Writing for You...

I looked at the name of my blog-site today and it made me wonder. "Things I Know about" was started for several reasons. I wanted a place to put my thoughts. I wanted this place to be somewhere that I could write openly and honestly about issues that effect almost everyone, at least once in their lives. Obviously, the experiences would be a little different from each other since I know that not everyone is bipolar. I know that those that stop here may have loved ones that are inflicted with this disorder. I know that people will stop here for their own personal reasons. They may pass through and never leave a mark on the page. I do hope though that when they leave, they are able to take a little something with them from my own past.
 But back to the name of the site here. "things I know about" started out with me telling you, the reader, about how things in my life had taught me new lessons. How the actions or happenings around me gave me choices of how I would react to each of them. And I wrote about exactly that. From being bipolar and suffering from Tourettes to losing the love of my life and how I would deal with it all, I wrote it down here for you to see. Sometimes, I dug so deep into my soul that I felt as if I were standing naked before each of you. I wrote about my smiles and my tears and the heart break of losing someone so dear to me, it was more like a physical part of my body was torn away from me. The pain was as real as any pain might be, should you have your arm or leg ripped off of your body. You felt it in my writing and I bared my everything for you.
 When I look at some of my writings that are more recently written, I tried to see something I had learned from the event or feeling I was writing about. When I write about my issues of trying to deal with my mind taking me to dark places, telling you how scared or how lonely or sad I am, am I telling you about things I know about? Am I simply writing my thoughts without giving to you a lesson learned? After re-reading a few of the blogs, I believe that I am doing that. i am telling you the roads that being bipolar takes me down. I am showing you that by my writing about it, being candid, that I Am dealing with it. I hope that I am telling you that you are not alone. That is something I know. I am displaying for you things that you as a bipolar person may encounter and that by remembering something you have read here, you will feel a bit less alone. There is a peace in knowing that others feel what you are feeling.
 Even when I wrote my short stories here for you, I am expressing my inner self. Writing is extremely therapeutic for me and so... I write. I write with all of my heart and soul, hoping that maybe it will bring at least of small measure of peace to your souls.
 Things I have learned or that I am learning each and everyday are things I want to pass on to you. I will sometimes write abstractly and may even seem confused in my writing. I am sure that the reader has been exactly where I am at the time of my writing. Lessons are brought to us every day in many forms. It is up to us to decide what we are going to do with them. Those days that I wish no longer to be on this earth are choice days. I can choose to stay or go. So far, thankfully, I have chosen to stay around a bit longer. I will continue to write as long as life allows me to do so.  

From Beauty to the Ugliness within... My World.

