I’m having a really sucky time tolerating with my emotions.

I dont really want to do it.

Im sick of pain, I dont wanna feel disappointed anymore.

Im sick of promises.

Im sick of believing in things that aren’t real.

Im sick of having high hopes.

Im sick of chasing things that I am never going to reach.

Im sick of being personally alone.

Im sick of not working.

Im sick of not being able to trust people.

Im sick of my family not allowing me to feel.

Im sick of my talents that are wasted.

Im sick of being nervious.

Im sick of being afraid.

Im sick of crying.

Im sick of put downs.

Im sick of being quiet.

Im sick of being told what to do all the time.

Im sick of being NICE.

Im sick of being beautiful.

IM sick of LOVE.

Im sick of trying,

Im sick of noise.

Im sick with myself.

Depression, you are the great liar.

Backing me into a dark corner where only I can hear you.

Your accusatory voice like curling smoke from your vile mouth

Away from the safety of the ones who love me.

You beat me with a cudgel of intimidation

Telling me I am no good; do not belong here.

You throw all of my failures into my face like hot searing acid; burning me alive with shame.

Cold and alone in a corner, I cower, curled up with my back to dank rough stone.

The room is dark. I can’t find my way out.

You taunt me

I am too weak both physically and mentally.

I know you are waiting to take the final prize

You want me to give up

Who are you to try and take it all away from me?

You will not be there to help pick up the pieces for those left behind if I go

You will not provide for my children, cheer their triumphs or soothe them in my absence

Don’t you reach out your cruel hand for mine

I will not meet you in this dark place

I’d slaughter you, as you would me.

Written By Julie Farmer,

member of team THRIVE

He was my friend first and foremost.  The first friend I ever had that didn’t really mind the third wheel always with us.  I think it was because it belonged to him to too.  Just nobody had told him yet.

The day we met was like the brightest sunniest day I have ever seen.  No clouds.  No signs of rain.  That would come later.  He was bigger than life. His laugh infectious.  He said what was on his mind.  Take it or leave it.  I took it.  He made me smile.  He made me feel safe.  And special.  I felt truly loved.

And normal.

Because we are the same.

We had our best together time late into the night.  When the whole world…or most of it was sound asleep.  It was like having a secret.  For the first time…I wasn’t lonely in the dark.  We laughed, we ate, we made love…. Our need for each other insatiable…our joy irrepressible.  We were love.  Plain and simple and sweet.   We spent every minute together, not needing or wanting anyone else.

I drank him in.  He embraced me.  Completely.  Everything we did was over the top.  Every emotion out of control.  Bigger than either of us.  We had passion and I felt young and beautiful and incredibly lucky.  We were made for each other…we fit.   When it was good there was nothing better

It got bad sometimes.  And there was nothing worse.  We fought as hard as we loved and then we made up reconnecting physically and spiritually.  As time wore on we would leave each other after fighting…but we could never stay away for long.   Neither one of us had the ability to stop the highs and lows…we fed off of each other…we needed each other.   We were not whole unless we were together.

We were getting married.  He bought a ring and I was forever his and he mine.  We told each other everything no matter how odd it might seem because we understood each other.  It was the rest of the world that didn’t understand us.  I felt like part of me was missing and he felt empty when we were apart.

That winter, we slipped into the darkness together.  I will never really know why.  There are reasons but it doesn’t really matter anymore.  We lay in bed clinging to each other desperately holding on to love until we turned on each other.  I will never be able to say how dark those days were.  Lost, day after day and right there but unable to turn to each other…only able to lash out at each other…to hurt each other because nobody else would understand.   The end was violent.  I pushed.  He pushed back and the world exploded into a violence that was bigger than everything else.  He wanted to hurt me…and I wanted him to kill me.  As quick as it started it was over and we were left drained and shocked and ashamed.  Wary of each other but still wanting only each other. I forgave him but he could not forgive himself.   We stumbled on for a short while until one day he left.

The third entity – Bipolar became my issue. He rejected its existence, denied his familiarity and fled to find normal.  He moved 2500 miles away so that he couldn’t come back this time.  As the miles that separated us became greater, we both cried, aching so badly with the need to just be.  To be together.

The dark days of our demise were dusk compared to what followed.  Because he had shown me what not lonely felt like…the loneliness has been unbearable.  Time has passed and it isn’t easier.  We talk.  We see each other occasionally.  And we are both lost and alone and afraid.    I wonder if this is what it feels like now, how would  I ever be able to even breathe if he had died.  I feel as if I might as well be dead.

He calls me late at night sometimes, when the rest of the world is asleep.  It’s our secret.  We laugh and cry and feel alive for the time we are connected and then shut down and merely exist when we are not.  The nights he does not call I lay alone in the dark sometimes the tears flowing silently down my face.

I speak less.  I do not laugh.  I barely cry.  The hurt and emptiness never go away.   Ever.  I lose myself for hours in music trying to find solace and peace in the depth of it.  By “normal” standards it was dysfunctional and for that reason I rarely explain.   We were normal for us.  And it was the most exceptional amazing time of my life.

He never minded that Bipolar was a third wheel. Until he wanted to leave.  I think it belonged to him too it’s just that no one had told him.  If they had, we might not have even attempted a relationship and never felt a love that deep or strong.

And maybe if he knew it was his too…he never would have left.

Author ~ Beth Campbell

Today we are addressing common feelings that ALL PEOPLE experience at one time or another…

Feeling ALONE.

Feeling like no one gets them.

Being lonely.

In today’s writing, I write about being from a different planet.

No, I am NOT an alien.

I do not believe I am an alien.

I use the idea of being from a different planet as a way to describe my experience and share my feelings and ideas.

Here’s my story…

Sometimes I feel like I am from a DIFFERENT PLANET.

