Missing puzzle

I have this burning anger that I can't seem to diffuse.  It just seems to rumble in my belly.  My feelings have been all over the map.  I've went from being numb to rage, to confusion, to being OK, to anger again.  I have been thinking about painting, but I can't seem to bring myself to do it.  I haven't had a brush out in months.  Many months.  That is unusual for me.  This empty space in my head seems to give me nothing to work with.  It is difficult to see the space as a positive, as the wreckage has been cleared up and I have a fresh room to work with.  To me it looks like a huge void.  As if the life has been sucked out of me.  Like living in a vacuum.  And I feel the need to bust out of it.  For some reason it makes me so very angry and I can't seem to move forward with it.  I want to push and shove the space forcing into something.  Anything.  I want to shape it into something.  But it is just air.  No matter how much I try to move it, it continues to be air.  I can not seem to sit still it either.  I am so use to confinement and there is no where to hide.  Fear kicks in, as if this shy, introvert is about to go on a lighted stage in front of millions.  Panic.  There is no where to go.  All of my covers have been unmasked.  And so I dig deeper.  There has to be something left that I can find that doesn't completely make me feel eradicated from myself.  I want to bury myself.  I can not stand being here.  There is too much that is free, seemingly all at once. 

I never thought I'd come to an end with my childhood abuse.  As much as I fought to find out everything buried in my brain, I never really thought there would be an end.  I thought it was going to be a part of my life forever.  I have remembered every main core of it and now I'm left with myself and I don't know what to do with that.  I have been battling the past for more than 20 years.  It is easy to say just live and let go.  I can not begin to explain what that means.  There are so many things about my thought patterns that need so much work, due to the damage done.  I never thought I'd finish this puzzle and now it feels like I have another one, but I have to find all the pieces before I can put it back together.  It is difficult for me to rest and enjoy where I am at when I feel like I'm bouncing off the walls.

 

I know, I know, I think to much.  I complicate everything.  My husband tells me all the time.  Quit trying to figure it out.  But I miss solving the puzzle.  I miss finding the answers and understanding and go through the healing.  Making sense of it all.  I miss the quest.  The mission.  Putting all the pieces in their place to be able to see the whole.  The truth of all the lies, setting me free.  And now I feel lost in a vastness that consumes me.  My ears hurt from the ringing silence. 

I should be happy.  I should be joyful.  But I am miserable with myself because all I am left with is myself.  I should be oozing with gratitude and yet I cringe at the start of every day.  There was a reason for the pain before and maybe in the art of letting go it is it's own pain.  Like a tug of war in my head that doesn't want either side to win.  I understand my past, I don't understand my future.  And so I keep pulling until one side breaks.

Hands of Fire

My husband was right, I can't stay away.  I can't give up on me.  Writing is me.  Writing is how I talk.  Writing is how I think.  Words come from my fingers to my brain.  I keep finding myself not being able to think.  I am not writing.  My head is filled with so much empty space and it is driving me crazy.  It is as if there is nothing tangible to hold on to.  Like there has been a severe spring cleaning in my brain where every nook and cranny has been dusted.  I've never been level this long.  I've never had my childhood past not supporting my skull.  I've never had that dark cave empty and bare.  Writing is the only way I have ever been able to make a connection to myself.  I created my own sign language at three years old in order to communicate with my brain by forming words and thoughts with my hands.  My hands are my most powerful weapons in order to unlock the barriers that trap me from myself.  They are the only way to open the beautiful force that lies within and unleash the magic to be who I am.  I refuse to let the only power that has saved me through every trauma die a death I created by my own hands.

I have no idea where I am in my journey, as I have never walked these miles before.  I'm throwing away any labels I have had.  I want to just be ME.  Who ever that is.  What ever that means.  I don't care about any of it anymore.  I am going to find who I am.  Who I really am without all the stigma.  Without all the fear.  And without being confined to a box of an idea of who that is.  I want to find what really makes me tick and how to drive after more of that.  What creates me into the being I am and want to be.  I am tried of backing myself into a corner that doesn't exist.  For once I want to believe in what is true about me.  The lies never killed me, but I refuse to live by them anymore.  For once I want to believe I matter, because I do.

