In my dark times….

In my dark times I’ll be going back to the street
Promising everything I do not mean
In my dark times, baby this is all I could be
Don’t think my mother could love me for me
In my dark times, in my dark times

I promise you… that in my dark times, only my mother can love me.

I have entered another dark time.

More new meds.
More crazy spinning in my head.
More pushing people away.

Oh for the love of mental health!

It’s been a long time since I’ve been here to write.

Ya know how it’s gets. How “you – me – I” go to that place and crawl around… in the dark times. And then ya come out for a breath of fresh air and realize … “oh holy shit, it’s October!” Yeah. Me too.. that’s exactly what has happened here with me. Except I’m still in the midst of it all.

I think that’s what happens if you are lucky enough to grow older with a diagnosis… I think you learn to recognize that it’s all happening… and once in a while you are lucky enough to hold on and reach out to reality. Or just let go of the fucked-upness of it all and breath.

I celebrated my 49th birthday this year and my 30th year of diagnosis. 30 years of meds… and doctors not knowing exactly how to treat these ever loving dark times!

Ah, but they do come and they do go! God bless them – the dark times and the doctors, and meds, the crazy head spinning and the pushing more and more people away. Yes they come… and yes they go.

It’s all a funny little circus.

This ain’t the right time for you to fall in love with me
Baby I’m just being honest
And I know my lies could not make you believe
We’re running in circles that’s why

Dear Manic Pixie Dream Girl Stock Character

OMG! Hmmmm. Manic Pixie Dream Girl, I am.

Sincerely, Chelsea

Dear Manic Pixie Dream Girl Stock Character,

We need to talk.

You have a problem, and it’s a rather serious one.

For years, I was blind to your issues.  In fact, I have dedicated a large chunk of my life to attempting to be just like you.  Not just like Kirsten Dunst in Elizabethtown or just like Natalie Portman in Garden State, but just like you, the ultimate combination of all of the characters who fall in your spectrum.  I wanted to be the girl who appreciated life more than the people around her did, who relished nature, who approached difficult and awkward circumstances with Reckless Abandon.  I wanted to be the girl who lived carpe diem rather than just spewing it forth like the cliche that it is, who danced in parking lots, in the rain, in the woods, in the middle of walking her dogs just…

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The Borderline Personality Burrito

He told me that he would stay except he can’t trust me. Not me… me being sick. The lies I tell when I’m in a fog. The times I’m down and can’t climb out quickly enough to put the happiness back on my face. The potential of hell that is there. He can’t take the potential. That’s what he can’t deal with… the what if… the possibility of when it “could” all fall apart… the other shoe falling…. the embarrassment it could cause.

It took him all summer to play with my head… told me he loved me.. missed me… couldn’t move on without me… it took him all summer… to play with a sick girl’s mind. Someone he professed to love for a very long time. Someone he knew he needed to be careful with… and in the end… he was just vicious.

Therapy Man tells me that it’s the only way he could walk away – Angry and mean. I told Therapy Man that it just wasn’t him. He was never like that. Therapy Man told me… yes, that is exactly who he has always been.

This isn’t the first or the last time someone isn’t going to stay because I’m sick. Most of the summer I did my own thing. I have actually been broken up with him since January, but was seeing him off and on throughout the summer. I have such horrible abandonment issues that completely letting go of him seemed impossible. Completely letting go of anything in my life seems like an impossible task.

I have so much to say and can’t really figure out how to say much of it. Letting go… moving on with someone and being sick at the same time… knowing that they won’t or might not be able to deal with it??? Why bother because the pain is just too much.

I don’t know. Hearing him finally say that… and, maybe that wasn’t really his reason. God, I have trust issues mixed in all of the other bullshit in my life. Fuck!

Just…. fuck!

Therapy Man told me that if it weren’t for the men my life I wouldn’t need his services. And, I know he’s right… in a sense. If it weren’t for BPD… I wouldn’t need him. It is a painful disease. So much wrapped up inside of it… Layers and layers of pain.

I have no emotion meter… it’s either Bitch or Sweetheart. No in between…. It’s hard to have a relationship with myself let a lone with anyone else. But it’s so lonely if I don’t. And… being alone leads to other things that are unhealthy. so Jesus. What do you do?

