Bipolar: Great in bed, Hard to live with

I’ve been too broke to afford  off my meds for a month now. or has it been two months? Any way, I have been on the brink of mania every day, then I teeter between self-loathing and something resembling  positive self-esteem.  It is never easy but it’s easy to distract myself with work or some made up drama that my mean mind likes to come up with to keep my brain sharp maybe? At work life is simple. There’s order, a flow that, no matter how mundane, makes time fly and I get a healthy dose of human interaction. But some mornings my face feels like it’s going to crack like porcelain. Split in half with all of these fake smiles. But it’s too easy to reduce it to just fake smiles. I feel manic wonderful most mornings. These are the days I love most. Where I am on top of the world and life is magic. Alas, today is not such a morning. But is it because of my lack of controlled substance or is it an outside force? Like others’ attitudes? Even now the point I was trying to eludes me. Hmm, I thought I was going somewhere with this. I will say that I am fortunate for those who stay by my side while I figure this all out. It’s so expensive going to a doctor and while I will go back, in the mean time I have to second guess everything. I don’t know if what I feel is valid or if it’s just in my head.  I also have PMDD so everyday is a struggle…yay

M.V

Wanderer

You don’t love?

Are you blind?

I’m a star burning brilliantly after all

You don’t love me?

I’ve been here for you but I don’t matter now that new opportunities shine on your bleak horizon. 

We don’t fit?

I am the missing jigsaw piece of your heart. 

You love me?

But you want to leave when we could have it all. 

I am desolate but always full of hope. I will be fine. You will always be a wanderer. 

Unloveable 

I write this with tears falling from my eyes. How cliché? I write this with clarity. Knowing full well that I am unloveable. I ruin all of my relationships. What am I afraid of? Or perhaps I’m just living proof that love is not real. It truly is a word soaked in honey to attract flies. I’m a fly in the spider’s den. I am alone. Only a drop of paint in the great mosaic of love’s canvas? Really? Is this it? I am never a great love only a footnote. A lesson learned by our great protagonist. Crying changes nothing. Another drop in the endless sea of sorrow, lost hope, depression. I thought I loved but it was only fancy. I thought I was adored but was only a receptacle for what was unwanted. I want to say that I will be strong and perhaps one day I could be. But right now? I drown. I drown and sink. I am through fighting. 

M.V

Eff this ess

I’m just going rant:

Relationships SUCK!

You’re supposed to put your trust in another human being who has as many issues, if not more, than you do? Stupid. We’re human- we make mistakes and then try to act like the calendar is supposed to mark when you move on? I torture myself all the time. I have too many thoughts in my head and too little self-respect. What the actual fuck is wrong with us? And then we want to marry and make babies?! What nonsense is this? There’s no one to trust when you can barely trust yourself to keep it together. My life is falling apart. People aren’t who they seem to be. I’m so full of rage and idk what to do. When I turned it inward, I woke up with a massive headache. I’m confused. I want so much to believe in love but I can’t do this anymore. I’m to the point where to be alone doesn’t sound as scary as it did a week ago.  

M.V

Passing the time

Where do I go from here?

Am I yours to only pass the time?

Waiting for your true love

While I sit alone with your shadow. 

Chest heaves, my heart aches,

My limbs are numb. 

Your voice an echo of past hurts

Softly lying to me. 

Do I stay? Do I run?

I want to sink into the ocean. 

The dull roar of waves above my head. 

Darkness cradling me;

Lulling me to sleep. 

But your voice is still with me. 

I’m in hell and you’re my guide. 

All while waiting for your love

And you’re killing me while you wait. 

M.V

Hollow

It’s all over

Her hand full of tiny promises.

Promises of silence.

Her glass of wine washes them down.

Still feeling hollow she drinks more

and falls asleep.

Tears fall from her eyes when she

realizes she is awake and has only

a pounding headache to remind her that

promises are always broken.

M.V