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