I don’t know. I just don’t know. Just survive the pain and move I guess. Smile a little everyday? I suppose.

Fall down seven…Stand up eight!

Stood up….
Turned around….
and
Sat back down again and here I was…

and here I am.

And that has been my summer.

I set out to really just figure my shit out. I figured I’m 49 – maybe I should do that? I created enough mess with all these guys that surely there was something else. I thought… I’ll just go out this summer and “have fun”. Well, I did. … I think.

And….. in the end…. Nothing impressive.

I had fun. I am tired. I have nothing exciting to show for it… except two very cool tattoos… 🙂 No, I was not drunk – I don’t drink.

I think I did determine that I’m not a nuts as I thought I was (I was completely sane when I got the tattoos – they have meaning – of course). I also determined that there are a whole lot of people out there that are crazier than I am! And, I’m not entirely sure that many of them are aware of it. And… I totally mean that with a loving and caring heart.

I didn’t cry much this summer. Which is a first. At times, I was very lonely… but it wasn’t so bad. I was busy doing God knows what so I didn’t have time to wallow in it. And, maybe I wasn’t sad and that’s why I didn’t cry. So… lonely doesn’t always equal sad? And maybe it wasn’t lonely… um… no, it was lonely. I don’t know.

I did change meds a few times and worked myself right out of that suicidal issue I was having – Thank God. That sucked ass! Sorry, but there is no other way to put that.

Hmmmm… I don’t know. School starts again Tuesday. I will have a new bunch of teenagers. Who does this to themselves?

In the end… I don’t feel any stronger than I did when I started the summer. Wait… maybe I do. I should. I did some good things for myself boundary-wise. I’m learning. I don’t think we ever stop learning. I don’t want to ever stop. I don’t want to ever stop growing up.

I don’t think there are any rules about that specifically? Thank God for that. I’ll just keep standin’ up! I’m gonna be that old woman in those movies with those hoochie shorts on and that bad hair dye job in those bars…. haha…

No… well, maybe… No! I fucking hope not. 🙂

Oh… good to be back.

This song’s for you!!!

[Note: I talk about emotional pain and not really knowing what to do with it. I whine ALOT. I am new to the struggle with suicide. Please understand that as you read this. If you continue. If you do not I understand please have a safe day.]

Funny thing about abandonment… at least the way it works in my life. I cause it.

I push and push until no one can stand to be around me and then I wonder what the fuck happened… where the fuck did everyone go?

I’m fairly confident that it didn’t start this way. But trying to figure it out is useless in moving forward today.

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It doesn’t matter. The boys evacuated themselves from my life for good. They told me they cannot put up with my Bipolar VooDoo any longer.

The point is that they aren’t coming back and it’s a very good thing because I never had the control to turn them away when they were coming back. Neither of them are pillars of society anyway…

Now I need to find myself. As cliche as that sounds it’s as honest as I can be.

I don’t know how to do this. I have been in groups and can talk the talk. (when I wasn’t stuck on the merry-go-round with the demons and angels in my head) Those rides aren’t always horrible. Sometimes they are fun and that’s why I would and still do get lost in them. I have searched books and the internet. I’ve gone through therapists and drugs. FYI: I’ll stay on the medicine and continue with Therapy man.

But I am lost and so scared. The pain is so deep that I’ve actually just recently, after almost 30 years of dealing with this disease, turned to suicide as a means to escape it. Fortunately I haven’t succeeded.

I come to this place for release. I leave this place… WordPress… and I come back… and leave. I have some that I can’t get away from and others I can’t read at all because they trigger so much pain. Everyone is written in such a special way  – that is why I follow them. There is a little piece of wonderful in each of you that keeps me going. I’ve been in so much pain that leaving comments has been too hard.

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There is this scene in the first of the Divergent series where Tris has to make a decision…  in one of the early scenes she has to jump. She doesn’t know what she’s jumping into. She just has to leap. And so she does… she jumps into nothingness… No doubt scared as hell!

You guys here… are my “nothingness”. I don’t know you at all. I put my words out here for you. I trust you with them. They are intimate. They are scary. They are things I would not tell just anyone. You are what I jump into every time. I don’t know you. But, I jump. I leave my words. And then I go. You are my only Ok.

