I've Lost Me: Please Leave A Message

What a year it's been. A lot of good and some bad and when it's good, it's really good. The downside to that is when it's been bad, it's been really bad. I've lost myself somewhere along the way, or I should say, I've lost my edge, my solid ground, my stability mentally. I've shut down and I'm on cruise control. It's still moving so good enough, right?

Start with the good or do I get the bad off my chest? I always try to stay positive on here but sometimes that's easier said than done. Let's start with the bad. What's the worst that could happen? Let's find out...

I quit taking my meds. Like a while ago. Ok like a long time ago. I was cured so what do you want from me?! Then I needed to be able to go without sleep and to have bipolar brain so I could multitask and it just kept snowballing until it was moving too fast to stop and the inevitable happened and I crashed and burned. And I did it at work. That's always fun and neat and super comfortable for everyone involved. I had a panic attack. All the noises became magnified and the sweat started along with the tight chest. My vision tunneled and then the anger started because dealing with the true emotion is stupid so getting angry helps everything always. I ended up in the bathroom on the phone with my wife (yes I got married and yes we'll get to that later) telling her I was going to quit because all I cared about was escaping. I needed to run and I wasn't sure where I just knew it would get me away from there. She told me to go talk to my Supervisor who is like a sister to me and that she would understand. I don't have her permission to use her name so I won't but she is an amazing person and a great friend. Speaking of amazing, Tabbee got me calmed down and off I went. I walked in the door to let S know I was leaving and next thing I know I was crying. Yay. Loved that in so many ways said me never.

The problem I have is I listen to peoples worst day ever every time I work. Death hangs out and monitors the phones ready to interject at a moments notice. Even as a trainee, he whispers in my ear that I can make this a relatable moment and if I would only put myself in the caller's shoes then surely I'll hear my mom's voice if I concentrate hard enough or I'll hear the click of the gun that took my buddy way too soon or the tears of the mom, sister, brother, son, parent, child will wash away the guilt I feel for being glad I'm alive when someone else is not. I am seeing the deceased when I'm not at work and I can hear their voices and all I can do is answer not caring what strangers think but hoping they can hear me and that's a comfort for them. I've lost me. Please leave a message and I'm hoping to get back with you shortly.

So I got married and I love being a husband. She helps me more than anyone could. She has helped me get back on my meds and been supportive with all of this. I can be honest with her about everything and that's refreshing. She didn't look at me crazy when I told her I've been hearing and seeing Justin. She's never made me feel stupid for who or what I am. That's huge. That's love. That's til death do us part.

I'm not sure I'm the super low % of people that can do this job. I do know that I respect and love my coworkers. I can say they never get the recognition they deserve or have earned. I can say that not everyone can do what they do-being a superhero isn't for everyone. I think I'm proof of that. And that's ok.

I'm going to be ok. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow but I will be. I've made it 47 years and I plan on sticking around for more so here's to round whatever the hell it is of starting meds again and finding myself. Thanks for letting me vent and I'll try to write more often. I appreciate each and every one of you...don't forget 988 if you're needing help and 911 is always there for you as well. Either way, there's a superhero on the other end waiting to help.

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

It's Been Awhile But Life Is Good

 I didn't realize how long it had been since I'd last written but I'm thinking maybe that's a good thing. I've really been in a good place mentally and life has been good so I've been enjoying it. Let me go ahead and fill you in.

First and foremost, I have an amazing woman in my life that has done nothing but prove on a daily basis that someone can genuinely love me for me. No strings attached. No drama attached. No other motive than to be happy, be a strong couple and to face every day together as a team. When she says she loves me, it's more than just words. It's in her every action, her every look she gives me, her every laugh. She loves my family like they're her own, she loves my friends like they were her's first and she loves me like I'm the only man she's ever wanted Her kiddos make me feel wanted and part of the family every day.  Never once in our entire relationship have I ever had to question how she feels about me, never been filled with doubt, never had to wonder if she's being honest or just keeping me around because I'm convenient until someone else comes along. I'm a lucky man and I can only hope that I make her feel the same way she makes me feel every single day. She's my partner, my friend and my forever person. 

I've been battling being sick and was dealing with some long term effects that was beginning to become more than depressing but a vitamin regimen of all things has been a game changer and I'm feeling better than i had in quite awhile. Starting tomorrow, I'll be going to the gym and starting keto again and start making life a little healthier.

My oldest, Ashlyn, has made me a Papa again and she is such a wonderful mother to my two grandbabies and hard working mom. Braden passed the Bar and is now an attorney and engaged to his partner in crime. Corynne has been dealing with major health issues but is one of the toughest and driven people I know and amazes me every day with how she can life can deal her a hit and she just keeps on truckin'. I couldn't be more proud of them.

I have started a job that is fulfilling in every way. I get to help people and am part of an environment that doesn't just say we're a family but actually proves we are a family every day thru actions, words and environment. I have the best coworker's a person could ever hope for that genuinely care about me as a person, cheer me on for success and celebrate right along with me when I'm able to accomplish something. I can be there for 12 hours a shift and can honestly say I am excited to get there on my way to work, excited to see them and learn from them while I'm there and miss them when I'm on my way home. If that doesn't explain how wonderful my job is then I don't know what to tell you.

I still see Katie who is not only the best therapist but a great friend. She's been a huge part of helping me be the person I want to be and need to be. She's my pick me up when I am at my lowest, my voice of reason and has always been there for me whether it's to be proud of me or to listen to the rantings of my sometimes irrational thoughts on life. I will forever be indebted to her.

It goes without saying that I have the best mom in the world that I still have to have my coffee sessions with because I will always have that momma's boy in me and I'm proud of that fact. My big brother  and sis continually cheer me on and always have my best interest at the forefront. I'm a lucky guy.

I guess what I'm trying to say is life is good. I've had a few bumps along the way but that just keeps life interesting. I've learned to let life happen. Well let's not get carried away- I'm learning to let life happen. To not analyze ever little thing. That Tabbee saying I love you is nothing more than her genuinely loving me. My coworkers accepting me and liking me is nothing more than they actually like Ryan for who Ryan is. I'm learning that if I start trying to find a hidden meaning in things, I'll miss out on the actual meaning and it is so much more fulfilling.

I'm excited for the things happening in my life. The chance to put my mental health advocacy to work while at work, to feel blessed with the new friends and family in my life, Tabbee, the kiddos. Life is good and I'm going to enjoy it for exactly what it is.

Thank you for reading,

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

Let's Be Honest

I've had so much emptiness for so long, it shouldn't hurt anymore.

I wrote that in my journal yesterday. You see, I've been described as honest. Honest to a fault. But that's not the truth. Because if I was so honest, honest to a fault, I would lash out when my heart feels broken, with my true feelings of sadness instead of with words meant to destroy and inflict pain. I wouldn't jab with my sharpened tongue to make sure you feel more pain than I can bear alone. I would tell someone my feelings are hurt instead abusing them with words meant to hurt because I feel weak with vulnerability. I would tell people I need them instead of barking that I can walk this world alone. I would say that I feel empty inside because I'm the one that scooped everything out that made me feel raw and threw it away. I would say I'm lonely because I'm so sure that you are going to leave, that the concept of you sticking around forever, is one I can't compute because in my mind nothing lasts forever therefore let me sabotage so I can prove how honest my brain is with me and a heart is for the weak and vulnerable.

