Life Through My Bipolar Eyes

Everything hurts. Existing is difficult. Breathe in. Breathe out. I'm not trying to be whiny. This is, simply put, the face of depression. I sleep for hours, waking still tired as can be. I eat until I gorge myself, then continue to starve myself until the next day's gorging. My eyes water, and yet no tears fall anymore. I can laugh, but the laughter and smiles do not touch my eyes or my heart. Being alone in a black fortress of solitude is all that I crave. Allowing myself to be swallowed whole into the abyss that is my mind. Thoughts moving at the pace of sloth-like monsters that gradually enter my consciousness and force me to examine my every move. My every wrongdoing throughout my life. Every word that has ever burst forth past my lips to become something put out into the atmosphere that I can never take back... It lingers. Stale. The shower burns. Not for the reasons you may think, however. Everything burns my skin. Every touch from another l...

I push him away. Doubting myself has always been my forte. Doubting my self-worth. Doubting my career. Doubting my choices. Doubting him. So, I push him away. I tell him that I am done. I don't want this marriage anymore. My heart cannot handle the turmoil inside my head, let alone the thought that he will one day disappear into oblivion and I will either already be there waiting for him, or I will be left here on this desolate planet without him. I can't stand the thought of losing him. So, why not push him away and be the first to walk away. Then, he will lose me and I will be able to live knowing he will move on and I will have been the one who chose this. I couldn't stand the thought of him choosing to leave me. So, I will leave first. If I yell and say some really awful things, maybe he will be okay with me leaving. Maybe it will help him to heal and move on faster. Maybe... he won't love me anymore... And yet... he stays. He looks me in the eyes an...