I believe in God. But he in NOT my Ok. I’m not sure I will ever reconcile with him. But I have to figure out how to move on with my life. How to find out who I really am. And I do that by talking through it. Most of the conversations I try to have with God end up very bad. So I come here instead. It’s just easier. I know that I can leave it here… Let Go and Let You…

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Staying away from people who make me feel I am hard to love is what this is all about. It’s the core of abandonment for me. I think I have established and re-established that this disease sucks. The paranoia for me is one of the worst. I don’t believe anyone really loves me – most of all myself. I’m hard to love. So I stay away from myself? I stay away from everyone? Actually, I give people a try until I sense they don’t or can’t or won’t love me? And then I fuck it up – consciously or not… I fuck it up.

It doesn’t matter though.

I was telling my sister that I hurt so badly. The emotional pain is like I’m peeling my skin… Good news is that in a way I can feel the new skin underneath coming through. But, yeah… it’s that pain. And, it’s deep. So deep.

In past posts I have talked about the new path that comes out of breakdowns. That we don’t get better. We just start over….

I have to really figure it out this time. LOL. Don’t we always say that? I know I have. I just keep going around and around the hamster wheel and it’s wearing me out. I’m so tired. I think that’s what is getting to me this time. Really breaking me down. Really getting to my head and telling me that there is just no reason to keeping going on.

It will just happen again.

The emotional pain. I suppose I shouldn’t come here and say these things because it might trigger someone. But this is what I come here to do. NOT TRIGGER PEOPLE.. But to write.

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Breathing sounds beautiful… wish it were that simple. Actually it is. It really is that simple. I know it is. I need to slow down and make it that simple. I know what I need for myself. I just wish I would let myself do it.

So I start out.. again.. the path. I have wondered if maybe I couldn’t just start my own book? Write my own book. But, I feel like I would be disrespecting the true writers out there who actually have talent and should be writing books for those of us in need.

I don’t know….

This is me… Thank you for being my “OK”, friends. Thank you for keeping me coming back here. For reminding me that it isn’t as bad as I think it is. For reminding me that I am strong enough to get through it. That I can make it to tomorrow 🙂 This song is for all of you!!!

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I was standing on the edge
I’d long for a new beginning
But I couldn’t look down, but I couldn’t look down
I’m a coward

A million voices screamed in my head
And I felt sure that I would give in
So why couldn’t I now? Why couldn’t I now?
Your voice was louder

By design God gave me feelings
And by design they shall not kill
But when the noises overwhelm me
I feel sure that they will

Oh, liberation, comes in whatever form to save me
I am burdened, and then the whisper comes
You whisper in the breeze
Whispers that I’m needing
Quiet words, soothe the hurt, whisperer

And though I struggle through the days now
It helps to know that you are listening
So I just wait it out
I’ll wait this out, by the hour

By design God gave me feelings
And by design they shall not kill
But when the noises overwhelm me
I feel sure that they will

Oh, liberation, comes in whatever form to save me
I am burdened, and then the whisper comes
You whisper in the breeze
Whispers that I’m needing
Quiet words, soothe the hurt, whisperer

I don’t know how to write about this.

I don’t want to write about this but I am. And, if you have issues with suicide you might not want to read it. I don’t know how to talk about it so it is going to be extremely awkward. I don’t have any intentions of being inconsiderate or selfish or presumptuous. I’m writing about what has happened to me in the last several days and how I’m feeling. I’m just letting you know that it might be hard for some of you.

I have always felt a great amount of gratitude for one thing in my illness and that has been that I have never been suicidal. In a fucked up way, I suppose I’ve taken great satisfaction in knowing that it’s something I didn’t have to deal with.

Until 4 days ago when my life almost stopped.

I would like to blame it on new medicine.

It wasn’t that.

I would like to blame it on the jackasses in my life.

It’s not them either.

Truth is… I’m just depressed.

Really! Fucking! Depressed!

Never have I actually thought that I could end my life until Monday. I have never paid too close attention to suicide and the struggle that goes through someone’s mind. I have been grateful for that. Frankly it just scares the shit out of me to think about it. It hasn’t ever been my struggle. I do, however, have great sorrow for those who do have or have had to deal with it. But, for me, I have never had the capacity in my brain to go there and so I haven’t.

