So I’ve realized that there is no such thing as curses and the universe responds to our thinking just the way that people do. If the expression you teach people how to treat you is correct, then it also must apply to life itself, or the group conscious, or God if that being exists. I ruminate upon sins of the past and will not forgive myself for the extreme actions that I’ve displayed. Why can’t I at least remind myself that I do have an illness and that it takes over more often than I’d like to admit. I guess I don’t want to rely on that as an excuse.

I often think that I should just be on my own. That somehow that will protect my son from any serious mood swings. I’ve been having a lot, minor ones, but regularly since my breakdown two months ago. I feel so fragile. It’s been two months. People don’t know how close I was to ending it though. I had the bottle of wine open, the handful of pills in my hand and was contemplating writing a suicide note on my iPad. You see, no one had called… I left everything, lights on in the house, doors and windows open, dumped my son at his dads. And nobody was alerted. Nobody called. I don’t know what stopped me. Maybe my Guardian Angel. I didn’t feel anything special though, anything sacred. And the surprising part is that it was not the thought of my son that stayed my hand. It’s always been him.  I guess that’s how I know it was serious. But the funny thing is, I didn’t want the maid to find me dead. I felt for the young woman who would have to find me. Go fucking figure.

Yes, I want my son to be protected from this. He is tense and closes in on himself when he see’s that I am tired. When mom is overly tired she gets angry. Please mom and be quiet when she’s tired and has that look on her face… I’m actually considering Botox to relax the scowl lines that must appear when I’m over-extended. I don’t want people to be afraid of me and they are. I can even sense it in my mom. Certainly in the dog, she doesn’t want to be anywhere near me now. There was a period of time when I thought the dog and I were restoring our relationship, but now it’s right back to where it was before.

What have I become? All of these New Age books say that you can change your life in an instant. The PhD’s say it will take time to retrain your brain from old existing patterns. Either way, since I’ve been working on it, myself that is, I haven’t had much success if those around me are walking on eggshells. I’m not sure what I am at this point in my life. Maybe I have to adopt the destiny theory. Maybe we all just exist and no matter what we do, well, it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. None of us want to accept that though. Why would anyone want to feel like they were not in control of their own life? I’m starting to accept it. It’s like giving up. Let go and let God right? Except my giving up feels more and more like suicide. It seems like it would be such a relief to check out. People say it’s selfish.

I’ve been thinking of drawing again and maybe even painting. I feel like getting these disturbing images out of my mind. I want to go big. Full sheets at least. I stopped being an artist because I felt like something, or someone, was taking over my body and mind. Talk about disturbing. Fucking hell. It was like possession, and I was highly praised for it. But now that I am alone, and can be considerably alone at certain times, I want it to be disturbing. I want to get it out of me. I am afraid of opening Pandora’s Box though. What if it makes things worse… And what if people see it as greatness? What then? It may just add to the confusion and trigger more episodes with my bipolar.

See, this is all of the fucking crap that goes along with it. With bipolar disorder. One minute I want to end my existence and the next I think of creating works of art again. And I know what will happen if anyone sees them. People will be impressed. They will see it as greatness. They will encourage me, which is exactly what I don’t want. I ran from it before. Now I feel like it’s the only way for me to survive this darkness inside. A way to keep me alive. The light and the dark the light and the dark the light and the dark…