where one ends and the other begins. Our energies create its own entity that you only read about in stories. I want forever with him, but in order to do so I must endure this rollercoaster ride for a little longer, work on controlling my actions, giving him space to process and be the rock he needs right now. I need my anxiety and mood swings under control!

Why can’t love be simple?!? And why must the universe toy with my emotions and send me what I’ve been wanting my whole life that I was convinced didn’t exist just to have it packed in a muddy mess that needs to be washed off and as the mud comes off the wounds are exposed that need healing?

I don’t want to just be the catalyst for change in him as I am with so many others. I fix them, they leave me for something they see as better (generally because I am too much to handle)… then call to see how I am doing because their life is great with the new woman and they are “worried” about me or want to “thank” me for showing them the better path. Let me just tell you, that shit gets so old! They forget who got left behind. I want my endgame. I am ready for my endgame. I don’t mind being his catalyst to get his life going in the right direction as long as that direction leads to a place with me in it and our future together. I do love him— Lots and lots.

Nikki

This is actually from April 28, 2020 that I never posted…

So it’s been quite awhile since I’ve written. Part of it is because its been busy, partly because I lack the ability to sit and focus to let things out.

Last I wrote, I finally saw Liv again. Then I just quit writing about it.

I spent at least 6 hours a night with Liv during that trip. Then I came home and we talked off and on. We had this argument and finally all my feeling as to why I felt so queasy when I thought about her became clear. I did not break her… she broke me!

Denial. Its such a wonderful yet dangerous thing. I knew I was always good at ignoring red flags. I know this about myself. I just didn’t relize the memories I was capable of blocking out.

She is the only person who has ever left bruises on me or tried to take away my life twice with her hands. Amazing how I just forgot. She reminded me of it. She also reminded me that it was the night before a really big interview. What in the hell? How do I just forget?!?!

I didn’t talk to her for a little while while I let it process. Then I went back to town with one of my city girl friends. We saw her for a whole 30 mins in the middle of the night. We talked a little off and on. Pandemic… need I say more?

Anyways, last time we talked, she informed me she was “dating” someone. Not a huge shocker. I knew she wouldn’t stay single. However it set me off. She just played with my emotions. I forgave her. I still wanted her. I still loved her. I blamed myself for everything when really it was her. I don’t claim full innocence but I definately had more to be concerned with than I thought.

I am just angry. I am angry with her. I am angry with me. I am angry I let people take away so much from me. She completely made me feel worthless and stupid me loved the abuser. So many memories came flooding back from that time. Things I just blocked out.

I told her I would grieve one more time after all of her disappearances. My inability to let her go kept me bound to her. I finally told her what I should have a very long time ago. She’s “dead to me.” She no longer needs to exist in my world. She is just a narcassist, mean girl. She needed me to get her through her tough times. She needed the ego boost. She needed her safe person. No more. I am done. I don’t want to grieve I just want to be able to speak of her and not be so angry. I want the anger I feel towards her to be gone. I want the hatred I feel inside of me gone.

Its funny, I was always afraid to hate her or be truly angry with her. I guess I knew once I hit that point, I would never have her back in life. Why was I so afraid? I already know love doesn’t always prevail all. Love only takes you so far.

I used to fear being angry at my father for the things he’s done to me. It took me a long time to finally feel true anger towards him.

I feel rage and whiney a lot but feeling true anger, I rarely feel it. I don’t ever want revenge, I just sit and cry about the things taken from me. I just need to regain my power. Liv tore me down to feeling like I deserved the life I was dealt. In my story, she is a villan. She gave me all this false hope and clung to me. I felt like I meant something, but at the end of the day, she is who she will always be– a narcassist, self-aborbed, manipulative gaslighting bitch. Best part is she has no idea how I could ever even think that about her because “the world doesn’t revolve around you or anyone for that matter” oh and I am “so dumb.”

Nikki

Nikki

My head just keeps spinning and I keep obsessing. I just can’t get her off my mind and trying to sort out how I really feel about things. Let’s also add in the fact that the song “Total Eclipse of the Heart” is stuck in my head and will not come out.