I have no idea where I am headed.  I haven't a clue which way I am going to turn, but I know I need to be here.  If I do nothing else for myself, I need to be here.  I want to find out who the real Midnight Rainbow is, because I believe in myself and I think I'm worth it! 

Until next time...

As much as I do not like things to end,  I have found myself not participating in My Wrenched Brain.  I have come to a point where I feel there is nothing more that I can add for any one's benefit, including my own.  At this time I feel like I am beginning another phase of my life that pertains little to being bipolar.  My childhood abuse has come full circle and anymore on either subject would take away from my own project I hope to complete someday. 

It is a little painful and sad, but it is also time to let go and move on.  I will be leaving the site up and I will still be around, but for now I have found it is time to start working on my dream.  A dream I have had for many years, to tell my story. 

I can never thank my readers and followers enough for being there for me and with me through this wonderful journey.  I can never explain what it has meant to blogged about my experiences and the healing powers that have brought me to this point of being able to move to the next step in my life. 

I have almost given up on many things in my life but one thing I heard several years ago has kept me going when it seems there was no reason to:  DON'T GIVE UP BEFORE THE MIRACLE HAPPENS.

I have found that I am that miracle and so are all of you.  Take care of yourself, do what you have to do for you and believe in who you are.  Life can be heartbreaking and cruel, but it is also wonderful and full of beauty.  And most importantly, no matter what anyone tells you, DON'T GIVE UP ON YOURSELF!  Thank you again to everyone who has given me this empowerment by reading, commenting and posting on your own blogs.

Until next time...

Midnight Rainbow     

 

Still Here

I here.  I really am and I've been OK.  Though I feel like I've been running a year-long marathon and I'm crawling to the finish line, I'm still OK.  It is as if the years events, emotions, and memories have all caught up with me and have run me down to the ground and I am still OK.  I've been through spitting anger and rage with memories from my past and have lived to tell about.  I am surviving what I find to be one of the worst seasons of the year and soon that will be over too. 

I have been feeling a bit more private with my thoughts and feelings.  You know how when you are in a mania, you can't remember what it feels like to be depressed?  You can't seem to envision or even imagine how it feels, then when you crash, you can't remember the high you were flying in.  Right now I can't imagine either.  The on going push and pull seems to have slowed down tremendously.  There seems to be some kind of normal, living life in it's every day fashion.  Doing those redundant chores and meaningless task that some how add up to a full day.  It is strange.  I still feel depression, I still feel that swinging rock around my neck, but today it's just that a rock, not a boulder and not a pebble, like a reminder of where I've come from.  There are still many things I need to work on with this depression and I still have meds I would like to eventually quit that will probably throw a monkey wrench in the brain, but I'm still OK.  I haven't ever known what it was like to OK.  This is novel idea.  I'm OK with being OK.  I'm starting to enjoy not having all the drama.  That's progress.  In fact it is a lot of progress.  I've come a long way and it isn't over yet.  I think I might like being this way.  It is almost enough to live with and if I honestly look back, it's a hell of a ways from where I started. 

Thank you for reading my blog.  I hope you all have a very Happy Holiday!     

My Silver Lining

Thank you for everyone comments.  The past two weeks have been rather difficult and painful and for reasons I was unaware of until today.

Stubborn Brut

 
My depression and anger kept building on each other.  When my stubborn dog Brut wouldn't come inside, so I could walk my other dog Silver, it was the last straw.  I was beginning to tip to the point of rage and I was so mad I was having feelings of  hate towards Brut.  I knew my feelings were out of context, but I couldn't seem to stop to furry.  After glaring at each other through the sliding door, I moved to another seat.  I just wanted to be left alone, my whole world felt like it was falling apart and I was angry about not keeping it together.  I was madder than hell that I couldn't keep it together.  For two weeks, something has been brewing inside of me and it had hit it's peak.

Silver

 Silver laid her whole body on top of my lap and arms and didn't move.  She's 74 pounds and solid.  The only thing I could do was tear at my one thumb that I had begun abusing again in the last couple of days.  Tearing at the skin of my cuticles.  Beating myself up.  Hating who I was.  Silver stayed there until eventually I couldn't fight anymore and surrender to her warmth and security.  The memory came as clear as day.  A question about my past that I never knew the answer for, right there in front of my face.  A doubt that made the difference between peace and disturbance.  Finally after all of these years, I knew the real answer.  Bringing me the peace I questioned.  Another piece of the puzzle that I could finally lay to rest.

