Tag Archives: Memoir

Counter-Dependence Series Post 2- I never was super woman…

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Just so you are aware, everything I mention here, unless otherwise noted, is geared for adults and not for children.*

What I found crazy interesting is this statement in the book “The Flight From Intimacy”- “People with counter-dependent behaviors also have a sense that they are not ‘whole’ without the help of someone else… however, they try to hide this fact from others so they can appear as if they really don’t need other people.”

I am super woman, remember?? I don’t need anyone. I can drive myself to the hospital with baby bag in hand, a camera and cell phone in the other, ready to give birth to my 4th child. Yep, I can do it all alone. After giving birth, without any drugs because I am super woman and don’t need them, I happily kept my baby girl in my hospital room overnight, refusing help from the nurses, because I am superwoman, and then the next morning, I dress myself, my 1 day old baby girl, put her into her infant carrier, and (with snow and ice falling the night before) I walk us to the car parked in guest parking and I drive us home in freezing temperatures… I NEED NOBODY.

I FUCKING LIED…

And my sick brain knew it… and punished me severely for it.

Yes, I am telling you the truth. My husband at the time was deployed to the Middle East when I was 37 weeks pregnant. I was alone in a new state with no family, and hardly a friend. I had myself, and I would not let us down… and I do have to say that I did do an amazing job… my Mommy instincts took over, and even though my mind was slowly unraveling, it did not fail me where it mattered most~taking care of my babies.

I did myself a disservice though by pretending to be so strong, because the truth was, I wasn’t at all. I truly believed I didn’t need a soul, but fooling myself was no easy task and after a short time, my world fell apart. I destroyed what I wanted the most… my family.

Now I have 20/20 vision and can clearly see what I should have done at that time, yet it does me no good… I can’t have back what I lost, all I can do is observe my self and make changes in my life daily to mend the broken Muse.

©bipolarmuse 2014

Read more on this new series on Counter Dependency- Post 1 Introduction

Just A Little Disclaimer**

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When I began this blog, I was wanting to use it as a journal of sorts where I could just “bleed on paper” and write freely without censoring myself. Over time, people I know on a personal level are also aware of my blog and therefor have an insiders view to by mind. I don’t mind this at all… except… well, don’t make me feel as though I need to filter myself or censor myself. Please. Pretty please.

Understand that when I write, many of my posts began months ago, sometimes even longer… and many times, my writings are not about this very moment I am in… many times, I dive back in time to a certain memory, a certain feeling, a place in my mind… I write out my “ifs, ands, or buts”, I may dwell on something sad, or maybe on something that has you scratching your head and asking, “Haven’t you gotten over this yet”? The answer to that is… Yes, and No.

What I write about, and who I am are an accumulation of events… or moments rather… that have impacted me and have helped to shape and mold me into who I am right at this moment. All 37 years behind me have made me the Musey that I am. I write to release, I write because I enjoy writing and love to put on to paper what I cannot say with my lips, I write because I want to, and because I can.

Some things that I write about may seem like I am referring to a person when I am not at all. I often change my Bipolar disorder into a “being”, personifying it… turning it into a crushing presence resembling what can only be in human form… when of course, it’s not.

I do the same with many other aspects and battles in my life.

It may seem as though I linger too lovingly, obsessively, over a past person, a past trauma. Again, remember that my writings are often about a certain time, or time frame… where I surrender to the thoughts in my head, fitting for that time. A moment recollecting “time”, and handing myself over in that rare moment, to sink back to a realm allowing myself to feel, to close my eyes and forget for a moment, this place… and to hand myself over to the intense wave of emotions, good and bad, that rode passenger to the specific moment in “time” that I am visiting to tap into my craft… the muse’s to my heart, departing and healing with each visit… in which these very words fall perfectly from my mind in this experience, to my lips to share here with you.

So please, always keep this in mind as you read… because I truly do want to share openly what I can comfortably share, and that which at times may be uncomfortable as well, and I want to do so feverishly. I have a flame inside. I want to use it… to scorch my heart and soul, feeding the flame, so that it may purify… scorching those painful moments, purifying me… so that I may continue forward with a clean slate, as a “whole” Muse.