I finally saw Liv again. Basically, I got off the plane, got my kids settled at their grandparent’s house, and off I went for a few hours with her. The initial encounter was a lot more anti-climatic than I thought it would be. It also didn’t help that my child ran out to give her a hug before I made it outside to greet her. I was for sure thinking I would cry. No tears were shed, instead she gave me a half hearted one arm hug that I did complain about being utterly inadequate for seeing someone for the first time in almost a decade. I got a real one later in the night.

The initial encounter was like two old friends seeing each other again: no anxiety; just picking up where we left off as friends (not lovers). We talked a lot. She and I pushed, pulled, and toyed with the idea of what would happen. We talked about what has happened since we last saw one another. I told her about a lot of the stuff I’ve been through since then.

She talked some about what’s happened to her. We have been talking for the last few weeks so most of this was just reinforcing what we already knew. Seeing her so drained and broken brought up even more emotions and things I wasn’t prepared to feel or face.

I am trying so hard to cope with how I feel about this whole thing. I do feel partially responsibily for the breakage of Olivia Young. I keep telling her she’s not broken, but she is. I think, nope… that’s a lie… I know… its me in denial that she is indeed quite broken, and I played a large part in that. What she did and the choices she made in the years I was gone only made it worse. I am also seeing what my illness fully manifesting undiagnosed did to someone I love and care about. I get to see in the flesh the aftermath of the destruction I caused. It’s quite unsettling.

Bipolar people always have some kind of major regret during manic episodes before we are diagnosed which is what causes us to seek out help. Most of the time it’s money-related. My regret was the loss of Liv.

After her, I spent my energy, effort and time in an endless series of just outright bad relationships with men who used and abused me. I knew getting into those relationships that these men were not emotionally capable of healthy relationships. I wouldn’t date a female again because that was too close a memory to Liv. Though, I did have a failed attempt of having a “girlfriend” for all of a few short days, and she was completely bat-shit. There is no other way to describe her.

I had this epiphany that even with David, the guy I cheated on her with, I needed that relationship to be okay because I chose him over her. Now looking at it several years later, I actually did not. What I did was I succumbed to my illness and said it was him I “loved”. I let him in to help me save her from me even though on the surface it appeared he was saving me from her. This is how my mind worked at the time. I couldn’t control me, so I tried to control her by driving her away. I forced her away to let her be free of what was happening to me. I didn’t want her to spend her life chasing after my crazy or visiting me in psych wards. It stressed us both out.

David will be his own post. He is a whole big wonderful barrel of crap all on his own.

Refocusing… Here I am up at 3 am knowing I need to be functional in about 4 hours writing because I can’t get this off my mind and when I lay in bed, I toss and turn til the point of pure frustration.

I am so freaking angry with Liv!!! I was finally at a point in life where I was figuring out myself and why I do the stupid crap I do. I was finally at a point where I didn’t feel broken anymore and had my life together. I moved on from what I did in the past. I was a better person. I finally was starting to aim higher and stopped dating until I found someone worth dating (which hasn’t happened yet). But ooooooooh no…. Liv… “wyd” 3 freaking letters shattered my whole view of myself and I completely imploded.

I did always feel broken so I chose what I perceived to be more broken then me men. I also wanted them emotionally incapable or unavailable. I couldn’t get hurt if knew this upfront. Right? I wanted to fix these men. That was my goal and my self prophesied purpose in life. Usually, that blew up in my face! Either I was sucked into their world, they left me, or I got attached and that snowballed into its own disaster. The vast majority also left plenty of emotional scars as part of me being sucked into their world and allowing myself to be the target of thier abuse. Despite knowing what I did about them, I still wanted and expected to be loved even though it was not possible. I always justified it by clinging to the one good aspect they had and focused on that. I haven’t sustained a relationship lasting past the year mark since Liv.

So last night as I am talking to Liv, I realized exactly why I felt this way… The one person who loved me the way I needed to be loved, I drove away and crushed her heart. As a result, I felt the need to continuely punish myself becuase I had not forgiven myself for what I did to Liv.

I never forgave myself for what happened with Liv. I never forgave myself for hurting her. So when she came back and I saw what her life had become, I blamed myself and wanted to fix it. I want to make it right.

And… I can’t!!!!!

