8/13/2015


     "Should I stay or should I go now?" - The Clash   It's a good question... a valid question. Actually, it's a pretty straight-forward and simple question. So why then, is it so damned hard for me to answer?!
  RESPONSIBILITY! That's why! That's the only thing I've figure out thus far! I can't come up with any other reasons. It's the responsibility I have to NOT hurt the ones that I love for crying out loud! It's THAT responsibility!!
  Do you actually grasp the understanding from whence I am actually coming from with this?! I'm coming from the pits of fucking HELL with this question! THE PITS OF HELL!!
     We live in the land of Hell right here on this earth. If you don't believe me, OPEN YOUR EYES!! It's simply IMPOSSIBLE not to see it. But so many people have become bling to it... our homeless population when apartment buildings and houses are sitting empty that could be home for them.
     Our starving. When you see a "beggar" on the street, you are only seeing the side to him/her that he/she is forced for you to see. You fail to see the man who used to be the top salesman at Sprint until they moved his job to India. Ever wondered why you NEVER get an American when you have to call them now?
     What about the lady? Maybe she is a real estate agent who was burned in the the crash of real estate and hasn't been lucky enough to get up on her feet again. Maybe she trying to get food to feed her two starving children who are hidden in the car, terrified for their lives or if their mom will come back. Think about these things. If you have some change or a few dollars you can spare, give them something. Don't think about what they're going to do with that money, you gave it to them, it belongs to them now and they must live with the choices and the consequences of those choices.
     But I digress. There are other parts of Hell. The PITS of hell... the ones that are called the abyss of hell. It is the darkness that is everywhere, it is all consuming. It strangles you, slithers into your mouth and nose and slides down into your bronchial tubes until it reaches your lungs and it just keeps coiling right there until you can barely breathe any longer. Your breathe goes in and out in a whistle because that's all the blackness allows you to have. It won't kill you. Nooo, it won't... it has no mercy. Killing you would be too merciful. You wouldn't experience the pain. You wouldn't experience the suffocation. You wouldn't experience the desperation. You wouldn't experience the insanity of it all. Too merciful for this abyss; for this pit of darkness escape is pretty futile.
     But I still think about it and I think about it a whole lot more when I am feeling as weak and powerless as I am right now. I am in a mixed episode and it's like fighting with myself.
     I want out. I want to be rid of it all. The depression, the elation, the running at full blast and then slamming into the side of a barn with arms open wide and staring dead at it. I can feel the wood pierce my body, shatter against me and slide deeply under my skin. I can feel my heart slowing and everything and everyone around me now becomes slow motion...ah yes, it seems as if I impelled myself on a rather large and rusty nail. Looks like it nicked my defunct heart anyway. Is this my escape?! Elation leaps to the forefront of my brain, doing cartwheels and cheering, but soon she stops. Her curls droop down, her lip puckers out, and those tears start trailing down her face once more. The EMTs got here in time thanks to the heroic efforts to save me by Farmer Extraordinaire, Mr. Smith. Thank you Mr. Smith. I cry my own tears which drown out the cheerleader that lives in my head. She runs to hide. No, I will survive this again. I always fucking survive. It's such bullshit! It pisses me off to no end!
     Let's talk about the responsibilities that I have. The love. That's all that keeps me here, tied to this eternal damnation that I can, for the most part, avoid all together, but it's tied to me, you understand. It's a fucking living, breathing, blood-sucking, energy sucking cow of a beast and it is always, ALWAYS fucking with me!!! It will try to come out and interrupt when I'm playing with my grandchildren or having a good time with the boys. It likes to try to come out when Darrin and I are having a good time. He has seen it. I don't think he realizes what it was that he was seeing, but unfortunately he DID see it. I don't want ANYONE to EVER see it. It's gruesome and it's a part of me. I hate it! If I could excise the beast I would gladly cut holes in my skin to pull it out. I have tried that before. I was younger and stronger then but I still lost. I would cut, it would just sink in deeper where I couldn't get to it. I tore my arms up a couple of times doing that.
     I do hope, pray, and wish for peacefulness someday. Where I can close my eyes and I will no longer have to share my brain with them. They will be gone. Just a glimmer of it would be good. To actually be alone in my head. For the buzzing in my ears to be gone, all the voices, all the squabbling, all the direct commands that I must fight against so hard. It really does wear me out.
     I still haven't talked about the responsibilities. I get a little afraid to openly discuss them. I have responsibilities to my husband, Darrin; my three sons, Dana, Steven, and Bobby;  Stephanie, who has become **MY** daughter because her bio-mother is a joke and that is putting it lightly; my four grandbabies, Maddie, Xander, Mia, and Xanvier, my best friends, Heather and Annie; my furbabies Dana's furbabies, Steven's furbabies and Bobby's furbaby.
     There's not a single person or furbaby on that list that I am willing to hurt. Not one. So that's the answer right there. I can't get this growth of the abyss off me due to my responsibilities. My loved ones. They're the ones I stick around for. I want to be a part of their lives. I want to see what wonderful and miraculous things are in store for them. More than ANYTHING, I want to see them all HAPPY and I don't want to see that growth of the fucking abyss on them!!
     I strongly suspect that Bobby carries the abyss within himself as well. All the signs and symptoms are there and Bipolar doesn't just miraculously clear up when you hit a certain age, it just shows back up and fucks with you. He was self-medicating with Pot. Now it's alcohol. He's up to a six pack of tallboys each and every night.
     I think the other two have it too. When Dana was a kid he was diagnosed (dx) with unipolor depression. Steven was dx'ed with ADHD. So they all have a touch of it and I am the one that gave it to them. I am so sorry that my disease reached out and bit my kids and infected them too. I wish like hell that I could fix that! But they learn to cope and to live and they're all doing okay.
     I've ranted and raved enough. I'm starting to see shit so it's time for me to go. Peace to whomever took the time to read this. I'd love to read your comments below. Thanks!