All, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Hot Mess Daily Life

Where Did I Lose Your Love? My Last Letter To You

Or maybe the better question is When?

Dear Ex…wait,  you aren’t very dear, so how about

To The Ex,

I’ve been there for you in the good times and the bad.  I tried to be the best ME that I could be.  When I discovered people trying to hurt you, I told you, yet you always found a way to make me the bad one. I still sucked it up.  I let it happen time and time again. I  never once said “I told you so,” and never once demanded an apology (I knew I wouldn’t get one anyway), but was just hoping that the next time I tried to warn you, you would take my advice to mean something.

But, time went on, and eventually, it all caught up to me and I got sick and ended up in the psych hospital.  I did everything I could with all of the tools, coping techniques, and other things I was given over the years in effort to learn to deal with my illness and manage it.  You however, despite all my doctors and hospital visits opinions,  insisted I was doing all of this because that behavior was deemed by you to be dramatic and because I’m drama queen.

To my own detriment, I allowed you to tell me that I was a drama queen and continued to think and believe that.

I just worked through it with some people from group and in my own way.  I realized that while everyone else had supportive relationships, and significant others that gave them emotional support, I wanted that too, but that is not what you gave me.  I just wanted you to hold me and tell me it would be ok.  Instead, anytime my emotions or moods became so overwhelming that I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and would inevitably resort to crying, you would get mad at me for crying and would get up and leave and not come back until the middle of the night or next morning. That made me even more upset because I would worry about you also.

You always left.

The good, but yet bad at the time, part about it all was that it forced me to get better on my own and find my own ways.  But just when things started to get better for me, you go and get yourself arrested for some hefty charges. Even after things got sorted out, because I love you , I ended up in trouble because I wanted to save you. I saw them pinning all of the beach home’s former roommate’s illegal possessions on you, I went into an immediate protect mode and despite my feelings that Mr. Shady roommate  wasn’t going to be a good roommate, you continued to assure  me for many weeks before and after he moved in and said to “trust him, just trust him.”

So I did.

After several weeks before and after he moved in, I decided to put my guard down and trust him.  So, yes, it was my fault.  I was stupid.  I was an idiot.  I should never have said a word to him that day when he called me after they had taken you away in handcuffs.  But I did, trying to protect you.  Ultimately, I got in trouble and OH MAN AM I ever paying the price.  Never had I ever blamed you for it until I filed for divorce 4 years later.  Even though everybody I know thinks I should be blaming you for all of this, that I should be so angry at you, that I should be the one pissed off at you, bitching at you, and YOU should be the one bending over backwards for me, treating me like a queen because I was there for you through the whole thing, but, they didn’t happen.

I stuck by your side, I did the very best I could to make things a little less miserable while you were in there, while still trying to keep myself from falling apart out here.  I had my own problems, with my doctor not being able to get my medications in check enough to keep me in a good stable place, my probation for my job, the false positive drug test fiasco the day of my sentencing, various run ins with the condo’s home owner’s association, etc;   I had my fair share of trying to coordinate with your parents, your sister, to keep not just YOUR life going, but mine also.  When you got out, you still had your house, you had your business, you still had a lot of things, things that most people who have been in jail didn’t have then, nor when they got out, so I did my best to make sure that you had everything, even if it meant draining every last ounce of my energy.  I did that for love. That’s what I knew love to be and that is what I did.

Things were fine for awhile, and I was trying to find something I could do that would make me happy while I was looking for support because my bipolar was getting the best of me. I mean, you continually told me flat out, starting when I was first diagnosed and hospitalized in 2006, you didn’t want to learn about bipolar and didn’t care about it. (Which, to be quite honest, is so incredibly selfish and hurtful.)

 How could you NOT care about an illness that someone you love has?  Especially a mood disorder?

My job was no longer making me happy.  I wasn’t seeing my friends much because they all lived in the suburbs, and I obviously couldn’t talk to you about it or get any support from you.  Frankly, I have to practically pull teeth to get even a hug from you, a kiss, FORGET IT!

When I found the website Ask A Bipolar, they were a great support.  They were looking for new writers and I decided to apply.  (My friends tell me that they come to me for advice first and I am awesome at cheering people up).  They let me guest post and then shortly after, I became an author which after some time, the founder and I formed a partnership.  I was so absolutely, incredibly proud that I was able to not just help the people who submit questions, but also help myself in the process, and also so proud that finally, someone thought that I would be an asset. Of course the website is non profit, so I didn’t get paid for the work I did, but to me, the work was not work, but was more than that.  It made me feel good to help, it helped me learn more social media skills, and it formed friendships for me.  They may have been online and I ma not have been able to see them in person but I still considered them friends and had people I could finally relate to. Let’s face it, you hated when I was doing work on the computer and your excuse for that was because I wasn’t making any money doing it.  Well, no, I wasn’t, but I was learning more about my illness and taking better care of myself and that should result in a better relationship for us, especially since you didn’t want to even learn a thing about bipolar.  This should have been the greatest thing for you then because you didn’t have to deal with it.  WRONG.

The one person I wanted to be excited and proud of me was you.