Pain, sorrow, I grieved for my loss as I held Silver tighter and tighter.  It wasn't the first time Brut has refused to come in, but this time he was more defiant about it.  If he did come in, I would have left to walk Silver, hence not giving her the opportunity to help in the healing.  I was about ready to go out of my mind as I had been overcome with intense emotional pain that wasn't going to stop.  I kept trying to run away from it, but once Silver was on my lap, I had no where to go and the healing powers began.

When Brut came in, I immerse him in thank yous, hugs and kisses.  If he hadn't been such a bastard this post would have been a another huge rant of rage or nothing at all.  Sometimes what I think should happen is the furthest thing from what I need.  

Mericful rambles

I can't seem to wrap my head around this space.  Maybe because I feel like I am constantly fighting for air so as not to drown.  I took my dog for a walk to help pull me out and I felt more defeated than when I left.  I couldn't run far enough away to escape reality. 

The holidays are a crock.  As if I should have to put my life on hold for a month.  I still need a roof over my head.

The future is on hold, the past creeps near and the present feels empty.

A song plays over and over in head, slicing at my brain, little by little as it's death grip clutches my throat and drags me over the hot coals. 

Pig out or starve.  Wired awake or sleep until the ends of time.  Smoke like a fiend or try to quit.  Suddenly nothing is descript. 

Did I mention the holidays?  And the slime ball industry it has become?  Where is the cheer the other 364 days of the year??

All fighting for the last of our meal.  How the hell am I suppose to know how I feel.

Just trying to get by in this measly life. 

To leave with a line from Alice in Chains, "Grind"

In the darkest hole
You'd be well advised not to plan my funeral
Before the body dies

The lines that are hatching my brain to tiny pieces.

Just thought I'd share in the miracle of being bipolar. 



 

the Meloncholy Dance

Not really sure what I'm feeling, so I'm just stretching my brain a bit seeing if I can grasp it.  I'm not sure who I thought I was kidding with my last post.  I'm stable but I'm still low.  Hovering just under the bar.  It is so much work to stay afloat.  Just enough to get going before everything shuts down again.  I feel sad.  A sadness that seems to swirl around me but always just out of my hands.  Sadness like a dance and I need to cry.  And I can't. I can't seem to reach it, like a dream I can't remember.  And I move, wondering what is the point to anything?  Wondering when life became so difficult and thoughtless and empty.  While the sadness floods my soul.  I still can't reach it.  It teases me for a release that will set me free again.  Like catching a butterfly.    

Helping my Husband

Have you ever witnessed someone besides yourself slip in depression?  It is a bit scary.  I could never understand why it would disturb my husband so much when I was plunging into that deep hole.  To me it was life as I knew it.  I am beginning to understand more than I want to know as I am watching my husband head down that slippery slope and there seems to be nothing I can do to save him. 

I have seen it coming on, as it does every winter, but this is my first time being on the other side.  I'm struggling with feelings of helplessness and anger, watching him just keep his head above water.  He has never cared for winter, he has more responsibilities and outside pressures than I do, and when the snow finally falls it does him in.  Having to drive through snow, wind and ice is the straw that breaks the camel's back and I don't know what to do.

He has always been the one that pulls me up and out of my funk and I feel at a loss or incapable of doing the same for him, becaues I don't know how he does it.  I know sometimes there is nothing you can do, but there has to be something.  We are quite different in that I need to just be heard and listened to and eventually things will work themselves out.  He needs to be physically doing something, if he sits too long he sinks.  I've never been in a position to be there for him during these times and I would like to be more proactive with him.  I have a couple of ideas that I think he will appreciate. 

This is so strange being on the other side of the fence.  It is also quite terrifying.  It may sound silly, but I don't feel qualified.  His depression is not serious that he needs outside help, but you would think since it has encompassed my entire life I would feel better equipped to help.  We love and trust each other enough that I suppose anything I try won't hurt or make things worse.  Maybe it just those simple things of taking care of him more will make a difference.