In my Darkest Hours

Make-believe it is what makes it so we can make it through each day.  The lies we tell ourselves.  Our importance, who we are, and the people who will be there for us.  We are connected to so many people; we are related to some and choose others. Often we inflate what we mean to them, we do this based on the good times.  Want to know who you really matter to, be imperfect.  Have problems like the rest of the world.  Watch the fair-weather smiles fade and the radio silence begin.  POOF!
I am not just jaded, I have this hard won knowledge from 20+ years of a chemical imbalance and just being human.  Life is hard enough without gremlins in your brain messing with your emotions and perceptions.  Throw in a really good heart and a want  to truly help people and you have a recipe for the lowest downs in the Bipolar rocket slide of doom.  When you are down you realize no has missed you as you spent a week hidden from the world. I am often sobbing and without hope, ambition, direction, and am so low that it is a chore to get out of bed to use the bathroom.  I at times reach out hoping someone  would care like I would about them.  I would show up help them get out of bed and tell them how much I love, care, and am happy to have them in my life.  Me I lay here sometimes with horrible images and even worse thoughts in my head.  The knowledge no one has noted my absence and if they have they don’t care.  I am alone and alien in a world, that just days ago I fit into.
High school has never ended people never tell you why all of a sudden you went from beloved friend to pariah.  You are never clear what you did wrong.  If it is about it you at all!  Family is no better they can turn you too. Or worse show apathy for the situation.  These are the people contractually obligated to love you.  Where are they?
So when things suck or your life is in pieces the only people there are the ones that really care.  I have 3 or 4 ride and die friends. They are so far away.  Some have change over the years.  Some fell away like the other “grown high schoolers”. Faded Fair-weather smiles. Radio silence commenced.  In the ended I know that there is only a few people that even mourn my absence or even care.  When I am not around my phone is quieter than ever.  No white horses with friends who are happy I am in the world will come through my door.  It leaves me wondering  who will miss me when I am truly gone.
 I still win the fight with the monsters in my head. It is savage and I have no brothers or sisters to call in my darkest hours.  When I reach out into the darkness there is no hand to hold but my demons’.  They are always there and always whispering.