A L O N E and i do not understand why

Why don’t people want to be in my life, I wonder. God, I wonder what’s wrong with me.

I just want to die. It’s the truth. Lots of people, especially with mental illness do, but I’m just sharing about it. Here’s my truth.

I have a loving husband who works so hard and lots of hours.

I have a mom who is disabled and we don’t always get along so well.

I have a beautiful, talented son who is doing what he shouold be doing, which is growing and living and moving on.

I have sisters who will not speak to me. Not for years.

I had a best friend of decades stop speaking to me last year, and I still have no idea why.

I have one long distance friend. We are very close. But I don’t see her. And she and I don’t talk nearly as much as we used to.

I have another very good friend who I talk to a few times a week, and sometimes I see her when passing through my hometown.

I have a few supportive, lovely, online friends who understand Bipolar.

Beyond this, I’m alone. And I’m very lonely.

And of course I know I have God. But I want people, too. I want phone calls and hugs and interaction. There are so many people I’ve tried to befriend. I genuinely care for these people, and I truly don’t think they give a toss about me.

It’s getting bad. I’m feeling so low. Considering my old ways of self-harm. Feeling desperate, and there are moments of feeling suicidal.

This is not all to do with Bipolar, but it certainly doesn’t help.

Why am I sharing this? To be accountable, on the record, and in order not to do something bad to myself.

Thanks to you few who truly care. I know who you are.

Anyway

3.26.19 blog entry

Ugh. This won’t be a happy entry. Not a long one, either. Just feeling like such a loser and battling the whole, “why bother.” Feel like such an absolute, utter waste of space. Just really don’t think I can do anything more than breathe. I don’t feel like I can help my family or myself. I feel so alone. I fake it throughout the days just to cry at night. Anyway…..

Mad and Hurt

3.16.19

I’m getting really tired of giving more than I get back. Exhausted of loving more than I feel I am loved back. (My son is the exception.) These are the most dangerous of days.

Poem

3.3.19

What is there to do
When you are so alone
That the air leaves the room
And the voices in your head are silenced?

And even a roaring fire
Chills you to the bone
The flowers no longer bloom
And the wilted petals have lost their brilliance?

There’s no more resilience.
There’s only your penance.

by @jenm_curry
2019

The Opposite – a story

2.21.19

The Opposite

Story by @jenm_curry – possible trigger

I imagine a few at the service. A service sprinkled with an occasional photo of her looking happy.

Looking.

I imagine a couple of kind words; maybe a story or two. I imagine a child in anguish, wondering why more people weren’t in attendance, and then the sadness that will overcome his face when he realizes she was alone, followed by a brief moment of terror on his face. After all, what if this is his fate down the line, he thinks. I imagine a couple of acquaintances, or someones who knew someone else.

They might take a few minutes after they’ve left the service and are back home changing clothes, readying themselves for dinners with families and friends wondering to themselves, what did people do to her.

The reality being quite the opposite really.

Because in fact, it’s all about what people did not do.

(Photo credit: Google images)

Not Even One

I’m so lonely. I’ve been in this quaint, picturesque, small town for almost three years now.

I do not have one friend.

It’s not as if in the area back where we lived most of our lives I had dozens of friends I went out with, but I certainly had more than where I am now.

With my physical limitations, being a caretaker to my mom, a parent to a Bipolar teen and wife of a hospice chaplain, I cannot make plans and confidently, consistently meet penciled in dates because I hurt so badly one way or another. Back home, if I had to cancel, the people around me knew me and the situations well enough and understood. We just rescheduled. I don’t have that luxury here. I am just so, so lonely. Like crying buckets of tears alone kind of lonely, and I’ve no clue how to better my situation.

Hope you guys are doing well. Thanks for being part of the #bipolaruninvitedblog family. Take care of yourselves and each other when and how you’re able. ✌❤🌹

Open

OPEN ~ 6.1.18

It’s an absolute crime not to get up from my seat and walk over and open the blinds to allow sunlight in and see the birds flying about. It seems I cannot will myself to get up and do it, though. The cat seems intrigued as to what’s going on out there. Hmm.

I’ll have to look and open the blinds, just because I don’t want to do so. It’s important for me to take steps like that and not slip into a rather deep, dark hole.

I’m feeling alone today. Have been for a few days. I feel like even though I am busy and ill, I take the time to reach out to others, but I don’t feel any reciprocation. Not from friends or family.

I just want to retreat further within myself. Trying not to, though.

Trying…..

On Invisibility

Thursday, 2/8/18 by way of pics.

This.

This. Just this.

~~~~~

So, revisiting this entry approximately three hours later.

I’m just going to add that I feel so low and alone. That’s why I’ve not written much lately. However, I’m trying to log something because this is one of the worst things about Bipolar. Thinking you’re as low and alone as possible, but no, there is still somehow a way to dive lower.

You know, it’s not a dive, as just said above. It’s drowning. With heavy stones in your pockets. Drowning.

I’m not even sure how to describe it. The best I can do now is just write what I can when I can.

When It’s Best to STHU!

Usually, I enjoy the quiet when everyone in the house has gone to bed. It’s nice as I can real quick-like freak out because of overstimulation. People talking too loud. Too much action on the tv. Accidentally reading something stressful. Just too much movement, noise and…well, chaos.

However, tonight with the sun down and everyone asleep, I feel incredibly lonely. That tends to not go all that well for me,  because some crapola from my past sneaks in and floors me. Sometimes, I can sort through it using the toolbox my therapist and I built. The other times, nothing works. Tonight is just that…nothing working.

 

 

I wrote about what was bothering me, my dad long-gone and my family through him. Steps and halves. Easier to say family, even if it doesn’t feel that way 100% of the time. I’m not going to post it yet, though. I’ve learned to let it simmer and read it again the next day after some rest…figure out if I still think I should post it, or send the email, or make a call…whatever the case may be.

So, I wait…