Love after Death


It’s been quite a while since I posted, a lot has gone on lately.

I started this blog back in February. I was in one of the darkest points of my life. This was my attempt at finding some internal clues as to what made my mind tick.

At many points in between then and now I contemplated suicide. Overall, I feel in a semi better place, but not a whole lot.

It’s now 8 months later…
Last Tuesday the urge to leave was so strong. No apparent reason, just pulled out my medicine box and counted out how many sleeping pills I had in an effort to see if I had enough.
Which I did…but in the end, I put them away.

I have looked back at my life history that I’ve written down here, along with bits an pieces I didnt.
I’ve made so many bad choices. Let my mania run the majority of my life.
A few posts back I wrote about a friend. One I’ve known for over ten years. We both just out of very serious relationships. We both swore that we weren’t looking for anything or anyone.

It’s hard to believe now that it’s been nearly a month since the day I contacted her.

We talked so much the last 4 weeks. Met for secret dates. Had some nice dinners. Laughed. And some very amazing sex. Very very amazing sex….
Every encounter with her I could sense a slight tingle inside.
My heart and soul is crushed. Pounded into dust. My brain is a scrambled mess of confusion. My feelings of self worth destroyed.
But this woman. This woman opened up something that I thought seared shut by hate, anger and disgust.

So long I’ve felt nothingness other than pain.

We went away last weekend and spent 2 nights together. The initial sex we had before had changed. It had became more. Every touch I could feel…

I didn’t fully realize I had prior feelings for her until Saturday night.

Saturday night she told me she loved me. Not just in a passionate moment. But looked me in the eyes and said she loved me. The first time I replied straight from my heart an told her I loved her too.
Straight from a heart that had been so hardened that I forgot it was there.
It was also in that first moment I could feel my heart again.
Death had not won. Not in the 30+ times I’ve tried to take my own life. Death had not taken my heart.
We continued through the night talking. Sharing past stories. My heart beating again. Then at some point a little later in the night she told me she loved me for a second time.

I had to work very early Sunday morning, so I needed rest. As we lay down in bed, we held each other so very close.

My heart now moving so fast. I’ve never been diving before, but I’m familiar with the terms.

As close to how to explain the feeling, my heart was suffering from decompression sickness.
It was pushed down so far, then came flying back to the surface at warp speed it was getting ripped to shreds.

I’m am willing to admit it.


It’s been 2 days. In my alone time I couldn’t count the hours I’ve spent crying.

I tried ignoring everything. I thought I could make it work. I thought I was ready.


But I don’t love me. I barely like me.

Loving her and not being able to give myself fully to her as she deserves is wrong.
I’ve been on such an emotional roller coaster lately. Every minute is a struggle. Not knowing what feelings I’m going to have the next day. Hell, it’s changed within hours.

I love her too much to hurt her. Where I’m at now mentally and emotionally I’m positive that I would hurt her in some way at some point. I wouldn’t mean it intentionally. But I know me and I know where I’m at. And that place is a lovely cloud hovering just above a pit of flames.

I pushed her back and it’s killing me. Every nerve in my body is on fire. I cooled it down last night with alcohol.

I’ve tried to explain why…she says she understands. But it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m just not fixed.

I just hope she doesn’t end up hating me like 95% of my previous relationships.

I’m sorry….

I hate being me


6 responses to “Love after Death

  1. A true friend does not expect you to be fixed. Normalcy is defined by the majority of our society- the same majority that spends their time putting on fake smiles, finding BS to push them through each day and focusing on their fake presentation to make others feel bad about themselves. We define ourselves… You have an illness, one that you may not have control have to decide what you want, what you truly want… Each day when you wake up try to find one good reason/thought/feeling to motivate you stay up instead of down, and build off that. The direction of your life is only yours to determine.
    Try to make decisions in your life that continues the perpetuation of the “tingle” – it does not necessarily have to equate to love, but what you find some joy in.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I recently (finally) received my psychiatric diagnosis, and found that I’ve been INCORRECTLY “treated” by my PCP (never having been evaluated beyond that) for 20 years.

    One thing I now believe with 100% certainty is;
    I will never be “fixed”, however
    I will learn how to function AND feel WITHOUT betraying my soul.
    I feel like, maybe you don’t feel worthy of this happiness and moreover, don’t trust it’s sustenance because the love brought comfort,
    and for once, was EASY.

    because, let’s be honest…
    aren’t we always subconsciously waiting for the other shoe to drop?

    I mean, given all of the terrible things we’ve lived through, each and every person we’ve (un)knowingly hurt, situations we’ve manipulated, and/or sins committed (in or out of psychosis)…
    how could we not be terrified of the exception?

    SO, my friend…
    if my words are hitting close to home, I have just a few more for you:

    I promise God is not keeping score,

    neither should you.


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