Times Defining Moments

The mental pain is becoming worse with each day that passes. I am back to being tearful daily and I have to work so hard to try to remain present… to chase those thoughts that crush me from my mind.

That heaviness in my chest is little by little stealing my breath… my breath that wreaks ” the stench of regret”.  For a long time there was a single defining moment in my life… B’s suicide. Life became a “before” and “after” of that traumatic experience… nothing could touch the destruction of my mind and my heart… nothing felt nearly as painful, nothing compared to the agony. His suicide stole my happiness, stole my hope, killed my spirit.

Now I have noticed that life has given me a 2nd single defining moment in time… “before” and “after” destroying my life a second time including the abuse my son suffered by a monsters hand… “before” and after my breakdown… “before” and “after” 2009. It is sad that time holds me prisoner to the heartache.

I have been struggling alot lately. My mind is going a million miles an hour… and my only relief comes in the form of sleep. I am very grateful that the medications I am on help to knock me out day in and day out. Sometimes it becomes so exhausting that I sleep all day… and then all night. My dreams can haunt me at times, but for the most part… it is relief. ~sigh~

The struggle is tough…

I was lucky that for a time there I was able to get rid of one of my psych meds, but that was short lived and I am now back on that medication. I feel like a druggie… living life under the veil of medication. But I must do it to live. I haven’t a choice in the matter and it is something I just need to get over. Just because I have to take it does not mean I am weak, or a failure. It just is what it is… and who is keeping score anyways.

It just is.

The Monster I Loathe…

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I have been struggling lately and it is crushing. My chest is heavy, my eyes are tearful, all I want to feel is painless mentally and physically… I want to be numb. I totally understand how many people with mental issues have substance abuse problems as well. Sometimes it comes to the ancient  question of what came first, the chicken or the egg?

My heart hurts and my mind keeps diving into the past causing me to have “flashes” of moments that hurt me to my core, to my very soul. I want to go back in time and slap the shit out of myself… I want to yell and scream, I want to release my rage and rid myself of the monster on my back. I want to go back to a time when I did not know hate. To a time when my blood didn’t run cold. To a time that just one change, would have prevented this pain. Could it have been prevented?

My brain has me hostage. I hope with all my heart that God is real… and I hope He can remove this unhealthy brain and show me what it is to be pain free… to feel content, to show me what it is like to replace tears of pain and heartache to tears of happiness.

Life is brutally beautiful. It is happiness, and it is alot of pain as well. Those painful moments help us to recognize and appreciate the good… right? I absolutely hate to lose sight, and I feel like just that is happening.

I feel like my only reprieve is sleep. And luckily, the medications I am on help me to sleep very well. I am very appreciative for that little miracle. I know just how destructive it is to lack in sleep… it is horrible and makes life so much harder.

It is what it is, right? Life that is.

Another day down…

I will just pop another pill and hope for a numbing moment where I can sit here truly in the present and appreciate the good I do have instead of lingering in my head where there’s a constant reminder of the regret that swallows me whole.

I just want happiness to be the basis of my being.

Is that too much to ask for?

Another May Comes Around

Wow… I do not know where the time has gone! Of course, as I think about the last 20 years,  I think back to the different struggles (and the happy moments as well), I do not feel like I am the same person. Somehow, that part of me has died and left behind this part of me to move forward and forge a new path. I truly feel dead from the 2001 Muse… or the 1999 Muse. I do have some lingering pieces of myself from the 2003-2009 part of me though… and I hold onto those with a terrifying need. I feel like the pieces are slowly falling through my fingers to shatter and become scattered at my feet. For some reason, I feel this insane hunger to hold onto that time frame.

I do that as well with thoughts of B. For those of you who have followed along, you should remember who B is. For those of you who are new, or if you need a refresher… he is an ex who killed himself a couple months after we broke up. We had a very tumultuous relationship full of anger, doubt, hate, love, passion, and a need to feed off of the toxic elements we both brought to the table.