That was until Monday.

Monday, my life and illness changed.

Now, suicide is a part of me.

Now it scares me even more.

Now I have to deal with the reality of it.

Now it eats at my confidence.

Now it is one of my demons.

It bites at my heels every morning when I wake.

I started the New Medicine dance a week ago last Tuesday. I woke up on Saturday knowing something wasn’t right. I was the King of the World one minute, but couldn’t leave my house the next. Still, while I knew I’d just started medicine I thought the uncomfortable feeling must have been the new meds.

Sunday I had a tournament, got some disturbing news from my Ex and had it out with him. He’s my ex for a reason. And, it’s true. That wasn’t it though. It was just one more confrontation that I didn’t need. Just another smack in the face. Another wake up call reminding me that I need to step out and find other people to surround myself with and that means opening myself up to new people…

 But 4 days ago I was on my way out.

No one was coming in.

New people could fuck me up even more…

I couldn’t handle this pain now.

I could inflict plenty of my own.

I didn’t need anyone doing it for me.

That’s where I got stuck.

And, that’s all I could keep hearing myself say.

I am capable of hurting myself …. why do I keep letting others in to do it for me?

Monday I opened my eyes to an entirely new feeling. I realized that the nonstop shrill of fear in my heart…  the crazy unexplainable pain in my heart… It wasn’t anxiety. It was DOOM. My brain was telling me that I know longer had a damn thing to offer anyone and at the very same moment it told me that that was complete bullshit! 2 nanoseconds later I didn’t even care about any of it… I just wanted to die! There was a feeling inside of me that danced and fluttered in and around my heart. Picking at my soul so quick that it felt like I was being hurled off a cliff with no bottom… falling and falling and falling…

Over and over…

I cared. I didn’t. I cared. I didn’t.

I was enough. I wasn’t. I was. I wasn’t.

No stopping. No breathing.

Just picking at my soul.

Over and Over…

I kept seeing my Mom and Dad!

I could see them watch me destroy myself

Over and Over

I didn’t want to put them through it anymore!

I was suspended in this place that didn’t make sense anymore!

I was surrounded in this pain!

I was crying and I was screaming!

I didn’t know who to even tell about it!

It didn’t even make sense to tell anyone!

That was what horrified me the most!

I didn’t even want to tell anyone!

Nothing mattered!

Nothing made sense!

I was just sooo done!

Monday I did things that I’m not proud of… To people who didn’t deserve it. Saying I’m sorry CANNOT repair the damage I did. Not a chance. There is no going back. No starting over. What people saw. What they heard. How they felt… They can never unsee. They can never unhear. They can never unfeel.

I cannot continue to blame my illness for hurting people. It’s true that chances are very good that if I hadn’t been sick I wouldn’t have behaved the way I did. I wouldn’t have made the choices I did that day. But, it doesn’t matter. The damage is done to myself and to a lot of people that I love. I cannot imagine what it would look like right now if I had succeeded.

This is the selfish part I referred to earlier… I have to continue to live feeling the physical and emotional pain that I do right now… I have to continue to make choices feeling this way. I fight with God every breath and every step I take. It’s not a pretty fight at all. But, I am taking the steps. I am stringing moments together with the SAME people standing behind me that I hurt and I am having to be incredibly humble in accepting their help in these moments. Looking into their eyes is crazy, CRAZY hard! I want to quit and crawl under a rock somewhere every second. But I can’t.

With that said…

I’m not sure what stopped me on Monday.

I’m not sure what is stopping me right now. 

I’m not sure what stops anyone. 

I’m still scared to pieces.

I still don’t have the capacity in my brain for this.

I still feel deep sorrow for people who are or have gone through this….

I want to quit every second and every breath I take.

I’m fairly certain I am just too afraid to… 

It seems to be enough right now.

And… I think I might just owe to some people…

Thank you…


Suicide sometimes proceeds from cowardice, but not always; for cowardice sometimes prevents it; since as many live because they are afraid to die, as die because they are afraid to live.

Charles Caleb Colton