I can’t make it better. All I can do is be a friend and share my experiences with what I have been through and support her as much as she will allow me. I can only hold her hand through so much because ultimately she has to make the decision to deal with her own demons. Only she carries the sword to slay them. I can walk her through the forest to get to the sword, but she has to be the one to pull it out the stone and use it. Its her magick that will kill the demons inside her. Only she knows where to find them and how to annihilate them.

While she is on her own battlefield, I need to forgive myself for the things done when I was undiagnosed and untreated. I need to move forward so that I can have a healthy relationship, whether it be with her or someone else. I have some healing to continue to do as well.

I need sleep…

Nikki

Just a warning.. I am about to rant.

I finally decide to go back to therapy. Today on session #3… I am literally walking and the secretary pulls me aside and informs me that my insurance hasn’t covered any of it. WHAT IN THE %&$@?!?!?!?!

Excuse me…. 3 sessions later at full price they are expecting me to pay out of pocket… She claims she “just found out.” Really? I mean really?!? I even came in early and she shushed me when I told her what I was there for because she was on the phone. Billing should have been figured out prior to my first session!!!

Awkward moment… my therapist is staring me down as I am getting this news. He did ask what I was so frazzled about. Apparently he is hands off in the whole billing dept. Today’s session wasn’t great either. He’s really not a good fit for me, so no love lost there, however more about that later.

I did call my insurance company because I found my current therapist on my “list of providers” from my work and insurance company. They confirmed he wasn’t covered… so again $#%&!!!! Then they told me that the therapist’s office has known since last week things weren’t covered. So did they bother to tell me this last week when I was there or anytime this week? Of course not… seriously… pick up the phone and communicate! They could have given me a call instead of telling me at the most exacgt inopportune moment to where I was stuck in a stupidly uncomfortable situation!

This isn’t my first billing fiasco, it’s actually the main reason I had to stop seeing my old therapist that I actually really liked. After some questionable billing errors, it was discovered that she went out of network. So one day I had a great therapist in network and then the next… if I wanted to see her, it was going to be paying full uninsured price of the visit. I loved her but I didn’t have that kind of money. I stopped going to therapy for awhile as result.

Back to my rant, I am bipolar, and I struggle with anger issues. I go to therapy to help stay sane and stable. Insurance and bad business practices make it IMPOSSIBLE to better myself. Here I am trying to get help to better myself and my life quality and bam! Like that… people mess up, and I lose out on a great therapist or have a debt to pay for talking to someone who is supposed to covered by my insurance and is not. It should not be this difficult to get help for myself. Again.. the universe is like ha ha… you have to stay on the struggle bus… you aren’t getting off that easy. And people wonder why I have anger issues.

Insurance companies are notoriously impossible; that is a given. They also dictate what people can and can’t do which is an issue all on its own. Then let’s couple the fact that when I company overlooks something and then you are just plain screwed- you still have to pay for people’s mistakes. Let’s also not forget the fact that most therapists aren’t accepting new patients or don’t have an opening for several months.

How does this actually make me feel? The obvious forefront answer is angry, but its more than that. I feel hopeless and the more I try to get help and the more challenging it becomes, the more I wonder how much is it worth it? Is it my destiny to be this miserable grump for the rest of my existence? It so discouraging that I can’t do what everyone wants me to do… see someone to help better myself. I can’t! I try. I fail. I want a decent therapist. I just want this to be easy and well.. its not! It makes me angry that it is just a grueling process just to even start therapy and then its more a battle with insurance and people not making sure said insurance is going to go through so the above issue won’t occur.

Continuing on with today’s events, I did actually go to therapy since it was weird and awkward, and I didn’t want to be rude. I am sure that decision will cost me quite a bit of money. That was a bad idea. My therapist also showed himself today. I really felt like he thought I was a whiner, and I need to get over myself. Him stifling back yawning was not very helpful either. He does this every session. He did ask at what point what I wanted to accomplish in therapy. My answer coping with social norms vs my personality along with the extremes I feel as a result of being bipolar. I am thinking bipolar was just not his forte and this whole fiasco with insurance was the universe causing a crash and burn out so that I could find someone more helpful who actually understands the bipolar mindset that won’t cost me a small fortune. Not everyone understands how the bipolar mind works; it very different from the “normal” mind.