I have spent so much of life trying not to feel anything, that I'm responsible for the most damage. I have to accept the most blame. I have to point the finger at myself every day in the mirror. I'm hell bent on not feeling, that I can't admit I feel too much and I don't know how to process it. That I'm the one with feelings of inadequacies therefore you are inadequate. You see, I'm not honest with anyone, including myself, because I lie every single day about how I really feel.

If I'm to be honest, to a fault, I feel sad. I feel guilt. I feel remorse. I feel lost. I feel alone. That I feel exhausted being acquainted with myself. I'm the one I'm so angry with. I wonder if I had been this honest person I claim to be and had told someone how much I needed them, and loved them and appreciated them if we'd still be together? And if not, would I at least only have to deal with the hurt instead of the regret and guilt of things said that can never be unsaid? Would I still have a few of the friends I use to have? Would my family have had to forgive me less times than they've had to? 

I am trying so hard to be a better person. Like John tells me, be a better person today than you were yesterday. So I'm starting with truly being honest. I do want someone to grow old with. I do want to be loved. I do get lonely. I do need friends. I do long for acceptance, especially from myself. I am afraid of dying with more regrets than amazing memories. My feelings do get hurt.

 I love to write. I love poetry and art. I love to game. I love laughing with my buddies in the evening while we're gaming until I can't breathe. I love coffee with my mom. I love trips to Wichita to see my kiddos/little man. I love deep conversations on the porch with John and Ape. I love that Alex calls me to vent or for advice. I love that someone trusted me enough to help them through a rough night. I love the time I had with someone and all the good memories we had while we were together.

You see, I need to learn that just because things don't work out the way I wanted, doesn't mean I can't love the things that did during that time. I can be honest that every day isn't filled with rainbows and unicorns but some days are and they are truly magical. Some days are filled with tears but the ones that are filled with laughter recharge my soul. It's easy to go through a rough patch and convince yourself that everything always has been and always will be complete and utter shit but that's not the truth. My good days, my great days, far surpass my bad ones. It's ok to be honest with myself about that as well.

So my goal is to truly be that honest guy. Honest to a fault. To not only tell those around me that I love them and need them but to learn to love and need myself as well. There are some things that are never going to be and that's ok. There are some things I'm never going to be able to take back or unsay and though that was not ok for me to do some of the things I've done, I can work on never doing those things again. I can learn to forgive myself, ask for forgiveness, ask for help, be vulnerable, be a good friend, be a good partner if there's one in my future, be a good dad, son, brother. 

Last of all, I can be good to myself. That's not going to be easy. I'm going to fail from time to time. But that's ok too because I'm just trying to be a better person today than I was yesterday.

Thank you for letting me be honest with you.

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

Between You and I

Do it says the voice

While arguing with common sense

I'm tired of giving piggyback rides

To the fake and unattached

The whispering, faceless ones

That didn't have my best

Interests at heart

But truly try their hardest

Smile mother fucker

So they don't know

Make them laugh

Just so I remember

What an honest one

Sounds like

You wait until you is home

Before you shows up

Did you know

I want to die sometimes

Or do you even care?

Too concerned with whispering

In my ear about death

To realize

Maybe I want

To live

You make it hard

To differentiate

Between what's real

And what's really real

Because sometimes 

I don't know anymore

And that's what

You've always wanted

Separate

Tear

Blend

Lie

Sustain

Kill

Breathe

Continue

Try as you might

To tear this skin open

Somehow I'm quicker

With the stitches

But the

Real question

Is

For how long?

Who will be

The winner

And who is

The real

Loser

I know your heart

Isn't in the right

Place

Win at all costs

Is beginning

To be

Your motto

Instead of mine

With the stakes

Being nothing more

Than my life

My life 

Is nothing more

To you than

A bounty

One to be added

To a list

Maybe someone will

Mourn

You've never cared

What I've thought

You've kept it all

Between you and me

Never caring

About the damage

As long as

You're heard

Remember when

You told me

To kill myself?

I think just

For fun

Because I'm 

Only

A game

I'm not sure

I know how 

To accept advice

From anyone

But you

Anymore

It's time

     The

          End

This poem is about arguing with a voice only I can hear. The back and forth. The endless games being played by one of me against me. It's exhausting and hopefully I was able to transfer that to this piece.

Thank you for reading.

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

A Thank You to Blue October

 This blog has been a long time in the making. I have to admit I've avoided it because it makes me emotional and thinking about the past can be painful. Thinking of all the horrible things I've done, said and thought, when being honest with myself, can be defeating but it doesn't have to be. I have been put here for a reason and I may not always know that reason but I intend to make the most of it.

The song that slapped me in the face all those years ago was, of course, Hate Me. I'm in the middle of raging alcoholism, a marriage I'm taking for granted and kids that are probably traumatized and embarrassed of their dad that's a hard-working drunk. "The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again" damn I said that so many times.  I was really good at broken promises. I think that song spoke to me so profoundly because I wanted, needed, everyone to hate me because that was something I understood. God I hated myself. So "Hate me today. Hate me tomorrow. Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you. Hate me in ways, yeah, ways hard to swallow. Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you" I had a new addiction and that was Blue October.

Now I have to admit, after listening to song after song, I was wondering if it's possible to copyright my brain because I swore Justin was listening to my thoughts and writing songs about them. That is how close I related with his music. I felt like he was singing my story. He knew my pain, my fears-my sadness. He understood what it's like to laugh on the outside while screaming on the inside. To appear full of life while wishing I was dead. I had searched in all the wrong places for answers and I swore they were at the bottom of a bottle so I was determined to drink until I found the one with all of the solutions. I'm not saying it doesn't exist but I say the same thing about unicorns as well.

I remember many drunken nights, listening to Blue October, feeling his pain while trying to figure out how to end mine. I wanted it all to go away. I wanted to die. I had done the testing of water type things-cutting, self-harm, completely reckless behavior hoping that would do it but I had never really really attempted suicide. Until I did. I remember being at such peace with it. It was like being in a fog as I drove to the grocery store and bought all the sleeping pills they had. Next stop was the liquor store. I remember spinning the top off of a whisky bottle with one hand while swallowing pills with the other. As I wrote the note that never would've been good enough to explain why I did what I did, I remember them kicking in and I cried. Not because I regretted my decision but because I had finally found the strength to go thru with it. I woke up puking. And I was angrier than I ever have been in my life. I was so bad of a screw-up I couldn't even kill myself.

I've told an extremely limited amount of people about that night. A verse in Black Orchid "Maybe life isn't for everyone" was what I really believed. I believed I was put here by mistake and I was going to fix it. I hear "how selfish" and "how could they do that to us" amongst many many other exclamations against something they can't possibly understand. At that point, I felt the most unselfish thing I could do for those I loved was no longer be here. I felt the only way I could make the pain go away was to die. The only forgiveness there was for my countless sins was to go away so I could ensure, in the only way I felt was possible, never to hurt anyone ever again. 

