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

The Never-ending Night

When the sun goes down, the demons come to play. I haven't written in awhile because I've had a lot going on in reality and in my head. I try to process both realms before I put words on a page for everyone to read so that I can be nice, coherent and rational. I'm not sure I've ever been accused of being all three at the same time but one must have goals, right?

This week has been stressful, cold, miserable-a ton of negative words that describes how I've felt. I can't get my mind to shut the f up. I can't process some things and that's unacceptable. I've felt like a failure. I've relived my past and analyzed everywhere I went wrong that's led to where I am now. I'm experiencing my personal hell while others sleep the sleep of no remorse or conscience.

It's even seeped into my dreams. Makes me dread sleep. They're so real that it takes me awhile to snap out of it and then I don't want to go back to sleep for fear of what the next dream entails. I'd rather have one dream to obsess over than multiple. I took my Zyprexa last night like I'm supposed to when I can't shut it down and get stable sleep. I slept for 3 hours. I swore I could hear someone walking around in my house and after a thorough check, my rational side lecturing me the whole time, my unrational side came to the conclusion that they're probably hiding in the attic so I blocked the door leading to it because in the attic they'll now stay.

So now that I got that picture of insanity painted on the canvas of your brain we can continue. I've really come to enjoy my own company. If that sounds conceited it's supposed to because who else can give me all these conversations I have with myself and the walls? Who can stand up to a bar set so high? Why should I have idle conversations when I can intelligently tell myself where things went wrong with no possible way to change that moment in time so therefore the solution to the problem is deal with it. Oh I don't understand others actions? Well by all means obsess over it for hours until you come up with a solution of jack shit. Then I can go back to the actions and choices of the picture of perfection I call my past and live experiences over and over while playing the extremely fun game of what if I had done this instead of that and take the game on step further called analyzation and branch that out to possible outcomes that are impossible to achieve while my brain refuses to quit playing the game because like in Monopoly I must have all the pieces on the board before I can say I've won and the game is over. That has to be one of the longest sentences I've ever written in my life. Nothing like a rant sentence to win that achievement. Gold star is going on my fridge for the day and it's barely after 5am.

So to say the least, I'm struggling this week. Maybe longer but who's keeping track? My brain, come on people, work with me here. Luckily I have therapy this morning. Probably a good thing. Poor Joey has no idea what she's in for. Or maybe she does. She is blessed with my presence every Friday after all.

I'm not bipolar-I have bipolar
R. M. Sully