As I am writing this, I do realize I never did connect with this therapist which is okay. Connection with a therapist is the key to having successful sessions. I needed to find a new one anyways, however, it would have great not to have to deal with stupid insurance crap or the inept secretary with exceptional bad timing.

Back to the drawing board on finding a decent therapist who understands bipolar and can help me actually cope and fit in with life a little better…

Nikki

Her. Her is infamous in my world. People are always taken aback when they find out she even exists. I don’t always tell people about her. She’s not really a secret but kind of a surprise legend in my life story.

So who is her? Her name is Liv. She is the only female I was in a relationship with and truly loved. Liv and I knew each other as elementary school children with me being two years older. I helped Liv finish school, and she always looked up to me. I was that girl Liv always had a crush on. I never saw Liv in that manner until that one night.

I had just left my husband and had an affair with a guy who’s wife wanted to trial an open marriage and set us up. Well… that went very bad, very fast. As soon as she found out her husband went through with it, it was a classic case of “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” Big, big drama ensued for everyone involved. Needless to say at this point, I was pretty well over it with men and wanted a break from the drama relating to men.

Not even a few weeks later, Liv calls me out the blue and wants to hang out. Mind you, I hadn’t seen her in quite some time. So sure- why not? I had nothing better to do, and I was trying to figure out life as a single person. We went to dinner; and she filled me in on her life, and I filled her in on mine. After dinner, we went out the the city and there was a lot of alcohol involved. She came home with me that night and didn’t leave until two years later when we finally broke up.

So where I am from, being gay was still considered taboo. It is getting better as America in general is more accepting of it, but back then that was not the case. So here I am freshly separated from my husband of six years, suddenly in a lesbian relationship. I didn’t actually know how I felt about it. I mean I knew I always liked girls, but I hadn’t full embraced the idea that I was not the straight woman everyone assumed I was and that I portrayed myself to be. I wasn’t sure how “out” I wanted to be about it. I was already an outcast enough since I was divorcing the beloved preacher’s son.

Thanks to a loud mouth mutual friend Liv and I had, my entire office knew about it before I even came back from my time off. Liv gets the blame for that one because Liv was the one who told her. Many of my older co-workers were trying to pray away the gay, tell me how morally wrong I was, and how much I was messing up my children. My father was not thrilled about his daughter suddenly being gay either. My mother took her usual, whatever stance. Needless to say, I had really two options: let them talk me out of it or fully embrace it before I was ready and forge on the path of being with another female. I opted to prove everyone wrong and that this was not a phase, this who I really am, and everyone could kiss my ass. I let Liv into my life fully and fell deeply and madly in love with her.

I remember the exact moment I knew I wanted to be with her forever. It was during our first kiss. The whole world disappeared and it was just me and her. We were at the bar sitting there, she pulled me close and it just happened. I may have been a little intoxicated but what I felt was so real. I will never forget that moment. Everything about us changed in that moment. That kiss also lasted for three solid hours.

People would describe Liv and my relationship as perfect harmony or nuclear war because of how much we would swing pendulums and the intensity we had with one another. Everything was always so extreme. We were completely obsessed with one another. We had this mad, passionate love for one another. Neither of us were mature enough to know what to actually do with it nor had either of us ever experienced something to that degree. She was my best friend, and we did everything together. We worked the same schedules, and we always were with one another. We had started to lose identity as individual people. Our forgivable flaws started to become not so forgivable. It eventually started to turn into a toxic mess.

During all of this, I was also starting to get sick. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I was in full blown manias, then I would crash and wouldn’t get out of bed for days on end. I was also having mixed episodes, all the while rapid cycling through it. I was terrified to be alone because I didn’t trust myself and didn’t know what I would do or what was causing such extreme responses in me. I was steadily losing my sanity. I didn’t know I was bipolar at the time. She didn’t know what was wrong with me either. She suffocated me because I couldn’t tell her what was wrong and what was happening. She just wanted to understand what was happening to me and to be able to fix it. I just knew something was very, very wrong with me, and I wasn’t sure how much longer my sanity was going to stay intact. We were both scared.