Why am I telling my story in this way? It's a simple answer really. Stigma. I have fought for not being embarrassed of who I am and that includes the bad parts of Ryan. I'm a ball of bipolar, mental illness, hurts, regrets, anger, guilt and countless other things that luckily include-a hell of a sense of humor, laughter, great friends and family just to name a limited few of all the good parts and things I have. It saddens me that we lose men and women to suicide multiple times a day. Please talk to someone if you are to that point. Please ask for help. 

I think of all the things I would've missed out on. I think of all the things those I love would've missed out on. Saturday morning coffee with my mom. Being a grandpa. Being a dad. Being a brother. Being a brother-in-law. My point in all of this is that moment in time seems insurmountable. Seems impossible. Seems the only answer to a lifetime of questions. It isn't. It really really isn't. I promise you it isn't. 

Call someone. Call anyone. Call the Suicide Hotline (988) I'm begging you. I think back to that night multiple times a week. I think about the ones I know that succeeded and I watch their loved ones left in a constant questioning of where they went wrong. What could they possibly have done to change the outcome. I can only tell you my perspective but I'm thankful I didn't succeed. I am thankful I finally started talking about it. You are not alone. By calling 988 you'll find out just how not alone you really are. I promise.

Now go and listen to "Fear" by Blue October. 

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar.

Ryan M Sullivan

Middle of the Night

 I've been awake half the night because my brain decided we needed to cover my past 45 years of existence and iron out everywhere I've gone wrong in life. It's a shit job but someone has to do it.

I have to admit that I've really started obsessing with my age lately. I'm almost 46 years old and i can't stop thinking that realistically I'm closer to death than not. That there's a good chance that over half my lifespan is gone. That leaves me looking at my past and wondering if it was a life well-spent and how much of it was wasted. I'm not meaning to be weird but I have to type these thoughts out in hope that I can process them instead of obsess upon them.

Past relationships are a constant thought bouncing around in this head of mine and what a waste of life they've been. I think it's because they're a constant reminder of failure. I can fix things with my hands, run a 30 million dollar plant seven days a week, make decisions for the betterment of those around me but I can't do any of that when it comes to my own love and happiness. I can't fix the "forever" part. I can't fix the part of me that seems to make them change their mind. I can troubleshoot problems and come up with answers anywhere else but relationships. I don't accept all of the blame but I'm not doing myself any favors if i refuse to accept any of it either. All I see is a 45 year old man that has spent his life in one waste of time after another and it bothers me. I give up. 

I spend a tremendous amount of time alone and I think it has become an obsession. It's where I find my peace but I also wonder if when my day comes, I'll have any regrets of not having done more. Will I look back and be content with the fact that solitude made me happy enough so good enough? I'm so driven to forget the present by disappearing into the magical world of a video game or some imaginary far off land in a book that I'm left wondering if I missed out on something that could've been a memory that would make me smile at times like this.

It scares me to think how fast 45 years has gone by so how fast will the rest of my life go by? I spent a lot of my adulthood as an alcoholic and the wonderful byproduct of that is I have a lot of memory gaps and I struggle with timelines. So all the years I spent drinking to forget, well, mission accomplished. I think of times and events I missed with my kids that I can never get back.

I've spent so much of my life shutting things out and striving for self-preservation that I've boxed myself in with four walls for company. I know this is rambling and all over the place but I have to get it out. I have to put it on paper so it's made real and has a consistency of something I can see instead of just think. Because I have to be honest that I spend time wondering what has been the point of my life? Was I put here as an example to others as a road map of how to do things wrong so they do it right?

I'm struggling but I'm not giving up. I think we all dive into that dark cloud of the past. I just get stuck there from time to time and it's a fight to get back out. I know I've had amazing things in my life and had many accomplishments but I can't help but think how things could've been different or envy those around me that found their actual "forever". I feel like the givens in life forever evade me while the constants forever haunt me. 

Being bipolar has been a curse I've finally come to terms with but the side effects are exhausting. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I was "normal". Normal means you get the prize. Normal means you get the girl. Normal means you sleep at night. Normal means you don't obsess over every little detail in every little thing. Normal means you don't laugh while crying on the inside. Normal means you don't want to rip out the other personalities fighting for the light every minute of the day inside your head. So when I hear "yeah but what's the definition of normal anyway?" I have a lot of answers to that question.

I needed to get this out of my head and I did. I won't apologize for the mess I made on paper but I will think you for listening to what I had to say. You all have no idea how much you've helped me over the years and I'm forever grateful. I'd better head to the plant I was talking about so I can find my disturbing comfort I seem to get from work. Thank you again.

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

Being Manic is Ok, Right?

 I got a couple of hours of sleep and then bounced out of bed with a ton of energy and a million ideas. I know I'm going manic because I've been here a thousand times and it's been trying to take control the past couple of days. All the signs are there and I don't ignore them anymore. Instead, I thought I would use this as an opportunity to let you in on what I experience. Maybe it will help someone along the way.

The first sign for me is my speech. I can't talk fast enough. I have so many ideas and thoughts whirling thru my head like a tornado of incoherency and lucidity fighting for control that i need to get it out as fast as I can before I forget everything I wanted to say. It's hard to sit idle during conversations because I just want to talk. And talk. And talk. You don't need to because I have it under control.

Next comes impulse control. That ranges from saying things nobody should ever say in private let alone public. It kind of ties in with the whole speech thing. It becomes a thought straight to verbal before my brain can yell "Nope. Don't say that. Ever." The really dangerous thing about lack of impulse control is spending money. I want to buy everything my heart has ever desired and then everything it has never desired. I start looking at the dumbest shit on Amazon. You never know when you'll need an office sized L shaped computer and writing desk in the living room of your apartment even though you already own a perfectly fine writing desk. But isn't L shaped and it wont take up your entire living room so is it really that fine? I can only wear one watch band at a time but owning 15 is better. 6 TB of storage for the PS5 is amazing but so is a 12. I need a different soap for every day of the month so i always smell fresh with matching underarm deodorant. My buddy just bought a desktop gaming PC and I know I just got a really nice gaming laptop a few weeks ago but it would look better sitting next to a desktop. Because I can only use one at a time doesn't figure into the equation. Luckily, I have bought none of these but they're sitting in my 'save for later' in my Amazon account. We'll get to that in a minute.

Irritability and grandiose ideas. I love being manic because of all these brilliant ideas I have (can't you tell so far?) and when I'm hyper-focused on something I find important it irritates me that you don't find it as important. When I vocalize the grandest idea in human existence, I struggle with the fact that you are too lucid to understand the importance of what I'm saying. Why must you speak common sense to the amazing Ryan Sullivan when I've just told you I am going to be a best selling author that's never written a book? No I have not ever directed a movie but mine will be a blockbuster so why do you keep asking stupid questions? I love my job so I should quit. I just asked that question 3.2 seconds ago but you haven't answered yet so screw you. I think you get the idea.

