July 15th, 2017 – Musical Truths

How long have I been in this storm?
So overwhelmed by the ocean’s shapeless form
Water’s getting harder to tread
With these waves crashing over my head

If I could just see you
Everything would be all right
If I’d see you
This darkness would turn to light

And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
I know everything will be alright
I know everything is alright

I know you didn’t bring me out here to drown
So why am I ten feet under and upside down
Barely surviving has become my purpose
Because I’m so used to living underneath the surface

Everything’s alright
Yeah, everything’s alright

July 1st, 2017 – Musical Truths

You saw my pain washed out in the rain
Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins
But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart

But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view
We’ll live a long life

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
‘Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we’ll be alright

So lead me back, turn south from that place
And close my eyes to my recent disgrace
‘Cause you know my call
And we’ll share my all
And our children come and they will hear me roar

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
‘Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we’ll be alright

But hold me still, bury my heart on the coals
And hold me still, bury my heart next to yours

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
‘Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold on with all of my might
Just promise me we’ll be alright

But the ghosts that we knew made us black and all blue
But we’ll live a long life

And the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view
And we’ll live a long life

March 4th, 2017 – Musical Truths

Hey, I hear the voice of a preacher from the back room
Calling my name and I follow just to find you
I trace the faith to a broken down television and put on the weather
And I’ve trained myself to give up on the past ’cause
I froze in time between hearses and caskets
Lost control when I panicked at the acid test

I wanna get better

While my friends were getting high and chasing girls down parkway lines
I was losing my mind because the love, the love, the love, the love, the love
That I gave wasted on a nice face
In a blaze of fear I put a helmet on a helmet
Counting seconds through the night and got carried away
So now I’m standing on the overpass screaming at the cars,

“Hey, I wanna get better!”

I didn’t know I was lonely ’til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn’t know I was broken ’til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better

I go up to my room and there’s girls on the ceiling
Cut out their pictures and I chase that feeling
Of an eighteen year old who didn’t know what loss was

Now I’m a stranger

And I miss the days of a life still permanent
Mourn the years before I got carried away
So now I’m staring at the interstate screaming at myself,

“Hey, I wanna get better!”

I didn’t know I was lonely ’til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn’t know I was broken ’til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better

‘Cause I’m sleeping in the back of a taxi
I’m screaming from my bedroom window
Even if its gonna kill me

Woke up this morning early before my family
From this dream where she was trying to show me
How a life can move from the darkness
She said to get better

So I put a bullet where I shoulda put a helmet
And I crash my car cause I wanna get carried away
That’s why I’m standing on the overpass screaming at myself,

“Hey, I wanna get better!”

I didn’t know I was lonely ’til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn’t know I was broken ’til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better

February 18th, 2017 – Musical Truths

Run away, run away if you can’t speak
Turn a page on a world that you don’t need
Wide awake and you’re scared that you won’t come down now

Didn’t I tell you, you were gonna break down
Didn’t I warn you, didn’t I warn you
Better take it easy, try to find a way out
Better start believing in yourself

We build it up, we tear it down
We leave our pieces on the ground
We see no end, we don’t know how
We are lost and we’re falling
Hold onto me
You’re all I have, all I have
Hold onto me
You’re all I have, all I have

Now and then there’s a light in the darkness
Feel around till you find where your heart went
There’s a weight in the air but you can’t see why, why

Thursday, August 25th, 6 p.m.

I had been duped. At 3:45 p.m., still in the psychiatric emergency room, I believed I had mustered enough energy to put on a mask and pull it off. The psychiatric resident had sat across from me and indicated that I would not be put in the psych ward. I would receive a regular hospital room. I would be placed close to a nurse’s station so they could keep an eye on me, but in my mind I had once again avoided revealing the greatest indicators that I had totally lost my fucking mind.

It is right in the hospital notes. I did not merit “CVO” (constant visual observation). Then the damn attending psychiatrist had to go and meet with the resident to review my case. Had to go and show him the realities of my case. Had to review the intense suicidal ideation I had been experiencing. The thought out plan I had to kill myself and possibly harm others along the way. The lifelong history of depression and manic behavior. The phone conversation with my wife indicating her level of concern over the rapid flip of my mental and emotional switch…yet again.

