When We Forget the Past, We Are Dommed to Repeat It

Gritting my teeth.... If I didn’t I would probably bite someone’s head off.

I’ve been in this ‘pissed off at the world’ kind of mood for several days now, and I feel an overwhelming need to get away from everybody and everything. Even if it’s just a few yards, I need some sort of distance. I’ve been extremely edgy, yelling about the things that are not in their place, about how unclean everything is around me, just yelling about everyday stressful things that take place.

When I get like this, I have to write. I do most of my writing at home on my computer, or in my bedroom in one of the various notebooks where I keep most of my more serious thoughts. But every now and then, I escape to one of the local parks. Mostly because I enjoy the feeling of being around the trees, smelling the fresh air, and being able to feel alone with my thoughts for a little while.

There is one park that I mostly tend to lurk around, which is fine during the daytime, but at night this causes a problem with local law enforcement. So, again I started studying/stalking them a little recently to discover a pattern in their activities. This then allows me to spend my time relaxing in my own way at the park during the times I feel the need. It has worked several times without a problem, but every now and then I lose myself into some deep thoughts when writing and get caught. Luckily Officer R was in a good mood this time and let me off with a polite warning. Thanks.

Being bi-polar is very rough. It can lead you down roads you normally would be to frightened to travel, and you find yourself doing things that later leave you wondering what the fuck you were thinking. Such as thinking about cutting myself deep enough to need stitches. But I don’t want anyone to find out, so instead I’ve been inflicting small injuries where others can’t see, or won’t really question what happened. It was just something to shock my mind out of feeling unpredictable, and to slow the racing thoughts. Sometimes that is not enough. Here is where the police come into the picture.

Where I sit at the park, I can see where they are in the distance. I‘ve even done this at other parks in different towns. When I get to the level where I want to do extreme cutting, I go park where they are within a short distance. ( Q-Trip is sometimes a good place to park:) ) Then instead of cutting, I write. From past experiences I know if law enforcement were to view my ‘accident’ they might try to lock me up somewhere. Locking me up actually makes things worse, because the moment I’m left alone, I will cut myself deep. It’s like a part of me says it’s okay now to cut, because if you cut too deep someone will be there to help you. Later is when it messes with my mind.

I’m still finishing up the rest of my thoughts that I wrote the other night, so I’ll post it a little later.

Why I like talking to the police.

Since I’ve been posting on my blog I’ve received several e-mails, some are of course negative and telling me how crazy I am, while others are very supportive and want to help me in any way they can. In the end though, the message is always the same, I need to get some type of professional help is the main concern from the officers I meet, while others tell me they understand my pain because they too have experienced the same feelings. It amazes me sometimes when I come across those who truly care whether or not I live or die. And sometimes I think the officers are just trying to prevent me from committing more crimes, which I guess is good. (I’m getting there; I’m just not there yet.)

The strange thing I have found about speaking to officers online, is that it gives me enough of an adrenaline boost to make me feel okay for a short period of time. It’s an addiction I can’t stop. Is that so wrong? When I talk to them, they stay in my head, and when I go out their voices are still there and I don’t commit crimes. I know that sounds weird but it works for me. I don’t want to be a law breaker, a criminal, a drug addict, a loser, or a drain on society. Damn it! I just want to feel normal for one fucking day! So I confess some of my darkest secrets online to complete strangers just so I can feel okay and be able to make it to the next day.