The good thing about dealing with bipolar for the past 30 years give or take is I've become pretty self-aware. I watch for my own red flags. The warning signs. So when I say I put all that stuff in my 'save for later' list on Amazon it's because I have taught myself that putting it there is just as satisfying as actually purchasing them. Plus it's a good laugh when I come off my mania to look at all the crazy stuff I put in there. I have learned to listen to myself talk and at what speed so I know mania is a coming. I gauge my irritability against would that irritate anyone or just Manic Ryan. I have spent many times broke as a joke because of mania. I have embarrassed myself with the claims of fame during mania. I have hurt feelings and destroyed relationships because of mania.

Mania is always described as almost euphoric and trust me it can be. But that only applies to me and I forget that sometimes. So when my level isn't matched I actually wonder what your problem is while you're wondering what the hell my problem is. Luckily those close to me have learned this is as much a part of me as my beard was until I had to shave it off because I wasn't patient enough to wait for Joe to make it look amazing as always. I really am fortunate. Not everyone is.

So what I'm saying is I'm not asking for a free pass to act however I want but maybe a little slack here and there isn't too much to ask. On the flip side, holding me accountable with kindness is a must because I refuse to use my bipolar as an excuse to not be a good person. So I'm going to fake shop, not start my best selling novel while not directing a blockbuster and have speed conversations with myself until it's time to go to work. I know this about myself. I'm proud of myself for knowing this about myself and for fighting like hell with Manic Ryan to not destroy everything he's worked hard to obtain. So I'll wait patiently to take my meds, shower and go to work because I've been blessed with another day-bipolar and all.

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

I'm Useless But Not For Long

 Clint Eastwood by the Gorillaz popped up on my playlist while at work and the chorus really made reflect for a minute or twelve. It goes like this: I ain't happy, I'm feelin glad. I got sunshine in a bag. I'm useless but not for long the future is comin' on. I really listened to this song I've heard a thousand times and I thought if that doesn't nail the essence of bipolar, then I don't know what does.

The biggest battle I face with my bipolar is the ups and downs. Sometimes within a short period of time. I can be fighting mad and then snap out of it and go "No big deal". I can be sad, deeply, with a what's the point attitude and then start thinking about how things will get better. I can say never while doing the thing I said never to. Saying I'm not going to do something but make plans to do it while also saying I'll do something but make plans not to do it. My family, friends and exes absolutely love this about me. I'm kidding. They hate it. A lot. I don't blame this but what they always forgot was I do too. I hate that my brain shorts out and I can promise I hate it more than they ever could.

The thing with bipolar is, I not only have to worry about what I'm doing and saying. I have to worry about what others are saying and doing. That whole don't worry about what others think only goes so far and applies only to people we don't love or care about. You see, a lot of the times while I'm short-circuiting, I'm in the back of my head saying STOP!! DON'T SAY THAT!! DON'T DO THAT!! I'm not the best person but I do not take joy in being mean or impossible to people I love. Not that I enjoy it otherwise but you know what I'm saying. The problem is I can't always stop everything I do or say but I can sure regret it later.

I have said horrible things to my mom, brother, soulmate, exes, friends. I am very fortunate to have the family that I do because they have never turned their back on me when I can't say the same about them. My brain has made up things that never happened but I could pass a lie detector saying they have. They patiently waited for me to come to terms with the fact they wouldn't lie to me and never made me feel stupid for what happened. I've said mean things to all of them but I'm proud to say the majority are still along for the ride on this bipolar roller coaster of a ride.

The things I have said and done keep me up at night. I've noticed a difference since being back on my meds but I know I'll still get manic which I love and get depressed which I hate. I know I'll try to convince myself I'm cured again. I promised Stacy when we were dating I wouldn't get off of them and I did. I consider her my soulmate and still I quit my meds. I've told mom never again. I've done it again. My point is I always have the best of intentions. I also know what the road to hell is paved with. If I could apologize 1000 times to make it better then I'd apologize 10,000 times to put things back the way they were before I messed up. I can only look forward but I seem to trip while looking over my shoulder. I'm still working on that.

So there's still times I ain't happy but I'm feeling glad. I'll have that sunshine in a bag. I'll feel useless but not for long-the future is coming on.

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

Million and One Times Is the Charm

​I know you all will find this incredibly hard to believe but I got off my meds again. For quite awhile. Because I am the walking definition of insanity and I swear each time the results will be different. They weren’t in case you were wondering. 

This round was a mixture of reasons and chaos but the end result was the same. I work a lot of hours at my job plus I’m on call half of the month so I get nothing resembling regular hours or sleep. I went thru a relationship ending. I can try to act manly and say it didn’t bother me but it did. I believed the whole soulmate forever BS and I have nobody to blame but myself but that doesn’t take away the hurt. Words are cheap but can cut like a knife. So I really became a recluse. Nobody is going to ever hurt me again and if I’m by myself are my meds really that important?

The thing I didn’t take into account is I can shut everyone out and lock the door but I can’t escape myself. I can’t leave my bipolar on the outside of that locked door. Let me tell you, I can be horrible company to myself sometimes. I enjoy setting up a screen and playing home movies of my thoughts. I can tell myself I’ve already seen this and it sucks so I don’t really want to relive it but I remind myself that’s the only way I’ll learn is to obsess on it and break it down, decipher every word and action so that I won’t make the same mistake again. Relive the pain so I can embrace it and become numb to it. Relive the anger so I can perfect it. Remember being taken advantage of, used, overworked, unappreciated so that it will eventually roll off of me. On the flip side, if I replay all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, all the hurt I’ve inflicted over the years, if I punish myself enough then maybe I will atone for my sins. 

I can tell you all of that hasn’t become productive. Sitting in the past watching rerun after rerun hasn’t changed the outcome. It has led to lost time of doing things I enjoy. It has left me going to bed feeling lost and waking up to wondering what the point of being alive is. Why was I put here? To be an example of what nobody should ever be? It’s hard to write these things but that’s what it took for me to take action. When I’m writing things like this in my journal, I knew, no matter how much I don’t want it to be true, that I absolutely can not do this on my own. That’s what I really struggle with at the end of the day. I can’t do this on my own. I have to swallow pills to make all the bad parts of bipolar go away.

I had to admit to myself I am a hypocrite. I say this because the first thing I tell someone else that tells me about their struggles is there is not a damn thing wrong with taking your medication. That it takes a stronger person to admit they need help no matter the form, whether it’s meds, therapy or both. So who am I to not follow my own words of advice? 

So for the millionth and first time I have started my medication again. I’m back on lithium. I’m taking Abilify. I had an honest conversation with my doctor yesterday and will be seeing a psychiatrist again. I’m actively looking for a local therapist. Because I came to myself with my struggles and told myself there is not a damn thing wrong with taking my medication. That it takes a stronger person to admit I need help. 

I’m not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

Rantings of A Sucker

​It's 2 something in the morning and I've been

writing/journaling while listening to music and I heard

these lyrics- The thought is unimaginable, that I saw you

for the last time and didn't know. You were the one that I

wasn't suppose to lose…lyrics sung by Three Days

Grace in the song Lifetime. As you know by know, music

is a conduit for all of my emotions. Music is my voice

when I don't have one. Even when I'm minding my own

business like this morning as I was writing away listening

to metal and then life threw this emotional curveball my

way, I suppose, because I was enjoying myself too much.