So here I sat. Sitting at a small round table across from a diminutive woman talking to me very softly and gently as she took out a packet of forms and a pen. I had entered yet another state of shock when they placed me in a wheelchair downstairs and informed me that I would be taken to the 13th floor and placed in the care of the psychiatric unit where I would get the care and help I needed. This was NOT what we had discussed!

The shock had deepened into a very dark depression as I was escorted to this table in this “living area” across from a large nurse’s station. Into disbelief as individuals in hospital gowns walked by checking out the newest member of their community. Some of them offering gentle smiles. Others talking out loud to demons located somewhere in the deepest recesses of their minds.

This was not yet rock bottom, but I could see it from the point of my current downward float. I was provided a “Patient and Visitor Information” brochure to look over as the small administrator ordered her items to begin checking me into the Norman and Ida Stone Institute of Psychiatry.

Meal schedules. Medication schedules. Telephone schedules. Television schedules! It had been at least 35 years…if ever…since I had been told when I could or could not watch television. I know, strange thing to stick out in my mind and pop up at that moment. It gave procedures for laundry which I remember finding significantly startling. How could I possibly be here long enough to need to do laundry! Details regarding group and individual sessions. I don’t know these people. I can’t share with them my thoughts. My places of brokenness. My pains!

She could see me looking over the brochure and it seems was attempting to verbalize key points related to the sections my eyes seemed to be passing over, but she sounded like the teacher from a Charlie Brown episode as my mind raced out of control with dark frightening images of straight jackets, syringes and injections of unknown fluids to attempt and control my thoughts and behaviors, and fears that I had finally been locked up…and would never be fit to get out.

 

November 19th, 2016 – Musical Truths

Well I know it gets harder every single day
And I know my darkness will never go away

It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hoping that things are gonna change

Oh we don’t know the roads that we’re heading down
We don’t know if we’re lost, that we’ll find a way
We don’t know if we leave, will we make it home
We don’t know, there’s hope, then we’ll be okay

And some say it gets brighter
We just have to wait
Mother mother, I can feel your heart break
Burning through me every single day

It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hurting ’cause you don’t feel loved
It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hoping that things are gonna change

Oh we don’t know the roads that we’re heading down
We don’t know if we’re lost, that we’ll find a way
We don’t know if we leave, will we make it home
We don’t know, there’s hope, then we’ll be okay
Oh there’s something in my mind that’s killing me
There’s something that this life’s not giving me
Would you say

Present Day, November 18th, 2016

It was pressed upon my mind today to let you know that this is not storytelling.

This is me telling you my story.

There is a difference you see. With each post. With each memory. There is a weight. A depth. More times than not, a journeying back to places of darkness and desperation that I never knew I would go.

And not just for me. For others. Others like my wife. Who walks with me each and every day, but for 12 days in particular felt as if she was walking alone. Frightened. Hope dying. Her world crumbling.

As I sift through the notes. The emails. The text messages. There will be times when a pause will be required. Some longer than others. Times to gather myself and make sure I am not overcome by the potential for sorrow and shame. Times to check in emotionally and confirm that the reflecting doesn’t become my reality. Times to remember that who I was at that moment is not someone I ever have to be again.

I enjoy writing. It is therapeutic. But it also is a way for me to try and step outside myself and help others. Help others struggling with mental illness to know that the demons that haunt them are not theirs alone. Help others sharing the journey with a bipolar loved one know that their life is worth fighting for…even when they can’t fight for it themselves.

Help anyone else that comes across this blog understand that we are not perpetrators of random violence…free loaders of a government aid system…people without real jobs, families, and lives…or selfish bastards only thinking of themselves in their desires to end their own lives.

We are real people, desperate for healing, haunted by relentless demons, wrestling with minds that operate in a way we would never wish on our worst enemy.

We are not storytellers.

We are people with stories.