Logically, I should have been placed inpatient or at least seen someone on an outpatient basis, but I was in my mid-20’s, stubborn, in denial, and terrified I was going to be deemed as crazy and lose my job and kids. Mental illness was more taboo than being gay back then and where I am from. But that is in hind sight. What did I do? I told Liv she needed someone more stable and deserved better who wasn’t crazy. She said she wouldn’t leave my side. I told her she had to. She refused.

This is where mania is a bitch. This was my grand solution– I did the unforgivable. I cheated so she would finally let set herself free from me and what I was experiencing. I didn’t want to bring her down with me. I knew she would hurt but would eventually heal. Biggest regret of my life. I lost the love of my life and the only person I ever fully let in my life. I cried for months on end. I am pretty sure it hurt me more than her. I loved her then. I never stopped loving her.

I got what I deserved; she disappeared and shut me completely out of her life and rightfully so. I was so lost without her. I tried for years to tell her I was sorry and that I still loved her. I finally got to a point where I wouldn’t talk about her or even let people know she existed. It hurt that much.

She moved on relatively quickly. She did exactly what I told her not to do. She ended up in super shitty relationships; those are her for her tell not me. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t angry about it. She was supposed to find happiness with someone else because I couldn’t give it to her. That is all I ever wanted for her– to be with someone who makes her happy and treats her right and well who is mentally sane.

As for me, she remains the longest relationship post marriage. I have always looked for someone similar to her but never could find it. I have been in an endless series of horrible and abusive relationships that have left me drained and jaded. I never could bring myself to ever really date another woman because I couldn’t risk losing someone like her again. I never, ever wanted to experience the pain that I did when I lost Liv. That was the absolute worst pain I have ever felt in my life.

Fast forward eight years- I now know what was wrong with me and know how to better manage it. I finally get to see her again in a few weeks. It will be the first time we will see each other face to face since we broke up. I don’t know what will happen. A lot has changed for us both. Life has happened to us both. I will say this much, I did actually gasp when I saw a recent picture of her again for the first time. Regardless of the outcome, Liv will always have a place tucked in my heart that is just for her.

Nikki

Last night, I had this moment when I was in the shower, slipped and smacked my forehead on one of the built in shelves. When I woke up this morning, I was hoping it had knocked me out, and everything from the night before was just a bad dream and my life isn’t really this pathetic. Nope, no such luck… it really is. I drank enough to drop the cloak of denial, and the reality set in that I am one lonely woman at my core when it comes to in person friendships.

Let’s be honest here, I probably shouldn’t drink, much less drink after a potential head injury. It’s not something I do often, but when I do, oh boy look out. My intoxication goes one of two ways: either I am a loud, happy, horny drunk in a manic-like state, or I am a very angry, sad, lonely drunk in the depths of depression I try to hide. Last night was the latter.

The short of it is that I was supposed to go out with a friend last night and was stood up by said friend after a lot of procrastination on said friend’s part. As a result, a series of arguments ensued with said friend and then of course the infamous her got to see what I keep not so well hidden. Her is someone who will be discussed in another blog. Humiliating to say the least; she and said friend got to see just how miserable my most inner core feels the vast majority of the time. Ever heard the saying “drunken words are sober thoughts”; it holds way more truth than anyone ever wants to ever admit.

What’s ironic about being stood up is that when this plan was made, I knew it was going to happen. Realism or self prophecy… I don’t know. It is just the story of my life. This is not the first time this has happened, and I am sure not the last. Regardless, my way to cope with the hurt and disappointment I was feeling was to get super drunk so I didn’t feel anything. That totally backfired, and I felt EVERYTHING I didn’t want to and I couldn’t keep up usual stand-offish facade I like to think I have going for me. Those who came in contact with me knew it too.

Me being me, I was pissed and super dramatic about the fact I was spending yet another night alone. Her got to hear all about it and as a result is not speaking to me today. Oh well, she’s seen me do worse and if that runs her off… so be it. That is about where I am in life. Though tomorrow I may feel different.

All I wanted last night was some face-to-face adult interaction that wasn’t my ex husband (I see enough of him). It is something I crave. I am actually quite the lonely woman that lacks in person, non-work hour friendships. I say this because most of my friends live far away (even the ones I work with), and it is not easy for us to get together because it’s either a battle of big city traffic or they live out of state. Most my close friendships are maintained by way of technology of some sort. So needless to say, I was excited to have someone to hang out with in person that wasn’t my family or one of my animals. This is what I get for getting excited about something. I actually mean this because it seems anytime I am excited about something, the universe is like.. ha ha that’s not allowed and something happens to ruin it.

