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My Cheater Wounded Me Permanently

Have you ever awoke from your sleep with eyes full of tears, the sadness enveloping every ounce of your being? For your sake I hope not.

Today was another one of those mornings. These episodes don’t happen often, when they do it is debilitating. I am NOT nor will I EVER be good enough for him.

The past two years I have spent nearly everyday watching what I put into my body. I want to be the body he prefers. I’ve lost nearly 100 pounds because his reason was she was little and I wasn’t. Ouch! Those words play in my head every single moment of my life.

My husband is still hurt that his ex wife cheated on him once in a fourteen year old marriage. Yet he has a difficult time fathoming that I could be hurt by twenty years of him cheating on me with his ex. Admitting that if I had not found out he would of continued to do so.

My psychiatrist says rule of thumb is if you stay you can’t bring it up anymore. I call it throwing darts. That is a game I am very good at. I can go months without mentioning it, my dreams were real and current this morning as if it had just happened.

I can’t afford to lose anymore weight without becoming sickly looking. Unfortunately, that is what he is attracted to. What about porn? Am I the only one that feels it is a form of cheating? I have lost count of how many times I have caught him in lies concerning porn. Am I wrong hat it makes me feel inadequate?

I stayed. He is my best friend the reason. Would a best friend kiss you goodbye and kiss you hello with the same lips that were just on her, and a little less cash in his pocketbook? Eighteen years he did this to me. No FRIEND would ever do this. Today I am full of hatred and distant I will be. I pray tonight’s dreams are of the love I once had for me.

Jill L Ware

Blog

Bite Me Bi-Polar!

It is not often I have the urge to drive my car into a tree at a high rate of speed. Yesterday there it was out of nowhere. That is how this works, this being these nasty mood disorders That have been plaguing me all of my adult life.

I try so hard to keep my monster hidden, yesterday was an epic fail. I really should name my monster within truthfully though I don’t want to be on a first name basis with her, my beast.

She doesn’t play nice so I’m thankful she doesn’t stay long these days. She says just long enough to show her ass and leave me looking absolutely idiotic. Not like I need extra help in that department. I do find enough job without her help.

I spent the last six months taking in nature and Photographing the Beauty I see. My avoiding being in society since Covid appeared isn’t because my fear of getting sick. I hide from fear of confrontation from all the people that have decided they can talk to you any hateful way they please. You know how true those words are, don’t you?

PEOPLE SUCK! I’m trying real hard not to be one.

Blog

Call Your Psychiatrist

Everyone smiles for the camera

I know the importance of routine mental health appointments throughout the year. It did not occur to me the entire six weeks I laid in bed my depression and anxiety in full swing.

I assumed it had only been a few months since my last mental health visit. In fact it had been six months.

This week I had a visit with my long time psychiatrist. He reminded me that if I am struggling in between visits that I can call for a visit.

It’s amazing the insight and advice from someone outside my usual sounding boards. Where am I going with this? If you are sad, anxious, depressed or having a hard time functioning in this crazy world we live in. Seeking help can make a huge difference. Tell someone else your crap can really lighten your load.

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Contentment

I sit here in this apartment thinking to myself, “These walls are closing in on me.”. I feel the urge to organize and clean. ” How can I arrange the furniture to open it up more?” I ask myself.

I can feel it happening. The old habit of always having to find faults in circumstances and relationships. Yes, I am medicated and doing the best I can to change my thoughts. Knowing I have bipolar and BPD helps me to watch my behaviors and reactions to others behaviors. I have gotten so much better. Progress no matter how small is still progress.

It’s embarrassing to tell people I moved again, change cars or switch things I collect or hobbies. With my BPD I always feel the need to change things up. Luckily I have a husband and family I can discuss my thoughts with and not be judged by them. I refrain from telling acquaintances certain things for fear of being judged. Not that it would happen. It is all the self doubt and me.

Most the time just telling someone my thoughts and bouncing them off of them they can give me ideas or advice. I get a new perspective on things. I focus on certain things and miss other things going on around me. I’m missing others dealing with their stuff. It’s not all about me! It’s not all about me!

Blog

Marijuana Use For My Mental Illness

I do have a state issued medical card for this!

A couple of years ago I started smoking marijuana to help with some of my mood disorders. I believe it helps with my Mania and my sleep. I have to adjust how much I smoke when I am going to be in a social situation. Ocassionally I get a bit paranoid if the smoke is to strong.

My phsychiatrist would rather I don’t smoke. But it does things for me that my five mental meds cannot.

What I am wondering is if you could leave comments about your experience with marijuana and mental illness.

Blog

Mood Cycling

It has been a few weeks since I posted anything. I have required a bit more sleep lately. I don`t understand how I could be depressed when I have a good life.

I have a epidural this week that I have been stressing over. And worrying about my grandchildren and grown boys is enough to make me mad.

How does one live a life without fear? I turn opportunities down all the time because of the fear in me. Especially fear of causing myself bodily harm. I miss out on the fun with the family and friends. Floating, four wheeling, hiking to name a few. I fear the unknown.

I can`t remember a time I was not fearful. At one time in my life my husband did dangerous things to teach me not to be fearful. All That did was cause PTSD.

I was recently having a conversation with my sister about how well I was doing with my medications. It couldn`t be depression. Afterwards I took a trip to the cabin and brought along my Bipolar explained book. Upon reading the first few chapters I realized I was cycling from my manic phase to my depressed state.

When I have to do things that involve interacting with others I get completely drained.

The entire time in my head I am asking myself, Am I talking to fast?, Can they tell I have mental illness?, Was that the wrong thing to say?.

I would like to know if any of you experience the awkwardness in social situations also. Please feel free to leave a comment.

Beautiful Mess

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Same Thoughts Different Reactions

My mind is like a carnival ride

About this time last year I posted a very emotional and hysterical post about all the scary things taking place in the world. And at a later date after watching it again, I removed it.

I was embarassed by my tears and emotional video. What a difference a year makes. A year of the right phsychiatric meds. Today I feel all the things I did the day I recorded the video. My reaction to those thought is 100% different.

When I started this venture I promised I would post the good and the ugly. I wasn’t true to my word by deleting it. In the future I will do better at being honest and open about my behaviors. I hope that one day even just one of my post helps you in this very exhausting struggle to pretend to be normal.

Blog

My Ex Husband Died of Covid

I feel like an idiot. Who cries over an ex that abused her. Me….He also went after anyone that loved me. Saving me from the filth were his words. But here I sit sad that he is no longer on this earth. If the good Lord didn’t hold his behaviors against him because he had mental illness, I pray he is sitting pretty with the Savior. Our marriage lasted longer than it probably should have. Two bipolar people together is a disaster. We were always blaming each others mental issues. I was always wrong, he was always wrong. In his obituary I am the 12 year gap. No mention of me. That is alright. Fly high!!!!!

Poetry

Imperfection

Imperfect we were meant to be, so our flaws he could see.

Each of us made unique, so the Savior we would seek.

I have scars that will never heal, imperfect the make me feel.

No one notices nor cares, that someone’s mark my face bares.

These lesions I hide well, to look you cannot tell.

It’s no birth defect-I am not blemished, with me He is not finished.