Bipolar Life- The Journal # (I have no clue)

(It is #77)

What the hell am I doing?

I rarely cuss. I hate it, to be honest. If it leaves my mouth, my patience is fried. I may be there today.

I watched a movie early this morning. A sappy love film.

“How long have you been married? Do you really even know who you are anymore?”

I backed it up 10 seconds and listened again…and again..and again.

No, I do not know who I am anymore. And it pisses me off.

A lost person walking this earth, who loves its beauty but feels no place, that’s who I am. The mystery in my identity is no longer amusing. It’s isn’t about an empty nest; my nest has yet to empty, doll! It isn’t about what do I want to do when I grow up. I am faced with a longing to be worth more than remedies and rallies. In motherhood, that’s all I’ve done for years. Every other part of me is gone because those elements took it all.

I have nothing more in me to wait for others to fix themselves. I’ve spent my life watching kids grow and find their place. Simultaneously, my purpose and vision escaped and never returned. I feel trapped. Gradually, I stopped trying to flee my cell. I accepted my fate.

Why did I believe their missteps were my consequence?

More importantly, how do I move forward now?

Fight Your Way Back

I sit here in bed, wondering if I am capable of recovery. Some recover through addiction (my kids). I am here to recover from them. Do they know? Are they aware they killed a part of me? I am not sure they know. My mental health has not mattered as they stumbled time and again in theirs.

If one small piece of me doesn’t matter, then none of me does. A truth I fear confronting, and pain I feel to my core. My challenge is to remove the desire to be loved by them the way I love and to love myself. I must turn to my reflection and believe in my worth.

I rarely go there.

Who am I to assess anything? I’m a hard soul who believes in self-sacrifice, optimism, hope, work, dedication, loyalty, and memory loss!

I play the ‘forget game’ to move on. Forget what they did, forget what they said, forget the pain, forget the abuse, forget the porn, forget the drinking. I work so hard to forget, I never allow myself to heal. The barrel of lies is so deep, I can’t reach the bottom. There, lying dormant is the substantial truth that if I forget, I’ll be okay.

I’m not okay.

I think I will stop here and unpack and own that truth.

One Reply to “Bipolar Life- The Journal # (I have no clue)”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Wellness Network

Healthy Living in Action!


This is a Ministry of Oasis Bible Ministry, a Fundamental Full-Gospel Bible Teaching Ministry

Psalm 71

Passing God's word onto the next generation.

Silent Songs of Sonsnow

"I have enough time to rest, but I don't have a minute to waste". Come and catch me with your wise words and we will have some fun with our words of wisdom.

☽ Come home, witch ☾

Your favourite witchy magazine

My Life in Our Father's World

Love God - Love People - It's That Easy!!

%d bloggers like this: