I have started this post and erased it several times over the past few weeks. I've also got several drafts of it saved. Probably the only reason that this one is going to survive where the others haven't is that I've made a pact with myself that I'm going to say it tonight if it kills me.
You can only live with something buried away inside yourself for so long.
I'm going to try not to be too self-aggrandizing here. Partly because I'm trying to get away from that in the process of trying to change my life and partly because it detracts from what I want to convey. But I do feel that I have to say a little something about myself to provide context.
I've been crazy for a long time. Probably my whole life. I didn't realize it for a long time, and it was either not recognized or ignored by the people around me.
I have been overtly batshit for at least 5 or 6 years. Long manic spell that started no later than August 2005 (but probably sooner). Black, black, black depression that began in September 2007. Another long manic spell that began in mid-2008, culminating in the mixed episode from hell last fall. Rising into another mania that wasn't quite as bad as the two before it because of the meds that lasted until about...August? September?
In essence, I have been in a non-altered state of mind for roughly 3 months. Minus a few blips along the way. But yes. Euthymic/stable. Three months. Not too long, comparatively speaking.
I feel like I have come a long way in a short period of time. I've got a level of insight I've never had before. And that's what brought this particular post on.
I know perfectly well I've alienated people. I know that every criminal who never thought he'd get caught used the "but I was insane" excuse when his deeds finally did catch up with him. I know that there are people in this world who will probably never trust me again.
But I also know I was absolutely, medically, batshit-out-of-my-mind, convinced-the-government-was-spying-on-me, crazy. I did things that hurt people. Lots of people. Most of the things I did were spurred on by nothing but crazy person logic--the same logic that told me that the government was aware that I "knew too much" and that my own assassination-by-sniper was imminent, after which the Devil himself was going to come and personally escort my soul to Hell.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I know. But through it all, I swear by all things holy, I never meant to hurt anyone. It's not much consolation. But it IS the truth. Still, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, so many times. I don't know how to live with that.
Kitty used to tell me regularly that she wanted things to go back to the way they were before. I didn't know what she meant. I asked her, and she couldn't articulate it. I even got angry at her because I thought she was being unreasonable and expecting something from me that I didn't even know what it was.
But I see it now.
She wanted back the life she and I had before I went completely insane. She wanted to be able to spend time with me without me flying into inappropriate rages over things I can't even fucking remember now. She wanted me to be at least semi-rational. She wanted me to stop the violent rages and the abusive behavior. She wanted me to stop accusing her of either being complicit in or actively participating in whatever my current delusion of persecution happened to be.
I didn't understand then, but I do now.
I know that Kitty and I may never be close like we once were. But I also know that she's granted me a precious gift by giving me the opportunity to at least attempt to make up for all the crazy I perpetrated for so long. It's a gift I don't deserve, but I refuse to be a dumbass and throw it all away again.
Maybe one day, she can even learn to trust me again.
In a similar vein...I often think about J., the other person I know I hurt badly. I am not shirking responsibility. Not in the least. I know how badly I fucked up over and over and over again. But I also know that, unlike Kitty, she never knew me when I wasn't batshit out of my mind insane.
In spite of that, I think she did like me at one time. I was crazy, scared to death of her, angry at her because her husband treated me like shit, delusional, full of rage/abusive (see above), and doing things that, again, only made sense to a crazy person. But I do think she liked me, even with all that shit.
I liked her, too. I was--am--in love with her. And that's completely outside of anything related to her fucking douchebag husband. But I hurt her, too, because I'm an idiot.
I wonder how she would feel about me now. I know she wouldn't trust me. But if she could like me when I was as fucked up and cracked out on my own brain chemistry as I was when I met her, I wonder what she would think of me now, insightful, medicated, no longer completely absorbed in myself and my own delusions.
I tried to convince her back in the summer that I wasn't nuts anymore. But I was. True, I wasn't AS nuts, but that's like saying you should think of me as a Tour de France winner because I can ride my bicycle with training wheels. I mean, hell, I can go back and look at the things I wrote back then and can see that I was still pretty...off. And justifying my behavior with crazy person logic. As usual.
She said that the things I'd done despite all the medication and whatnot further convinced her she couldn't trust me. And, despite my lack of insight about it at the time, she was right. She couldn't trust me then. Hell, I couldn't even trust me then.
But I feel that a great change has taken place inside me since then, for various reasons that aren't really relevant here, and I can't help but wonder what she'd think of me now.
I suppose I should wonder why I still care...but I don't. I care because I love the two women mentioned above. And only God knows how deep it goes and how much regret I carry in my heart for the things I've done and the way that everything went. And God, at least, bears me no ill-will for it, for, as Dostoevsky said, "Love can never be an offense to Christ."
I have to get off of here now before I get overwhelmed.
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