So to put my lack of friendships into perspective, I never went to traditional college so I don’t have friends from college. I was pregnant when I graduated high school. This alone has put me in a different place in life than my peers. One of my current life goals is not to be a grandma, and I have teenagers, where as my friends have newborns and toddlers. I got married when I was 21 to a man who was way older than me. Again, my peers are just now getting married, and I’ve been divorced for almost 10 years now and can’t maintain a stable relationship beyond the year mark. My early adulthood was spent around those older than me and as a result, I was functioning at a level of a 40 year old in my early 20’s. Now I am kind of regressing some. I have never actually been on the same level as my immediate age group. I also work the graveyard shift and have my entire adult life which makes it that much harder to maintain a “normal” life. To further complicate things, I moved far away from home to an area of introverts who come up with new ways on a regular basis on how not to socialize with others. My extroverted nature is not very welcome and does not thrive here. There’s the background info.

Circling back to last night’s full blown drunken failure, I was drunk enough to have everything about myself exposed and incapable of being in denial, yet not drunk enough to just feel nothing (which is what the goal was). It was total mental overload from my own feelings and emotions that I keep squashed down. Today, I am actually not hung over and the only thing that hurts is the knot from where I hit my head last night. I have always had the ability to know when I’ve had too much and to maintain a certain level of sobriety so that I can stay somewhat functional. I call it the curse of being a control freak; I just can’t ever let go enough to lose control. I also text way better in that state than I do sober; that in itself is just plain weird. Said friend at one point didn’t believe that I was actually quite intoxicated.

So here I am unable to deny what is because the alcohol dropped the veil I keep up. I hate the fact I am so lonely all the freaking time. I know people love and care about me but they aren’t physically here. Friendships via technology only does so much for the extrovert in me what wants to experience life in person. Friends in the town I live in are nonexistent because the idea of being friends with someone in adulthood just plain freaks people out. I freak people out. I do it all the time. Its very discouraging.

I find myself envious of my friends who go out with their other friends in a group, have dinner parties, or go on girls’ trips. I hold back tears or full blown ugly cry when no is around because I know that I just don’t have those types of friendships and never have. Once upon a time, I was a socialite in my hometown until a series of events occurred and ultimately, I had to move. But even then, I was never invited to these type of things. It was me hosting, paying to go to these kind of events, or a result of the mommy support group I ran for awhile. It was a rare thing that I was ever invited to a group event; 99% of the time it was one-on-one time which has its merits, but I always felt like and still do feel like I am not good enough to be a part of a group of friends activity. They happen very, very rarely now-a-days. Everyone is too far away or too busy living their lives. As an aside, I am kind of antisocial when it comes to work events. I like to maintain a certain distance from the vast majority of my coworkers.

I question a lot of times what is wrong with me and why I don’t have friendships like other people do. Then I remember… I am bipolar. I have mood shifts and swings when I am sick. I am too much of this or too much of that. I am different. I talk too much. I speak my mind. Most my friend’s SOs I just don’t get along with for whatever reason. I suffocate my friends. I want to actually get out the house and go places and see and do things. I expect too much. There is always something. Always a reason. Whatever the case may be, I am still left feeling alone and craving in person interaction because I am deprived of it. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends I do have and am grateful technology has allowed us to stay in touch. I miss them all very much, but I want them here so that we can do stuff together!!!

My loneliness has resulted in me having a cat who I am allergic to that sneezes in my face all the time and a pup who I can’t take very far because he gets car sick. I have my children, but I need an identity that isn’t just mom or career woman, and this is the part of my life I am speaking to.

I am sure at this point, my readers are like why don’t you date?!? Dating in your 30’s sucks. I can rant forever on it and am choosing not to at this moment.

Now that I am sober again, I can hopefully put that wall back up and carry on, but I know deep down, I am just that sad, lonely woman who is starving for in person friendships to go on adventures with.

