just a secret

it’s all just a secret we are
never supposed to know
no one will remember
anything I’ve had to say
when I’m down on
the ground punching
the earth with all of
my might, I am alone
in my grief as my fists
start to bleed, there’s
no one to stop me as
loud as I sob, I just
have to let my muscles
wear out, when I can
barely lift my arms I
struggle back home
where I sit at my desk
and ponder everything
I have just been through
alone

— GB

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pins and needles

pins and needles pierce
my eyes and bring a
pain that is nothing
compared to what I feel
when I see you standing
in the rain alone when I
could have been there
wrapping my arms around
you and keeping you warm

etch my disappointment
on my face when i reach
for you and fall short
mud and briers fill my
fists, crawling after you
I break myself on every
boulder, drown in every
stream, my life is left
anticipating the moment
I catch you and hold
you and know that
you are mine

— GB

Best Friend Alone

I’m in love with you
There
I said it, OK
I’m in love with you
And that
Makes this
A better day

When we met
You were with
Some guy that
You swore was
The be all and
End all of your
Romantic life

Now it doesn’t
Take me to point
Out just how
Big of a jackass
He turned out
To be

Now I’m here
And I know
That it doesn’t
Make any difference
You’ll find a
New guy who
Will also treat you
Like shit

It’s the doom
Of the best
Friend to end
Up alone
We know too
Much about
You to ever
Be the
One

— GB

Changing Energy

Discussion at the NAMI peer support group today got me thinking about how important friendship is to  virtually every aspect of my life.  A friend asked me to a movie last Sunday when I was just sitting home alone watching football.  I have a friend who calls me every three months to give me an update on how his life is going and check up on mine.  I text message almost every day with my best friend who lives in another state and when we get together it’s as if we had never been apart.  I’ve chatted with several friends on Facebook over the past week.  I have a strong support structure in place and my friends are a part of that whether I’m in touch with them every day or every three months.

I had the same feelings when I was living in San Diego.  I had built a group of four or five good friends  that were all pretty close.  It seemed to me as if we could talk about anything and count on each other to be there when necessary.

When I had the psychotic episode, those friendships broke down.  It was like I ceased to exist.  I had expected something from someone but they disappeared. Every single one of them!  After a few weeks, after I had some time to recuperate and gather myself, I called and wrote e-mails.  I stopped short of going my their houses and apartments.  If they weren’t answering or returning my calls or responding to my e-mails who knows how they would have reacted to me showing up at their door?  I wanted to avoid  an encounter with the police.

But why should I be put in that situation in the first place?  What did I do that was so…. heinous, as to cause five people to act as though I never existed?  These were people I had grown to trust and to count on and I was experiencing none of that.

So, on top of the most traumatic event of my life, I find that the people that I expected to be there for me and to support me aren’t there.  They aren’t anywhere.  In addition to feeling scared because of what I’ve just been through, and confused as to what my life is going to turn in to, I started to get mad, really, really, really, mad.  The thing is…. I had no energy to express my anger.  I don’t even know what shape it would have taken.  I just had to take my anger and turn it inward.  I had to shove it down deep inside so it would be out of sight.

That anger is still inside me, but it is in a different form.  It’s no longer the negative energy that it used to be.  I try to use it in my every day life.  When I see something, or hear a familiar song, or even enter a situation that I recognize as something I had shared with one of those friends I say to myself “X would have enjoyed this” or “Y would have done this or that”.  I treat my memories of those people as happy ones.  I figure that Bipolar is going to come up with ways to attack me with enough negative shit, there’s no reason to add to it with something I have control over.