That was another mistake.  All you have done is shoot me down, get mad at me, yell at me, and complain about it.  99% of the time I text, call or email, you are unresponsive even though I know your phone is by your side because it never leaves your side when you are at home. You are hardly home at night during the week and on weekends, so I barely see you.  But then when I do see you, you are ragging on me for something I didn’t correctly that you had emailed or text me about and never responded back when I had questions,  or demanding I wait on you hand and foot.  You complain about MY salary, yet I’m the one bringing in the steady salary and paying for your internet and cable (which you would die without), car insurance, and buying your groceries, but let’s not forget how much you bitch about the grocery shopping.  Now, I’ve tried to explain this to you over and over and you choose to ignore, but do you know what it is like for A FORMER ANOREXIC AND BULIMIC TO GO TO THE GROCERY STORE?! Especially when no one gives her a list.  Its TERRIFYING to begin with and then you harp on how long I was gone.  I”M SORRY THAT I HAVE TO READ EVERY STUPID LABEL!  I’ve told you over and over. *sigh* I don’t want to do it anymore! You don’t help any because when I ask you what you want to eat you say whatever, I’m easy, but then whatever I bring home, definitely not what you wanted. *throws hands in the air* I give up.

I have sat by your side through all of your hardships.

I have tried to cheer you up, have offered suggestions and solutions, given you hugs when things aren’t going well and you look sad.  I try to do everything I can to make you smile again.  But, when it comes to me, well, lately, the only way I factor in is how I have FAILED you that day.  Don’t you think I could use a hug once in a while?  An actual hug, not one that I have to chase you down while you stand stiffly and I hug a giant pencil.  OR a kiss.  An actual kiss that YOU initiated.  Not one that I gave you while you were half asleep as I leave for work in the morning.  What happened to talking to me about things? You don’t tell me anything so you I have to read it on your calendar or you will tell me if its something bad that I did or didn’t do.  I absolutely perfected the art of puting a fake smile on my face and parading around like everything was perfect and I was the perfect child.  Yet, in my room, I was bawling my eyes out for hours because a friend had tried to rape me in the back of his car.  Or cutting and cutting because it felt better than all the girls making fun of me for the rumors people spread.  Or being in Europe and listening to your best friend tell the kid you like (and he likes you, and you had headphones on, but had not turned on the tape) telling him that you are just a dumb idiot blonde and only losers go for me.  Yet, I walked around with this fake ass smile on my face pretending everything was perfect.  I’m not going to do that now.

I’m not going to be this perfect little robot.  Because I have feelings. I’m not a robot.  I have feelings, and I’m a person and I do CRY, (I laugh too) but I cry and I need to be held. I need to be understood too.  I have given you 8 years of total devotion and everything I had, even when I had my own issues and you couldn’t deal with them.  I let you sit there and call me a drama queen, watched you go out and party and not come home while I hurt sooooo badly.  Yet, still didn’t hold that against you when you were in jail and was still there for you and did all I could.  I gave you everything.

Your Response?

I know your response, because it’s always the same, to this is going to be that you give me a nice place to live, a boat to be on, some nice vacations, etc….. it’s all money or things.  I didn’t need those things or ask for them.  Those are YOUR things.  All I wanted was a piece of you!!!!  Your heart!  Not your possessions or money!  If it was about money, I would have left long ago!

Despite all the bad, all the times you hurt me, or embarrassed me, made me feel stupid, unloveable, crazy,  ashamed, inadequate, I know that I did all I could to be there and prevent you from being hurt or embarrassed. I would tell you when people were going behind your back and you chose to ignore it, but I told you, I didn’t keep those from you.  When I thought people were using you for possessions or money, I told you also. When the people you entrusted me to while you were away didn’t come through and left me completely hanging, I told you the truth and you chose to ignore it.  You bought your friends girlfriend a car and you thought that I was after your money.

I became part of your family.  Not just when I married you, but LONG before that. I was there when your niece was born, when she was baptized, when your other niece and nephew graduated high school, for all those Christmases, Thanksgivings, Easters, I was there for the first 7 years of our nieces life. I used  to talk to your mom almost daily, as well as your sister.  I was part of your family for a long time, and they never treated me differently because I have bipolar.  In fact, the first time I was in the hospital, they were taking care of me while you went on vacation to Burning Man with your new college friend.   They never accused me of cheating on you or being after your money.  So, maybe its time to take some pieces of advice from them or learn from their example.

Lastly,

I may have tolerated it for 8 years, but now, I no longer have to. I can be the person I am without having to hide, pretend, or fake my mood or fake anything else because I’m afraid of upsetting someone. I know that I can be loved regardless of having bipolar and of what happened in the past.  Take everything from these 8 years and use them as a million lessons learned, because there were a million lessons. I may not have put them all in here, but I learned them.  I know that I am a good person with a good heart.  I know that I am good at helping people and that I have a lot of other positive qualities because if I didn’t, then this site wouldn’t be as popular as it is and wouldn’t be helping as many people as it has. So, Mr. Ex, This is good bye, good riddance, peace out, scram, and take all your bullshit with you.

Love,

The Bipolar Hot Mess
The one you didn’t support but is doing just fine

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