Crying for no reason and for all the reasons at once

25 May 2018


I'm a mess right now and I feel like I have no one to talk to.  So what do I do?  I come here to write.  Because this is my only safe place where I feel understood.  By who?  I'm not even sure of that myself.  But maybe it gives me comfort that I can express myself freely and no one is there to judge me.

I'm lonely.  I'm frustrated.  I'm angry.  I do feel appreciated at work yet wildly undercompensated and without respect.  I'm sad.  I feel weak and old and crazy.  I feel delegitimized and irrelevant. 



The truth is people only want to be around those who have something to offer.  I don't have much to offer at the moment.  In fact I'm quite needy and an energy drain.  Nobody needs that. 

I can't change my past and I can't change my diagnosis.  Just when I think I've found some safe place to reveal the raw and vulnerable parts of myself....crickets.  And the leprous response to mental illness is there again.  Alrighty then.

I tried tapering off the bipolar meds recently only to discover, much to my horror, that I am now dependent upon a pharmaceutical product that I didn't need before starting to take it at my husband's insistence. And I'm pissed at him for putting me in this position of dependence for his own selfish sense of security.  I imagine it's similar to a drug or alcohol addiction.  You start for whatever reason and then you must continue to feel normal.  So without Lemictal I get over emotional and irrational.  And what does that prove?  Well, that I'm bipolar of course.  Because bipolar people are over emotional and irrational.  Fuck you.

I lost my safe place in January.  The safe place being the LDS church and the association of my local Saints.  Let me back up.

I've been deeply immersed in gospel study since August 2017.  I was led to it.  And in a way that couldn't be dismissed by my "crazy".  Unfortunately I need external checks in order to verify that I'm not having delusions again.  That they (meaning the delusions) happened once means that it can certainly happen again.  Fuck you.  Only moving forward I'm making sure that I'm getting enough sleep.  I maintain that I lost my grip entirely because I wasn't meeting my physical needs for REM sleep.

I have literally one person who I can depend on.  That's Husband.  Although I pretty sure that he puts up with me because he has a lifelong obligation to do so.  That said, I'm also pretty sure that he would welcome death given the chance.  Heart attack?  Cancer?  "Phew, a legitimate out!  Finally I can get out of here and still have claim on godhood in the Mormon heaven I've believed in all my life."  I truly believe that.  He's in it to win it.  And unfortunately he's hooked his wagon to me, so in order not to come off as a complete ass to friends and family, and so as not to forfeit eternal blessings by rejecting his personal cross and lifelong burden, that being ME...he stays.  Because he has to.  He's been boxed in.  Plus he's overweight (meaning other women might not be interested if he were to leave) and he gets sex often enough to muscle through it.  #yourwelcome  Just being honest here.

On the other hand, if he dies at this point I am out of the LDS church with my children in a New York minute.  He knows this and therefore has a motivation to NOT take death if it was presented to him as an option.

Then there is Christine.  She's great, but she has her own issues.  She's a therapist with a fascination for crazy people.  And here I am.  Technically crazy.  But in my good moments, spiritually deep and fulfilling for her.  So I'm a fascination project at worst and a spiritual sounding board at best.  She'd take offense to that, so... fuck me.

And so I'm left with this fight with myself and death.  I'm out.  Stop the world.  I want to get off.  But since January I've come to learn about eternal rounds. 

What's that?  Well, its the eternity that we all know exists yet didn't quite have a handle on what that would look like.  But now I do.  We've been born, lived and died thousands upon thousands of times before this.  It's not a situation of being your own grandpa.  It's the cycle of this world.  We live ONCE in this round.  The world is formed, populated, lived, saved, and ends with judgement.  All within the same life and identity.  After this world ends the Savior becomes God and His first Heir moves into the position to be the Savior and we all start over again.  Learning something new each time.  And we move closer or further away from godhood each round.  It's all up to us.  Free agency.  What path is our natural inclination when pure knowledge is removed?  What is the nature of our soul?

We've got to work out our salvation.  Be perfect...eventually (to quote Jeffery R. Holland, the duplicitous asshole that he is).  And I know that if I were to check out...I'd find myself right back in the same position until I could figure out how to overcome it.  So my choices are: 1. Suicide and an unknown number of cycles where I get to re-live this shit-hole life and trials until I figure out how to overcome it.  OR 2. Buckle down.  Shut up and just get through this life.  I picked these trials (FUCK ME).  And I've got something to learn.  In the meantime I know enough about eternity, ministering angels, the second comforter, redemption and salvation to find myself AWARE and yet so far away from everything that I want so desperately.

Also, since my torment is internal there is no sympathy.  Everything looks great.  My husband loves me.  The children are all healthy.  We don't really need or want for anything.  There is absolutely NOTHING wrong from an outside perspective.  So any angst that I may feel or express is completely unwarranted.  "Boo hoo.  You feel bad about yourself.  Poor baby."  And people walk away from my hot mess thinking how needy and stupid I am.  OK.  You're right.  Needy.  Stupid.  Gotcha.

I want to be important.  But I'm not.  I want to be respected.  And I'm not.  I want to learn and be visited by ministering angels.  But I'm not (and at this point I'm too much of a coward to even get out of bed when I THINK they might have come).  #truestory

I want to see Jesus face to face.  But if I do, will it be real?  Or will it just be my crazy?  I don't feel crazy.  I'm well rested.  I'm just frustrated with the perception that I am.  I'm frustrated with the reality when I'm not on those damn meds.

And if somehow I manage to figure out how to pierce the veil and associate with my Lord, I will NEVER be taken seriously should I share the experience.  Maybe He won't ask me to.  Maybe He will and then I'm ignored and dismissed.  I suppose that's my own pride to worry about it either way.  See the Lord.  Get to share.  PRIDEFUL!!!!  My husband doesn't believe me NOW when I tell him that the LDS church is in apostasy and largely engaged in idolatry of a man who fancies himself a prophet, yet can only claim that title by sustaining vote of the members.  The man (Russell M Nelson) has never seen God and has said as much.  He is no prophet yet demands the respect and deference that people might give a prophet, but that no TRUE prophet has ever asked for or wanted.

The thing is I have loved Jesus for as long as I can remember.  I cried...no I was sobbing hysterically when I first "saw" his crucifixion in a children's bible cartoon.  Afterwards, I rode the school bus to the first grade a hot mess.  I'd kneel in the middle of my room and pray with all the lights on to feel closer to heaven as a child.  I took the injunction to "pray in your closets" literally.

Update 18 Nov 2019

I suspect that the Lord loves the sweetness of that child so long ago trying to reach heavenward.  Now it's just me.  My innocent faith and cuteness is gone.  I am merely a shell of the person who used to have so much potential, insight and strength.

I'm broken inside.  But having gained greater understanding outside the LDS corporation that demands impossible perfection, perhaps being broken is kinda the point.






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