This year is his 12yr death anniversary. Wow. It is so crazy to think about how long ago that feels, yet the raw emotion of his choice still scratches hungrily at my heart, needing to feed on the misery, the sadness, the “why’s”. It is crazy… we all know the big “WHY”…. it is the smaller ones I need answered… the more personal… the acts directed at me personally… my “why’s” lie in that grey area and will never be satisfactorily answered. Only in the truth of Gods love and promise will I find the answers to my questions, providing there is such a place…

And so I sit.

I wonder.

I ponder.

My head gets heavy and water threatens to ruin my mascara and eyeliner.

Not this year… I won’t cry. I will smile to myself and laugh… shake my head in the realization he did hold up to ONE promise… he swore he would… But, he did say it wouldn’t be goodbye, it would be “see you soon”… we will see if that promise stands the test of time.

So Here I Sit

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Yesterday was July first… significant to me because it was the day that I had to fly my two little ones home to Texas for final preparations before their move to Germany with their Dad. Two hours ago, I traded them off to their Dad, and now I sit at the airport (an overnight stay on an uncomfortable bench) waiting to board my flight right back home. We reached our destination at midnight, and I board my next flight shortly after 5am.

Does this blow a big one?? Hell yes it does. Happily, the kiddo’s were so excited to see their Dad that I was able to help keep their happiness levels on nice even ground. I assured them that we will ‘skype’ and do ‘facetime’ VERY soon so we can see each other as we talk. They seemed to really like that idea which makes me ecstatic! I will NEED to see them and talk to them while they are away. It seems like they grow like weeds and I am unable to keep track and record all of their babyhood and childhood growing adventures.

Having them here with me for the month was beautiful and absolutely amazing. I literally enjoyed every moment from doing things with a couple friends to just relaxing at home with them. We watched Netflix, drank chocolate milk, ate cereal, and drank Gatorade…. ate chips, noodles, snacks… you get my drift.

I slept in their room every night, (and I certainly enjoyed that very much), and took turns cuddling them. I listened to their breathing become more rhythmic, and took delight in staring at their beautiful features under the moon light.

I loved every moment given to me.

And I look forward to more.

Right now, I focus on staying healthy… and will work ever so diligently on that.

I will always strive to be the best Mom I can be… and I will practice being more and more of what they need.

Because when it comes down to it… isn’t it all about making them happy?? Creating moments for them to remember forever?? Watching them grow in happiness, health, and always have that beam of sunlight shine upon me from the happiness in the hearts??

That is where my love is. It is not selfish… it is not spiteful… it is not hurtful.

It is holding hands, little kisses, unspoken moments, and sadness turned into happiness.

And so now, I sit in this airport… so silent. I hold onto the smiles and hugs and kisses… I hold onto the “I love you’s”… I hold onto the fact that they will experience a life I could not have given them. I hold onto the hope that they will one day understand my selflessness was born of love for them… My selfish mind and heart wants to fight tooth and nail to have them in my custody at all times, but that is not what is best for the kids…

And so I hold on.

Another Twist In Life

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I recently went on a trip to visit my little ones… it was beautiful and so natural to be with them. As their Mom, I feel like there is always a part of me missing, I am always missing out on something.

I get “I miss you’s, I love you’s, I will see you soon.”

I miss tucking them to bed at night, good morning kisses, hearing “that’s my Mom” when they are at a school play and find where I am standing to watch them. I miss knowing their favorite foods, missing teeth, meeting their teachers. I miss out on every aspect of their life except for the few minutes I get to talk to them… and the visits that keep me sane. 

While I was there, I got some very sad news… they are moving to Germany for three years.

Yes… Germany.

I cried instantly and have been very tearful ever since… trying to fight off the complete breakdown. I need to be strong… I will be.

While I know everything will work out, I am afraid that them moving so far is going to do something to my mental health. I can feel it. I love my children so  much, and while I want them to experience another country, I feel as though they need to experience me more… I feel like I am in the dark without them… and I KNOW that they need me as well. That being said, I could not, nor would not stand in the way of their move. I love them and want all the best for them… I want them to see life and live it… I want them to enjoy living in another culture.  I want them to truly live.

I guess what I do not want is for them to forget about me… 

I wish they could stay.

“Please remember me.”