Breakdowns in The grotesque metamorphosis of a Bi-Polar human into a Tri-polar monster.

I had some giant break down a year and half ago…landed in the hospital…it wasn’t good.
The doctors told me I needed to be on disability.
My parents took me in and told me I didn’t need to leave…I got kicked out when I was 17, so it’s kind of a big deal that they’ve opened their house to me.

All of that is only important because I feel like I am on the verge of another one of those moments.
Last night, sometime around maybe like…10pm…my dad came to my room to check on me to see if I was dead (that’s what he told my mom…which my mom told me when she called me this morning) I guess he just had a feeling like he needed to check on me.

I had been thinking about hanging myself from the doorknob…but, like…not serious thoughts…just, entertaining them is all.

I drank too much…

…the girl I went on a date with last Wednesday hit me up to ask me if I wanted to go to dinner around 8, but it was like 5:30 and I was already well on my way to being drunk and I honestly just wanted to be by myself.

I guess I was getting ready to check out or something.

I don’t know.

Anyway…my dad knocked on my door and kind of snapped me out of it…and then my step mom told me I don’t need to just isolate myself in my room all the time, that I can come out and hang out with them…so, I came and laid on the couch while they watched some shitty tv show…and I guess it felt better than being by myself.

I don’t know.

I’m just so tired.

I’m drinking just enough tonight so that I can get an appetite so I can eat something and then get some sleep so I don’t feel like shit tomorrow…but I can already tell I’m going to feel like shit tomorrow.

I just want to cry, but I can’t cry because that part of me is broken.

I feel like it’s never going to end…I’m always going to have these feelings that I want to run away from…I’m always going to be crazy.
I take three medications every day just to function and I just feel slightly less crazy…it’s not like it has fixed me…it’s not like I feel cured…it’s just like…I’m able to get through the day.

I have such a deep need to dig my claws into my skin and start just peeling it off, layer by layer so I can get the fuck out of this thing.
I’m so tired.

I’m tired of drinking and I’m tired of feeling and I’m tired of not being able to feel the right things…and I’m tired of thinking…I’m so fucking tired of thinking.

I think I need a hug or something.

I don’t know…I’m so fucked up.

I’m sick of hearing myself talk about it…or type about it, rather…I feel like you’re probably all getting sick of it too.
It would be so cool to be able to write about nice things, like how much I appreciate my life.

I was talking to my dad last night and it’s truly fucking insane…like, I am truly fucking insane.
I have a good job where I’m liked and valued and I like the people I work with and I value them and my bosses all like me and I like them.
I have a huge collection of dear friends all across the country (even though I’m losing them all in this fucking state) and I love them very much and they love me very much.
I have a great car that is probably going to last me a long time, and it’s new as fuck.
I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world…and the safest city in that place.
I live with my fucking parents and they aren’t even charging me rent…and I can stay here as long as I want, until I decide it’s safe to go back out on my own.
I’m almost done with school, and when I’m done I’m going to be able to get the best job I’ve ever had doing something that I actually find fulfilling.
I’ve spent the majority of my life just traveling and making art and writing and recording music with my friends…I’ve played live to thousands of people…I’ve had people write me letters telling me how my music has saved them or gotten them through some hard times, or helped them kick the drugs they were on.
I’ve experienced the ups and downs of love with some of the most beautiful people the world has to offer.
I’m intelligent, and healthy, and not SUPER ugly.

I really don’t have a lot to complain about…and yet last night I just drank myself to a stupor and fantasized about hanging myself from my bedroom door.

Like…seriously, what the fuck dude?
What is my damage?

Oh…hahahahahahaha
…oh yeah.
I forgot.

Probably all of that physical and sexual abuse I went through as a kid before enduring a shit storm of psychological abuse as a teenager.

Oh yeah, that damage.

Then I guess there’s the fact that I’m an alien or something…an angel maybe? I don’t know anymore…but I’m something, and I’m not human, and I’m just surrounded by humans…so I mean, that gets really lonely.

That’s real.

Anyway…I’m running out of time to go get a frozen pizza from the village grocery store, so I guess I had better do that or else I’m not going to eat again tonight.

Oh yeah…I totally forgot to eat yesterday, that’s a big reason why I felt like such shit today. I went like 26 hours without eating on accident…I do that a lot.

I gotta get my shit together…

…how the fuck am I ever going to be in a relationship if I can’t even take care of myself?
Seriously, Dane…come the fuck on.

Grow up, bruh.

…

Anyway.
Thanks for enduring another one of these little pity parties.
I would try to promise that it’s going to get better, but I have no idea if that’s true or not.
I love you though.
Even if you stopped loving me back, I’d still love you.
That’s never going to change, you know.
That’s just how I am.

Try to get some sleep, I will too.
I’ll stop drinking soon.
I’ll get back to the work soon.
-Dane