Now I know I've beat this poor horse to death, buried it,

dug it back up just to beat it again. well, I've given you

a pretty descriptive image as to what I'm getting at but I

can't help it. When I can't get rid of it, I must write about

it.

I struggle when it comes to things I can't comprehend

Things that don't follow logic. I find myself analyzing

the situation over and over and over trying to make it fit

in this box or that category or at the minimum, make

sense. The word forever. The word soulmate. The words I

love you. The only logical conclusion I've come to is the

word bullshit. You can fit that word in all kinds of boxes,

categories, bags and sacks by the truckload. That word

makes sense to me.

Now again, I'm the first person to tell you I'm not

perfect, but I am very honest about my imperfections.

Right out of the gate. I spell out all the things I struggle

with from time to time. How my brain decides to short

out and do its own thing from time to time. By admitting

all these things doesn't mean I'm justifying my actions

when they occur by any means. I hold myself

accountable. And that's what frustrates me because where

is everyone else's accountability?

I know I'm an easy target for being the bad guy. Trust

me, I know. The bad thing about being brutally honest

about myself is that it can be used as a weapon by others.

It can be used as a defense in the court of life. Nothing

easier than using someone's own words against them.

suppose a normal person would quit learning to be so

honest because I've learned that about most people as

well but I can't. I take pride in it. Stupid, huh?

With all of this being said, the one question that

constantly remains is- why am I the only one required to

change? Why must I accept the other person for exactly

who they are or else I'm an asshole but here's a list of

things I need to change and if I could get on that

immediately it would be greatly appreciated? If you

don't, well, I'm going to need that forever back. I guess

we're not soulmates after all. I don't love you anymore.

I've had this with friendships as well. Be who we want

you to be and everything will be fine but you must allow

us to be whatever the hell we want to be, say whatever

we want to say and do whatever we want to do. If you

don't like it, we are allowed to say that's just the way we

are but the way you are sucks so please change that.

Thank you.

This is by no means a pity party because it has taught me

a lot about people. I don't have to understand why things

are the way there are to gain knowledge in the fact that I

don't have to accept why things are the way they are. I've

learned I'm fine having fewer friends. I've learned I'm

fine not having a significant other. I've learned enjoying

my own company far outweighs being around people for

the sake of being around other people. I enjoy being

around my family and a couple of other people and that's

good enough. If I don't have to leave my apartment

outside of going to work or being with said family then I

consider that a win. I don't like people anymore.

Part of me despises the way I analyze and look at some

things in black and white. It would be easier to follow the

herd. To be a faceless person constantly morphing into

what others want me to be. The other part of me is proud

for being true to who I am. For being honest. That I only

have the one face and don't feel the need to carry masks

around with me.

I've learned that honesty will get you nowhere in this

game of life. I've learned that in friendships, relationships

and work. You're a sucker waiting to be taken advantage

of if you have that quality. I've been thrown under many

proverbial busses but I take pride I haven't let it change

the fact that I'm still that sucker in life refusing to shed

that quality. It's easier to avoid those busses being alone

behind a locked door.

I’m not bipolar-I have bipolar 

Ryan M Sullivan 

Am I Alone or Just Lonely?

​I’ve thought about this quite a few times…am I alone or just lonely? There’s a big difference and here’s what I’ve come up with and I think we’ve all been here at one point or another in our life and if not, then I am envious of your luck. 

I think it is easy to fall into the trap of ‘I’m all alone’. I know I’ve said it before. Or I feel so alone. But if I’m to be honest with myself I’m not. I know I’m not because of that word ‘feel’ before it. I’m feeling feelings that I don’t like to feel so I escalate it to the extreme because now I can try to view it as an absolute instead of an emotion. Bear with me, I’ll try to make sense. 

I know I’m not alone because at any given time I can drive to my mom’s house for a cup of coffee or at the very minimum talk to her on the phone. I can call my kiddos, my brother, Maria, nieces and the couple of people I consider close friends. My point is, that’s not called alone. I am fortunate that I have a very loving and understanding family surrounding me. I am fortunate to have a couple of very dear friends. I am the furthest thing from alone. But you know what I am?

I’m lonely. And not just any kind of lonely if I want to be honest. I’m lonely for the kind of things I see other’s have. Example: I was gone for a conference for three days and I miss that feeling of someone being excited for me to be back. Someone missing my presence for three days. I think my PS5 and Xbox missed me or maybe it was the other way around but that good old fashioned feeling of being wanted, needed, missed. There’s nothing wrong with being single and it’s better than being in a relationship where you still feel lonely but deep down, no matter how much I deny it, I want someone on an emotional level. I want that thing that I see everyone else is lucky enough to have. And the lack of that thing is called loneliness. But I’m not alone. 

I have no idea if I’m making any sense whatsoever and if you’re going what the hell is this guy talking about that’s ok. Because this is my therapy session I’m holding for myself, reminding myself,  that there’s a huge difference between being alone and feeling lonely. 

I have a habit of my brain processing feelings as the end all be all. As extremes. And while I’m being honest, as pity parties. I start turning sometimes into always. I start using the word never. I start feeling sorry for myself because I’m all alone. No I’m not. I feel lonely and that's a valid feeling but feelings are yucky so let’s use a different word. 

So at the end of the day, I can take comfort in the fact that no matter how lonely I feel at times I am still NEVER alone. That’s a powerful thing my friends. Do I want someone special in my life that thinks I’m someone special in their life? I’d be a liar if I said anything but yes. Will it happen? I mean have you seen this sexy beard and dad bod thing I have going on? Who knows but I do have the guarantee of never ever being alone. And that’s priceless. 

I’m not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M. Sullivan 

It’s All Lies

I spend about 99% of my personal time alone these days and it affords me a lot of time to think and reflect. I’ve come to the realization that most of life and what I personally have learned of mental illness is all lies. Don’t worry, I’ll clarify. 

We’ve been taught that life is at its fullest when we’re surrounded by friends and have that one special person by our side that we can spend our life with. But the lessons I’ve learned from those teachings are that everyone cares about their own happiness and as long as you conform to whatever makes them happy 100% of the time then you are worthy, your friendship is cherished and you’ll be loved to the moon and back forever and a day. Now let that not be the case, their eternal 100% happiness, then you are belittled, not given a second thought and dragged to the curb like yesterday’s trash. And heaven help you if you stand up for yourself and say you don’t want to be treated like the way they say they don’t want to be treated either. Oops I made the mistake of being concerned about my own well-being. I need to think about what I’ve done and probably apologize as well. 

If I sound bitter then you’re reading this right because I am. I don’t understand people anymore. I don’t want to try to understand people anymore. There’s no give and take, no working on anything anymore, no meaning to words or promises or integrity or honesty. It’s all about instant gratification. It’s about being a friend only if they get what they want. I know what you’ve been saying you want in a friendship Ryan but that’s your problem. Your wishes will be discarded because, well, we don’t care. 