Autumn... my favorite season of all. I feel energized and a peace about me when this season comes along. Today, one of the most perfect Fall days. It is rainy outside. The clouds are hanging low and dark. Mid-day and lights need to be on to make it light enough to type. Leaves are falling as the rain falls on them and the ground is splattered with the colors of Fall. The grass is still green, with a hint that it might still grow if the Sun would only caress it with it's warmth.
 My porch, long and wide with new wood  that smells so good and looks so very clean. The perfect setting for a Fall day. A cup of hot coffee, flavored with French Vanilla creamer, is held lovingly in my hand. I look out at the rain, thunder rolling somewhere in the not too distant. A trace of lightening flashes across the sky. Not enough to warrant going inside for shelter. Just enough to add to this Fall day. And then, I catch the scent that tells me Fall has truly arrived. I breath in the fragrance of fire-wood, burning somewhere in this little town. It is like heaven to me and I smile softly to myself. How I wish autumn would never have to go away. The knowledge that winter is just around the corner both excites me and saddens me.
And then I feel it. The tear that is slowly making it's way to my cheek. It's warmth turning to quickly to cold on my face. Another follows the same path as the first tear and my mind begins to wander as it does so very often these days. Do they know??? Do they feel me without me speaking? Do my smiles cover enough to hide the torment that I feel, ravishing my insides... fighting my every attempt at simply enjoying this perfect Fall day? Just like the rain taking the leaves down to the ground as it falls, I do not want to take my loved ones down with me. How my soul and my heart fight one another. My heart so wanting to simply enjoy but my soul will not let me.
 Can you imagine living this way? Is it possible to continue to survive when everything you do is turned to tragedy or guilt? A life that any man would beg to have. Something precious that the world searches and steals and lies and cheats just to hold for a moment. Peace, serenity and contentment. They are all mine to have and hold and Yet!!!!!!! I can not find that contentment inside my soul. I think of the bipolar and the tourettes and all that it does to me. Thieves in the night that steal away what is rightfully Mine. A constant reminder that I am Not like everyone else. That I can not simply live my life and not fear that one or the other will pop up at the most inopportune time and whisk away the smile that found it's way to my face. A soul, torn to shreds by wrongs not even his own. tears cried for loved ones because he Fears that they will be sad. Feeling that he IS responsible for their smiles as well as their sadness. Trying desperately to carry their pain so that They can have this beauty and contentment that is so easily his own. A Sadness that over takes me in a way few could imagine.
 I stepped out onto the porch again, taking in the wonders that are Fall. I feel the heaviness of all my thoughts and my mind becomes confused. Is it anger or pain or sadness or happiness that is striving so hard to reach the top of my head and escape? Too many thoughts running around up there to really figure out which one will win yet. All I can do is let the day finish out. I will try to pull out some of the incredible beauty of the day and make it my own. I am not greedy. I do not need it all. Just a little bit of this scene, minus the tears of depression. A man, blessed far more than any man, especially This man, ever deserved to be bless, and yet, sadness is my constant companion. I am not an "unhappy" man. I love to smile and make others laugh and feel good. I love to know that I bring joy to some lives and that when I leave this world, I will be remembered in a good way. Will I be remembered as a good man that had a good heart? I do hope so.
 Welcome to my world. I wonder if anyone will See the pain I fight every day.  Will they read the depth of my sorrows in my words today or will they just see a pathetic nothing, that sits and writes, nothing? Can You feel the depth of my sorrows? Sorrows with not a reason in the world to be there. "I" do not even know where it comes from. I only know that it comes to me during my most serene and love filled times. The highs that are so high, I am euphoric and can envision a fireplace, softly burning, in my living room. I can see myself sitting near the fire, warming myself and smiling as I watch the family going about their day. Such beautiful thoughts. Sighsssss... And then, they are gone. Replaced with a Low that revivals my highest High. Who would choose to live this way? No one would ever ask to live this way. When you doubt that it is real, you give me cause to think that I could have done something to NOT be this way. You crush my very heart and make me feel stupid and weak. Do you know that you do this to me??? Will you cry for me when you read this? I wonder...   

Still unsure...

I am writing my memoirs for my publisher. Something I truly thought would be easy. Wow, was I wrong. I am still trying to decide exactly how healthy this endeavor is for me. Going back to the very places I have run so fast and so hard to get ahead of. In doing so, I realized something. I found that I have done exactly That. I have ran and mostly, stayed ahead of the memories but never truly got "past" them. There is a huge difference in the two words. I stayed one step ahead of issues and events in my life without ever "dealing" with them. I also found that some things I have sworn too, been so very certain that they happened exactly as I tell them today, did NOT happen that way. I lied to my own self to protect my mind from some of the more devastating things that happened. The bipolar or just a mind like everyone elses, now and then?  
 When I think of where I am today, I realize that I created a world that I could survive in. A world that wasn't always cruel and demanding but that offered goodness and kindness. I have thoughts of how the world Should be and wonder if I wasn't born in the wrong time. I missed the part when the world was a softer place to be. People weren't so rushed and families were exactly that... A family. Not some abstract sense of the word but sat together and ate together and actually could strike up a conversation without having to unload a heap of baggage or thoughts before starting. Not to say that my family did not sit at the table together and eat and talk. We did that and it was good, except for the parts when father and mother discovered we had done something wrong at school or home. It always seemed to come out in the middle of dinner. So, there you sat, picking at your food, knowing all to well that when dinner was finished, the "issue" Would be dealt with. Ah, but look at me now. The very one that just wrote about abstract thoughts and words is busy doing just that. I seem to be all over the place with my thoughts.
 I go back now to the origin of this write. How healthy is it to type your memories and re-read where you have been and see the things you have run from appear before your own eyes. I find myself pausing occasionally in my writing of the memoirs. that is something extremely unusual for me to do. I normally sit and just write, letting the energy of writing take me where-ever it might. I fear some of the places I might go with the writing. I known that many family members do not know where I have been in my life. They don't know of the things that created the very man that they question as to whether he truly has issues or is just where he is because he likes to be there. Trust in my words when I say that No One "wants" nor "chooses" to be where I am today. Few would enter such a mind and fewer would survive or come out "sane" if they Did enter.
 Memoirs... are they healthy? Do the wonderfully colorful memories I have out-weigh the bad ones? Will I reveal, perhaps, more than I should? I guess I will have to continue writing to fund the answers to my questions. Living in a mixed up, slightly confused and off-balanced world is not as pretty as one might think. Thank the stars that I have my writing...