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

Behind Closed Doors (poetry)

I look

At the

Door 

Closed

And

Comforting 

Nothing

Good

On the

Other side

Pain

Hurt

Lies

I

Turn around

Sit back

Down

Take a

Deep breath

I’m safe

Alone

With myself

Which can

Be

Too much

Company

Alone

Is better

I 

Repeat 

To myself

Remembering 

The past

Helping

To

Comfort

My

Line of

Thinking

If

I can’t 

Be reached

I can’t 

Be hurt

If

There’s no

Conversations 

There’s 

No lies

As I 

Lock 

The door 

Solitude 

Is comforting 

Addicting

A drug

I

Refuse

To give

Up

Letting

It

Consume

All of

Me

I’ve spent

My life

Apologizing

For things

I can’t 

Take back

While

Taking

Blame that

Other’s 

Refuse

To 

Own

I walk

Room to

Room

In the

Company

Of

Memories past

Ghosts that

Hold my

Hand

Reminding me

They’re always 

There

Echoes

Of words

That were

Once

Comforting 

Now

Break down

My 

Sanity

Trust

Heart

Mind

Existence 

My light

Has been

Dimmed

My outer

Shell

Solidified 

With pain

Armor 

I

Display

Like

A

Medal

When

Every

Battle

Is a

Loss

The courage

To

Keep 

Fighting

Diminishes

And begins the

Defense of

Shutting 

Down

As I walk

Room to room

Whispering

Never again

Feeling the

Stone 

Around

My heart

Taking over

Knowing if

I keep it

On repeat

I’ll believe it

Never again

Will I

Be hurt with

I love you

Never again

Will forever

Penetrate

My armor 

My only

Soulmate 

Are the

Ghosts

Holding my

Hand

As I walk

I find

Comfort

In their

Whispered

Truths

Ears straining

To hear

Every word

Heart stacking

Every stone

Mind 

Accepting

Come

Hold my

Hand

And tell

Me more

Reassured

By the

Fact you’ve

Proven you’ll 

Always be

There

By

My

Side

Lie in bed

With me

And 

Whisper

Everything 

You’ve always

Told me

I won’t 

Argue

Your truths

I won’t tell

You

It could be different

Keep me

Company 

You are

My constant

Always

Have been

No

Matter

How many

Time I called

You liar

And said

I too can

Be loved

Shower me

With your

Gifts

Of

Reality

I welcome

You with

Open arms

Thanking

You

For never leaving

Me

So I turn

The second lock

On the

Door

Knowing

You’ll protect

Me

From the

Real lies

Keep me

Safe

Fortify my

Armor

Love me

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