Relationships are no different. It’s I’ll tell you what you want to hear if it means I get what I want. Then when I don’t need that from you anymore, no big deal, I’ll throw you away and go get it from someone else. But while we’re together, all my past traumas are valid, I have every right to make you pay for them and you’d better be 100% supportive of my needs and wants. I deserve to do whatever I want because I haven’t been able to for the last x amount of years. I know that’s thru choices of my own but I still need you to bear that cross Ryan because, well, no one else will. I need you to be perfect at all times because if you aren’t then I’m leaving. So it looks like I’ll be leaving, sorry about the whole forever part not working out…byeeeee. 

So here comes the mental illness part. I’ve had it shoved down my throat that medication is what’s best for ME. RYAN will feel better if I’M medicated. Bullshit. I’m better for those around me if I’m medicated. I don’t speak my feelings as much when I’m medicated. I don’t get angry at legitimate things that would make anyone angry if I’m medicated. I don’t stick up for myself as much if I’m medicated. So once again I’m to do what’s best for others. I have constantly said I hate my meds but that never matters because it’s always followed up with the whole that’s what’s best for you Ryan. Is it though? Is it honestly what’s best for me or is it what’s best for you?

The way I look at it, I’ve pretty much cut everyone out of my life at this point besides family and maybe a couple of people so nobody really has to worry about their rules for me anymore. Or their expectations. They can all pretty much continue worrying about themselves. I know this isn’t all upbeat and positive but I don’t care. Neither is the reality of life. Blame it on my meds if that makes you feel better. I have learned that if I have nobody in my life then nobody can hurt me. There’s a look at my reality, and honestly, I am perfectly fine with it. I no more owe an explanation for my choices for my life than the next person. When I hear someone give their opinion or have a legitimate reason to be upset, never once have I walked up to them and said ‘Hey are you supposed to be on medication, and if so, are you taking them?’ 

So take this post with a grain of salt. Maybe you can relate and maybe you can’t. This is genuinely how I feel about everything right now and putting it into words is what helps me. This is my therapy. Because that’s what I need to feel better and what I need is now my priority. 

I’m not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan

Mind Full (Poetry)

Mind full

I write

And

More

Takes it’s 

Place

Knee bouncing

Brain

Throbbing 

Downplay

The

Amount of

Feelings

I’m fine

Can’t seem

To make

The

Reality of

The situation 

Disappear

No matter

How many 

Versions of

The story

I play

I

Convince

You

But somebody 

Please

Convince me

Let me

Obsess

Over this

As

Well

Pretty

Please

Why

Is the

Question that’s 

My

Constant

Hold my

Sanity

While

I display

The insanity

Of

The

Situation

Why did

I live

Why did

Others

Die 

How could

I have

Done 

Things

Differently 

Why am

I

Asking

Angry

So

I should

Punish you

For the

Crimes

I’ve committed

So I 

Have one

More

Notch 

Of

Guilt

If I obsess

Then I can

Change

The past

Bleed it

Out onto

Paper

So

That

Time

Ceases

Along with

My crimes

Instead

Stuck

Doomed to

Relive

Over and over

So that

The cuts

Never 

Scab

Leaving

The

Past

To bleed

I love

The way

You hate

Me

I scream

At the

Man in

The mirror

As he

Looks

Back

With

Approval

Glass

Shatters

So I

Know

Which

Me

Is real

Confused

On which

Side

I

Was

Standing

I still

See me

In the

Fragments 

Realizing

I’ll always

Be both 

That bipolar

Means two

Ryan’s 

A hand

Constantly on

The other’s throat

Who is 

The winner

With the

Loser

Easier to

Crown

Switching

Places

Daily

With the

Hour hand

Always ready

To strike

Straight jacket 

Can’t be

Seen

But still

Binds

Just as

Tight

Banging

Head

Hoping

To bleed

It all

Away

Medicine 

Maintains

But doesn’t 

Fix

No cure

They say

Heartfelt 

Sympathy 

Goes a

Long way

To a 

Place

Called nowhere 

Anger 

Steams

From pores

With no

Resolution 

Which

In

Turn

Causes

Anger

The 

Dreaded 

Constant

Endless

Cycle

Swallow

Glass

So I

Answer

With kindness

Slam pills

Before

Mind

Is changed

Steps

In baby

Form in

The right direction

I draw 

My

Paintings

Of pain

With

Words

Broad

Strokes

To

Cover

Every

Inch

Of canvas

Hoping for

Change

Skin

Silent

With brain

Tagging along

Striving

For what

I

Interpret 

Normal

To

Be

So I’ll 

Sit

Watching

Skin

Ripple

While pills

Hit

Bottom

Hoping

Needing

That today

Is that

Day

Hear Me Fall

​I read a response to a post the other day that has stuck with me. ‘Nobody hears a tree grow but everyone hears it when it falls’. Damn. I mean, well, damn.

It was like being throat punched because I was left speechless with a flood  of emotions and memories. More like a tidal wave. Such a powerful and emotional statement in so few of words. 

I got to thinking of my life. Of stupid things I’ve done. Mistakes I’ve made. And I thought of how many times when I fell, those are still the sounds people hear. How many drunk stories are still intoxicating for people to bring up? How the sound of handcuffs are like an ax to wood. Mental hospitals. Suicide attempts. Bipolar. Medication. Anger. Depression. Tears. Yelling. Silence. 

I haven’t always done the right thing in my life. I’ve made some horrible decisions. I hear that wood cracking around me on a daily basis from cuts past. Memories that won’t go away no matter how hard I try. Memories that keep me awake at night and no amount of tears or guilt or anger will ever make them go away. But you know what I don’t hear? My roots growing deeper and stronger because of them. 

I can’t hear my growth from all these experiences called life because the sounds of the past are so loud but that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. It means not everything needs to be immediately understood. It means that instant gratification will only be a disappointment if that’s what I’m after. It means I also need to pay attention to those growing around me. 

You see, it’s easy for me to want and expect and desire and accuse. But do I do the same for those around me in return? Am I yelling ‘Watch me grow!!!’ while holding the ax of mockery and judgement against someone else’s trunk? Absolutely I have. I do. Sometimes I’m sharpening it during the conversation. I can do better. 

The thing with trees is we judge them for what we can see. What’s above ground. The important thing is what we can’t see. The roots. Just because I feel like I’m not growing upwards doesn’t mean that maybe the growth I’m needing at that moment is a firm base. Something to build upon so that when it is upward it’s based on something solid. This goes for everyone. I no more can judge the height of their tree without knowing what I can’t see. I need to do better. 

Has everyone heard me fall? Absolutely. Thank god my roots were deep enough to stand me back up. Instead of listening for the cracks in everyone maybe I need to listen to their silence. Because that’s the sound of growth. And maybe I’ll get the same in return. 

Im not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan M Sullivan 

It’s Not the End of the World

Sometimes or a lot of times things don’t work out in life the way I want them to. The thing about that is, at the time, I think I’ll never get over this or it’s the end of the world. How will I live without so and so in my life or I can’t take this at work anymore or fill in the blank. I’m learning I just need to breathe. 

I say I’m learning I just need to breathe because if I focus on the fact that I’m breathing then I can focus on the fact that it is not the end of the world and I will actually get over this. That one day from now will be less horrible than it was yesterday hopefully. That one week from that will be easier yet. One month. Six months. Eventually I will look back at this end all be all and realize it was temporary even though at the time it felt like a forever. 