When I was a teenager, I named that planet “Nibor”

(my name backwards).

“The Story of Nibor”

by Robin Mohilner

On planet, Nibor, all life is transparent.

As Niborians, it is our custom to say what you think…share what you feel. (period)

There is no silencing of anything or hiding.

There is no embarrassment or shame for being who you are.

“Judgment” is a concept we simply don’t have.

…Niborian’s simply don’t have a need for it.

Judgment is of NO value.

There is no such thing as “NORMAL”, so no one is DIFFERENT.

We simply just BE who we are,

And by simply being who we are,

we each have a gift that we contribute to life on our planet.

Being Robin Mohilner, a Niborian, on planet earth is hard.

Even when I am with great people, sometimes…I feel alone.

I feel lonely.

Sometimes I wonder if I am the only Niborian on this planet.

I miss Nibor so much at times because here on earth, most people are afraid to be themselves.

They are afraid to share what they think and how they feel…and I simply don’t get it.

I don’t get why people are so afraid,

…until I listen to their stories of horrible judgment and mean-spiritedness.

People on planet earth do and say really mean things TO and ABOUT each other.

This just doesn’t happen on on Nibor and I don’t choose to participate in these customs on earth.

There are several earth customs that I do not understand:

Why do people feel the need for everyone to be the same?

What is wrong with people being different?

On my planet, it is our differences that give us gifts to offer each other.

Why should I be just like you?

I have far more to offer you by being ME.

I notice that with the invention of “NORMAL”, so many people go through life not feeling good enough.

My definition of “Normal” from observation is:

“the constant comparison people make in relationship to other people to decide their own self-worth, self-esteem and self-respect.”

Whose idea was “NORMAL”?!?

How does being “normal” enhance people’s lives and create fulfillment?

On Nibor, people wouldn’t even be able to understand this concept,

which is why I don’t understand it at all…and I don’t believe in it.

Why do people spend their whole lives competing against each other over STUFF???

It’s just STUFF…

…stuff is not even of REAL value…it’s just decoration without substance.

I just DON’T get it!

I may sound nuts right now…

I know I speak Niborian and that is not a commonly used language here on earth.

I don’t expect most people to understand me.

But if you do, you may come from a planet close by and we may share a similar dialect and customs.

People get uncomfortable with me because I am NOT enough like them.

People’s discomfort makes me uncomfortable…

When I am uncomfortable

IT SILENCES ME.

I simply don’t know how to respond to such awkward feelings…so I shrink…and it feels horrible.

Everyone has their own planet that they come from.

“Planet” refers to our own personal space (our alone space) within ourselves that is the seat of our beliefs, ways of thinking, customs, traditions, ways of connecting, values, goals, hopes etc

Some planets (see definition above) are closer to many others and revolve around the same sun (core beliefs, values, etc) together and have a lot more in common…other planets have their own very unique qualities and have much more distance from other planets and have their own star that they revolve around.

I believe my planet, Nibor, has some of ALL of the above…at times it is closer to all the other planets in the universe here on earth…at times it is light years away.

I like to think that all of our planets are consistently evolving, growing and changing as we all move through the universe.

So I’ve grown to believe that there are times when we have more closer connections and times of more distance and we feel alone in the universe.

Thinking in these terms makes me not feel so lonely…I accept there is just a lot of space in the universe between my planet and other planets similar to mine.

If you feel like you are from another planet.

I want you to know…

You are not alone.

Hiding Under The Bed

By Robin Mohilner

October 28, 2002

I used to hide in the mysterious dark of hidden treasures with all of the monsters that haunted my dreams.  I was determined to face the monsters in the daylight, by hiding with them under my bed.  One day I hid under my bed for three hours.  I didn’t find any monsters.  But I did find toys that were once loved that had gone forgotten.  I found the missing Legos and Barbie doll heads.  I found the food that I spilled in the crack between the bed and the wall.  Of course I was surrounded by all of the dirty socks and underwear that I threw under the bed…I liked to use those as puppets when I hid.  My mom tried to convince me that my dirty clothes became monsters at night so that I would clean my room.  I decided to prove her wrong by leaving all of my dirty clothes all over the room.  Yeah, I showed her, I stopped believing in monsters after that one.

She wasn’t very happy about that and that’s why I was hiding under the bed for so long.  She got so mad at me for throwing my dirty clothes around the room that she yelled at me in a way I was not accustomed.  She used words like “shit” and “God damn it what the hell is wrong with you.”  She did not care about me overcoming the monsters. But she did make me feel so sad.  I felt as though she didn’t love me anymore.  So when she punished me to stay in my room for an hour with no toys I decided that I was going to run away.  I was a smart six year old, I thought of the consequences of running away.  I didn’t run away for two reasons: I didn’t have a stick and I didn’t have a red and white pocka-dot cloth to wrap my clothes in.  I made the decision to pretend to run away.  That is how I decided to hide under my bed.

I hid under my bed for a long time waiting for my mother to worry and panic.  I wanted her to feel bad for yelling at me.  In reality I needed to know that she still loved me.  She never came looking for me.  Three hours went by and she never once called for me.  Then I suddenly heard the front door slam shut.  She left the house.  She forgot about me.  I went running out from under my bed, but she was gone.  I was home alone for two hours (really 30 minutes) crying.  All I wanted to know was that my mom still loved me even though she was mad at me.  What I believed was that she didn’t care and had forgotten about me.  When my mom returned home I broke out in uncontrollable tears crying, “You don’t love me anymore!”  She took me in her arms and said, “Robin, I will always love you.  My little girl, I was working in the yard.”  I asked her why she didn’t come searching for me.  She said, “I know you…I knew you were playing under the bed.  I knew that it would be a lot smarter to let you come out when you get tired of hiding, than to go under there with you and try to drag you out.