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 

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

A Tale of Lies and Broken Promises

If I yell out

Until I lose

My voice

If I can’t speak

Of it

Does that mean

The pain

Is

Gone

Will the

Anger

Follow 

Suit

Put blame

Where it

Belongs

I wear it

Like a

Medal

Because 

A con

Can’t

Run their 

Game without

A

Participant 

I saw you

For what

You

Really are

Instead of

The mirage

You present

But once

The dust

Fell from my

Heart I focused 

On the beating

Blindly

Common sense

Raged a

Losing battle

Knowing the

Consequences 

Of actions

Doomed to

Watch from

Afar

Until the

Final strap

Broke from the

Mask you wear

You have

Taught me

Love

To the 

Point

That if

That’s what

Love

Is

I hope

Nobody ever

Tells me

They love me again

You told

Me

I was different

I am

But it was

You that needed

To be different

Instead of

Changing scenery

While

Staying

The same

Wear that

Sheeps

Clothing

Tailored 

To a 

Perfect

Fit

While walking

Amongst

Your victims

Without

A 

Conscience 

I wanted 

So badly

To

Believe 

That somebody 

Could love me

I turned 

A

Blind

Eye

To

Everything 

Else

Red flags

Used 

As

Decorations

Lies

Told

To

Fill the

Silence

With 

Noise

I’m to

Blame

I know

The games

I’m not

Naïve 

Wishing for

Something 

While

Knowing the

Truth

Doesn’t 

Make

Me

An

Innocent 

So add me

To the list

Of people

That made

You a

Victim

And I’ll 

Add you

To the

List of

People I 

Wish I 

Never knew

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