Now I can wish things were different but as my dad used to say ‘Wish in one hand and’ well I think you get it. But all the wishing in the world won’t help me realize that I’m missing out on today’s positives if I’m focused on yesterdays problems. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m one that loves to obsess on everything and replay it a million times over while beating myself up for things I can’t change but I’m trying to make a valiant effort at change. 

I’ve learned that part of that change means letting people go not out of spite but out of respect. My wishes don’t supersede their wishes. My wishes don’t mean that I can say what I need to say so I feel

better. Same with work. It’s called work for a reason. It’s not called going to fun. Oh I have to go to pure bliss today. It’s called work. There will be good days and there will be bad days. The goal is to have more good than bad and not focus on only the bad. 

I have dug myself a hole of late that I’ve struggled to climb out of and part of that is my bipolar but some of it is my mindset as well. I can’t dwell on things I can’t change or have no control over except my reactions to them and I can grab a shovel and keep digging that hole deeper or I can figure out a way to get out of this damn hole. I’ve dug a lot of holes in my life and I’ve managed to climb out of every single one of them so I know I can do the same again this time. 

Life will never go the way I try to tell it to all of the time and I need to learn that’s ok because it has proven to me over and over again that what I think is earth shattering today ends up being a memory down the road we call life. A memory that has become a life lesson instead of a devastating end of the road. 

So as Blue October put it best:

I hope you’re happy

I hope you’re good

I hope you get what you wish for

And you’re well understood

 I’m not bipolar-I have bipolar

 Ryan M Sullivan 

The Biggest Lie Ever Told

Based off my title I’ll get right to the point. I believe the biggest lie ever told is that there’s someone for everybody. There’s a soulmate just waiting for you out there. To me, that’s the equivalent of a participation ribbon at field day. It’s a feel good statement. Something that someone says to their single friend so they don’t feel bad about themselves. 

Now don’t get the wrong idea because this isn’t a pity party blog. I’m not on my knees in the middle of a rainstorm screaming at the heavens ‘why god why’ dramatically like some crappy Hallmark movie. I’m merely trying to understand how some people are able to find that one person that sticks with them thru thick and thin while others seem destined to walk this earth alone. I think about this a lot. 

On a personal level,I haven’t had a relationship last longer than 4 years and that was my marriage. The rest have been a lot less than that. Now to be brutally honest, I use to be a raging alcoholic and I have since realized that’s not something women are eagerly searching for on the old resume of relationships and I’m bipolar to boot. I’m not saying bipolar people are not worthy of love but I am saying alcoholic ones can be challenging to love. Unmedicated raging alcoholic ones slightly by a lot could possibly be more challenging. 

I grew up with perfect examples of soulmates with my grandparents and my own parents, my brother and Maria so I’m not comparing that term to, let’s say, unicorns or leprechauns but they do seem to hang out in the same places. So again I wonder what separates those from me? I know I’m not the easiest person in the world sometimes but neither was my dad or mom or grandpa or my brother…you get my point. They still have someone that had stuck by their side. 

I’m know it’s a good thing that I’ve moved on from some of my relationships but I feel I had a couple over all these years that I thought was the real deal. I believed it when they said I love you. I believed myself when i said it back. But I sit here single, writing this blog, analyzing why I’m single sitting here writing this blog. I am comfortable being single. I’m comfortable being alone. But I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t want that special someone that complimented me as a person. 

So maybe it’s me? Maybe at the end of the day I need to look in the mirror and keep evaluating my actions and expectations and see if they’re unreasonable. Maybe I’m demanding unicorns and leprechauns when I should be more realistic and look for a human that will make mistakes but on the other hand allow me to make mine as well. That is a very real possibility. I will accept blame where blame is due. I don’t have a problem being honest and critical with myself. Maybe too much so but I’d rather be that way than trying to live up to the fantasy of perfection. That’s the unicorn’s name by the way. 

So anyway, if I’m meant to walk the rest of my days alone in the sense as remaining single then alone I will walk but that means that there’s someone for everyone remains as the biggest lie ever told. I’ll be hanging out with Perfection if anyone needs me. 

I’m not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan Sullivan

Who Am I

Who am I 

Do I even

Know anymore

I laugh

Wondering

If that’s 

Really my laugh

Or if I’ve 

Faked it so

Long

That

Maybe I

Dont have one

Maybe I

Laugh

To hide

The sadness

Like a secret

Locked away

Scared of

The knowledge 

Behind it

Look away

So you dont

See the tears

Trapped behind eyes

Closed doors

Ona

Darkened room

Trapped

With my truth

With my thoughts 

With myself 

Ive never

Hated a person

So much

I say

Out loud

To the mirror

I repeat

The lies

Ive been told

Ive believed 

Only causing

The resentment 

In myself to grow

Easier to stay

In this darkened 

Room with

The truths 

Of

Myself

Walk over

And lock

The door

Dont open it

Lose the key

Wipe the sweat

As I put

Brick after brick

Instead of 

Drying

Tear

After

Tear

Looking in

The darkest

Of corners

Where

I had to have

Lost myself

My soul

Has no light

To shine

No angel

To serve

As guardian 

Anymore

I see

An outline

Of me

Shell

Of an

Outside

With nothing

On the

Inside

Broken

Tired

Lost 

Empty

One foot

Behind the

Other

Losing progress

Every step

Of the

Way

Cursed

Trapped

With my past

Stuck in

A loop

Of reverse

Smile

It’ll get

Better

Is a smile

Still a smile

If it dies

At your lips

It’s so

Easy 

So maybe

You can carry

This burden

For me

Take the

Weight of

Carrying two

Polars

Take the

Noise of

More than one

Voice in my

Ear

Maybe you

Can battle

If what I see

Is actually real

Time to put

That smile on

Finish zipping

Up

The skin

Of what I’m 

Suppose to

Be

While covering

The uncomfortable 

Truth

Of who i

Actually am

I Don’t Need You Anymore

This is going to be very direct and to the point and to be honest, I should’ve done this years ago. 

I am tired of trying to be what everyone but myself wants me to be. I’m tired of stipulations and rules and compliance always being the clause behind friendships, girlfriends, family- everyone. I’m tired of love being held back like dog treats unless I sit, stay and roll over. 

Example number one. I’ll love my meds I’ll hate my meds. I’ll take my meds I’ll go off my meds. I understand in your world this is a huge inconvenience for you and cause for debate, your unsolicited debate, but I don’t care. I don’t give a shit. You know why? Because my bipolar isn’t about you. I struggle with it everyday, not you. You may struggle with the affects it has on me or the biproduct of but you have no clue what the actual struggle of bipolar is so until you do the last thing I’ll accept from you is your judgement. Don’t like it, don’t stick around. It’s pretty simple in my world. If this sounds selfish it’s because it is. I should’ve been more selfish a long time ago. 

