Posted on June 6, 2017 in Depression Silicon Valley Uncertainty Writing Exercises
I still wonder if I did the right thing, if I did any good in the world.
Posted on March 2, 2017 in Agitation Mixed States Suicide
That was the whole plan. That is how I decided to end the pain. Alone.
Posted on January 11, 2017 in Dreams
My niece tells me that she is divorcing me.
Posted on November 5, 2016 in Childhood Guilt Writing Exercises
My mother spent hours raising the scent of Comet throughout the house.
Posted on March 4, 2016 in Bipolar Disorder Literature Movies Psycho-bunk Suicide
“Suicide attracts speculation and prurience like flies to rotting food.”
Posted on August 3, 2015 in Bipolar Disorder Mixed States Suicide Video
My latest video in the series called My Life with Bipolar Disorder.
Posted on March 31, 2015 in Depression Stigma
Was Lubitz an evil genius? I take exception to the conclusion that his actions were in any way “malicious”.
Posted on March 7, 2015 in Bipolar Disorder Disappointment Reflections
Both those terms have been used to describe me. An insult just doesn’t stab, it leaves a wound — not a scar, but a bleeding dripping lesion that comes to you in your worst depressions and sometimes — like now — when you are feeling just fine. I am a loser because I have not worked since I was 33 and do not have kids. I did not make a million in Silicon Valley and no one buys my photography or my writing (which I haven’t tried to sell in a long time.) Never mind that I have been married 27 years to the same woman, never hit or threatened to hit her or called her a vile name. I am a loser, a pariah.
The isolation of bipolar disorder is hell, but the isolation of my personality is worse. When I take tests such as the Myer’s Brigg, I keep scoring in the rarest categories. Less than 1% of people out there share my characteristics. We wander around, seldom meeting each other. The way we see the world, the things we strive for just aren’t appreciated or discerned by the rest of you out there. You come onto my blog, read my accounts of my illness or other aspects of my life and you don’t get me. I am a cipher, a shadow on the wall swept by the wind, a curiosity that cannot be. I, like others of my kind, feel alone. No wonder so many of us end up in monasteries or convents.
Posted on January 30, 2015 in Bipolar Disorder Campaign 2004 Campaign 2010 Campaign 2012 Hatred Propaganda Violence
What does one do in an America of violence, alienation, and stigma?