Nikki

So here it is. I finally decided to start writing about my life. I’ve been told since high school I need to write a book about it, but that requires entirely too much effort. This is about as close as it is going to get for now.

I am 35. I was diagnosed four years ago as bipolar type 1 (the mania driven kind) when I went to the doctor to get on something to help with my depression and anger. Mind you, this was after I caught my live-in boyfriend cheating on me with the way too young for him girl that I had been suspecting for awhile. Girls just know shit; life would be easier if people just told the truth. Anyways, I told my doctor I couldn’t take SSRI’s because it made me feel like I was on speed. Her first word were, “have you ever been diagnosed as bipolar?” Nope. I was appalled at such an absurd accusation. I went for a second opinion; turns out she was right, and I was in a lot of denial. Since then, two psychiatrists and one psychologist have confirmed her suspicions. I currently have another psychologist pending his professional opinion on it since I have a new therapist. He hasn’t said one way or another yet. He is still trying to figure how I am still semi-normal and a functional adult with everything I have been through in this life coupled with the idea of me being bipolar. More to come on his thoughts.

I am a functional adult. I have a career, financially stable, relatively behaved and well-adapted children, and an ex husband who I can’t seem to shake. We live in a split level, and he lives downstairs and me upstairs so that our kids can have one house and parents who co-parent. We get along enough to maintain peace but I have zero desire to get back together with him. We have been divorced for almost 10 years now so if that loving feeling hasn’t come back yet, he’s got no hope it ever will. I wish he would date. On a side note, this was not always the case, its been for the last three years when we moved to where we are now. That’s a story for another day. I am sure that day will come out sooner or later.

So what prompted me to finally take the plunge? Well… it all has to do with a friend of mine telling me “I am not your personal diary” and then ranting about boundaries and the fact I blow up her phone because I text like a teenager. This was actually after two texts about anxiety I was having after work. Never mind the fact, she does the same, but well the issue was about me, and she has taken the stance that I am a violator to her inner peace and am too chaotic. Once I got over the fact she was out-right rude and arrogant about the whole thing, I did actually reflect on the fact that I do have a lot of feelings and opinions about life and the shit I get myself into on a regular basis. She isn’t wrong, my life is chaos more often than not. She’s probably not the only I drive crazy, just the only one to say it out loud. Still… the whole thing could have been handled better, and she could not have blown up and kept her inner calm that I constantly am being told by her that I lack. She did make sure to tell me to consult my therapist on the matter and when I find out I am wrong, she will be waiting for an apology. Oh and that she knew she was being extreme and made sure I knew she was not sorry. Guess what… he agreed she was being shitty and she has the power NOT to answer her texts. I haven’t bother to tell her this and that her whole rant was a projection of her owner inner reflections that she thrust upon me. We shall see if and when we talk again. I am finally at a point in life where I can say I don’t need friends like that. It just sucks because we were good friends. The explosive attack was not the first time. I used to keep these type of friends because I felt that was the best I can do. I do not feel that way anymore. I hope she figures herself out sooner rather than later and doesn’t continue this cycle.

So back to me and my own inner workings and life thoughts. The above squabble is something I tend to get into a lot more than the average human. I have known this about myself and have been told many, many times… I attract drama. I have finally figured out why– I have a tendency to shove a mirror in people’s faces and make them face the truth of who they really are. I don’t ever intentionally do this unless it’s a significant other I am angry at (in which I am referred to as vicious or an emotional terrorist). Unfortunately, it happens with a lot of people, most of them in a place of power over me. It happens because when I speak my own inner truth and self reflection and am functioning at the highest level of me, I make people reflect on their own inadequacies and bring out what makes them feel self conscious. As a result, I am a threat and must be taken out or at least that’s how I feel.

I am an ever evolving being who is self aware and striving to be the best version of me. People constantly tell me I am not enough of this or too much of that. There is no balance. When I am finally at a place where I am content being me and accepting of my own actions, I land myself in trouble of some sort. I just can never win. I am convinced that the universe hates me or is using me as some catalyst to change the world. The first one is more realistic and the latter is just me trying to justify why my life is such a struggle.

Well… I must be going for now. I have a puppy under my bed actively tearing up something I probably need. Until next post….

Nikki

Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.

— Oscar Wilde.

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