Example two. I have struggled off and on for as long as I can remember with alcohol. I have never claimed I’ll be perfect. That I won’t fall off the wagon. I feel I’ve done amazing for awhile now but that might change today and then tomorrow could be better. That’s my world and I’ve learned to roll with the punches. I have a few beers from time to time. I’ll continue to have a few beers from time to time. Your opinion on the matter is exactly that, an opinion, and believe it or not I don’t have to agree with said opinion. You don’t have to agree with my opinion on the matter but I am no longer open to discussing it. Don’t like that, not my problem. 

There’s plenty of other examples but I think you’re getting my point. This blog is long overdue. I have lived the last 44 years trying so hard to make everyone around me happy that I forgot to ask myself if I was happy. Well I’m not but I will be. Because I am now making this about me. I deserve to be happy.  I’m done being told I’m a piece of shit. I’m done being told I’m a shitty dad because I refuse to be mentally and verbally assaulted for mistakes made in the past. I’m human and I’m far from perfect but I’m done paying for my sins. I’m done conforming and molding and fitting into boxes made by others and trying to be what everyone else wants me to be at the cost of my sanity. At the cost of my happiness. No wonder I don’t know who I am anymore because I literally don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve been too busy being what everyone else wanted me to be. That bullshit stops here. 

If this blog offends you then maybe you’re part of my problem. You can excuse yourself from the table. I choose happiness despite your feelings on the matter. Despite what makes you uncomfortable or disappointed or uneasy or any other descriptors I’ve heard over the years. That is your problem, not mine. I may spend the rest of my life by myself sitting in my apartment and that will be worlds better than constantly shifting to what makes everyone happy but myself. I choose happiness and I choose me. If you choose not to be a part of that I am perfectly fine with that. My happiness isn’t based off of how many people I can call friends.

 So I am done with one-sided friendships, one-sided relationships and trying to be what you need me to be to be happy at the expense of my own happiness. I am at the brink of losing my sanity and I refuse to do all this shit any longer. So if you want to be my friend or more and my happiness is just as important as yours then hi my name is Ryan. If not, I’m perfectly fine with remaining strangers and you can keep on walking. I’m done. I’m over it and I refuse to budge. It’s time to be happy again. Period. 

I’m not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan Sullivan

There Is No Forever

I’m struggling 

I want

To scream

While I laugh

Out loud

Invisible tears

Flow

While I put on

My smile 

Got to let

Everyone

Know

Everything is ok

Feelings go

Unheard

With no one 

To listen

My mind

Battles

Hours upon hours

With no outcome

No resolve

No solution 

Keep it to

Yourself

Don't be a bother 

My opinion differs

From yours

So I’m not privy

To your world

Anymore

If only I mold

Myself into

Everything

Everyone

Wants me to

Be then maybe

I’ll completely 

Lose who I am

If only I wasn’t me

Then maybe I’d be

Something

Worthy compared

To valuable 

I’d be worth

Your time

Envious of those

You hold dear

To remember

That feeling 

Of being

Important

How long

Until

I finally

Break

Maybe that’s 

What you’re 

After

Leave me

Beaten

Broken

In pieces

Before you

Move on

Overthink

While you

Give it no

Thought at all

What was

Left of me

To give

Is

Now

Gone

Maybe never

To be found

I fell

For the

Promises

Of forever

When I should

Know

Forever doesn’t 

Exist

They are

As empty

As the 

Words 

Spoken

I got

Stuck holding

The bag

Filled with

The years

Of sins

Committed

By another

Yet still

Expected

To atone

For them

So busy

Proving

You can do

What you

Want

That you forgot

I wasn’t 

The one

Who had

Been holding

You down

All those

Years

Stuck

On making

Up for

Lost time

Going after

Some lost

Youth

Chasing some

Freedom

All of which

Had been locked

But I was never

Holding the key

But I sit

At home

Bearing the

Punishment

Of the sins

I did not 

Commit

So you can

Shove it in

The face

Of the one

Who isn’t 

Paying attention

I can’t beg

Anymore and

Not for some

Resemblance

Of pride

Because I no

Longer know

What that looks

Like but

Because I’m 

Tired

Exhausted

A shell

A shell 

Of a person

That loved you

That said

Forever

Forever and

A day

To the moon

And back

Without knowing

Forever isn’t 

Very long and

The moon a short trip

And so

I will

Walk one way

While you

Run the other

I walk 

Not ready

To leave you behind

While you

Run

Never a

Second thought I’m 

Already a distant past

The Darkness In the Light

Sometimes on the brightest days all I can see is the dark. I open the fridge and nothing looks good. I turn on the TV and can't decide on what to watch. I get to the front door just to put my keys back down. Turn on one of my gaming systems just to shut it off before the game even loads. Four walls are the only decision I can make. 

Have you ever laughed and wondered if that's actually your real laugh or if you've faked it so long that you don't think you even have a real laugh anymore? Maybe conversations are just something that you're suppose to have so you've learned over time the right social cues to react to to say the right thing? More like you're an actor than a real person in life. Maybe. Not even sure about that most times it seems. Not sure about most things anymore. 

I spend more and more time with myself than anyone else. I think I've become antisocial for self-preservation. I can't handle things anymore like I use to like ignorance and the mundane. The senseless conversations along with the complaining without conscious effort to make change. So in comes the self-preservation part. I have a notorious problem with keeping my thoughts to myself. With evaluating everything said, seperating the legit from the bullshit and then speaking my mind. I've learned a lot of people don't dig that. The thing is, I do that to myself constantly and treat myself worse than anyone else ever could so I guess I don't take feelings into account. Just the grating fingernails on the chalkboard feeling I get listening to it. 

I know I sound like an ass and hell I probably am. I just don't know how to function in day to day situations anymore I guess. If there's a problem, fix it. Pretty simple in my world. Maybe I'm losing my empathy but to empathize with someone you have to be able to relate in some way and I guess I just don't anymore. 

So these are just a small glimpse of things that trouble me. A lot. I feel like I can't be myself around people because I have nothing in common with most people anymore. I try to self-reflect constantly. I try to be a better person than I was yesterday. I try not to be cynical but as you can see that's still a work in progress. Perfection is unattainable sadly but sitting around in your own crap complaining that it smells like crap hasn't solved any problems that I'm aware of either. If you've made it this far into the blog just know that this is my opinion on everything. Despite the world around me, I will always hold onto my right to have one. Good thing is, you have the right not to agree with it. 

With this all being said or vomitted or rambled or however you want to label it, I do battle myself with the problem of wanting to become a complete recluse every single day. There's comfort in silence. In enjoying your own company. But at what cost? Regrets that hit later in life? Not being able to choose to be alone because that's the only choice I have? Where I work, I have the entire plant to myself all night long for 12 hours and it's absolutely amazing. I'm going to have to train the new guys the routines for night shift and you know what troubles me the most? It's not that I don't know what I'm doing or how to train... it's the anxiety of being stuck with someone for 12 hours that's going to want to have conversations and be social. Changing my routine to fit theirs. Dammit. 

I know I'm tired so my rose colored glasses have become clear but I find life exhausting and there's something therapeutic about closing the door to the outside world. My goal is to make sure there's still a door there instead of only four walls. To make sure that door still opens to those I love because one day I may open it only to find four more walls. 

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar

Ryan Sullivan