Monday, August 19, 2013

I cried

As I was wrapping up my chapters about my life before my first major episode in 2001, I was reminded of some serious lack of judgments I had before my dad committed suicide. I self medicated way too much before Greg was born and I did things like bringing home a new sports car without telling Cheri. At the time she had an older used car. There was more, but I'm not willing to share them.

Later on, just before Greg, I decided it would be a good idea to supplement our income by modeling. I took expensive classes, paid for a new portfolio, literally starved myself and bought many new clothes that I never even wore. Of course we couldn't afford any of this. I was doing well at modeling, but I quickly found out that male models don't really make money and agencies treated you like a piece of meat. The real bad thing is that I did all of this when I was having great success as a graveyard warehouse manager. I already had a good job.

I was super hyper-sexual. My moods were everywhere. Even through I knew my grandmother and uncle had committed suicide while in a bipolar depressive dip. Even though my dad had told me he was on and off lithium and was a raging alcoholic, hyper-sexual, bad with money, occasionally seeing a psychiatrist, and a huge drug user. And yet they were all brilliant. I didn't make the connections.

I didn't know anything about manic-depressive disorder. If we had had the Internet or if I had a clue, I would have realized that I was bipolar to an extent that I don't know how my wife put up with me. I would have divorced me. I also would have committed suicide when I was in my early 20's. I wanted to. Cheri was my rock, but she was scared. Scared of what I would do next. Scared when we had children. Just scared. I didn't know.

All of it didn't register until I started writing this book; my autobiography. My conversations with Cheri, a book I'm reading, and writing my book all worked together to blow me out this weekend. I followed backwards in time and saw myself for the first time. I saw the truth. I'm still looking back and I am ashamed. I could be massively successful at work and school, but I was a mess on the inside. The more I remember, the more I cry. Cheri won't tell me more. She says maybe a little bit at a time. I should have known. I should have known.


  1. Just stumbled upon your blog, and I'm a WLS patient living in CO also. Looking forward to reading more from your blog!

  2. Thank you. Definitely check back each month or so depending on my bipolar swings. I tend not to post when i am reallly depressed.