We are family

My family has known that I'm poly for a long while. When I was 28 though, I came out as bisexual. I was in my first triad; my mom was not thrilled about this and at the time she thought that I was dating R and R was dating our then girlfriend A.  The only reason I even told her was because A, who had not yet shown herself to be a problem had played an instrumental part in getting me the psych help that I needed. I  had gone through a particularly bad depression. I was sitting in the hospital, on the phone with my mom when I said, "So, you know how R is dating A?" She sighed and said "yes." and then I came out with it. "Well, so am I." her response was "Well...that is something you will have to discuss in therapy." CLICK.

To be entirely honest, I did not have the best family life growing up. My mom decided that this was the reason I am poly, because I had such a shitty childhood that I am trying to recreate a better family dynamic. R had a fabulous family life though, so whatever. Then she proceeded to tell me that we aren't a 'real' family.

Anyhow, I just want to take this moment to say that I DO have an amazing little poly family with K and R and even though it might not be the normal way to go about having a family, I'm very happy with the way things have turned out for us. We are all so very happy together, and we are a family.

In the comments below feel free to tell me how your family has reacted to you coming out as lgbt or poly. 

*~*~*Slutty Heart*~*~*

Short and sweet

Today K got to come home from the psych hospital, she seems to feel so much better, and I love to hear all the hope in  her for her future and being well and love and gush and sqee!

Ahem, I must compose myself.

Anyhow, I feel like this experience has strengthened our little triad. We went through a rough first month of living together, but it was good at the same time. It's difficult to describe, the way we on one hand watched her cycle between deteriorating and stable and manic to a full blown, "time to call a mobile unit to the house and take her away."  Going on a two-hour ride out to the hospital to see her dumb cute face that I missed so much.

The ride up was stressful. Before we left I was snapping at R badly and just kind of being a bitch in general, it took a good couple of hours before I realized I was dreading the hospital trip. But it was okay, once we got there I honed in and focused on K and how she felt that I didn't have time to think about all of my time with past hospitalizations. That made me feel good. That I was so present in that moment of wanting to be there for her, that I could put my anxieties and fears and weird hospital ptsd shit to bed for an hour or so to be a comfort to her made me feel good. I knew, that moment that I could handle it...then on the way home I heard Unconditionally, and talked to R about how I felt, and that was it. We had sealed the deal. I would tough it out.

Now she is home though, and I want to go snuggle with her so I'll keep tonight's entry short and sweet.

*~*~*Slutty Heart*~*~*

Feeling a little unwell

This weekend has been trying. Some back story:

K and I are both bipolar. I have been stable for about six years, out of the hospital the entire time. Prior to 2005, I had nearly a dozen hospitalizations. K is as I mentioned before, 13 years my junior. We were both diagnosed at a young age, but she is...still young. When we met, she wasn't on medication and was not in therapy. She had been in the past but then lost her insurance and thought she could handle it on her own.

Fast forward to this past weekend. She is experiencing a mixed episode; depressed mood and the energy of mania. A mixed episode is a very dangerous time for someone with bipolar disorder. She is suicidal and doesn't know why. Everything in her life is going amazingly well, and she just can't shake the intrusive suicidal obsession that is plaguing her. She's talking about suicide with a calm sort of distance to it. As if she's discussing the way she will fold her laundry and put it away later that evening. Maybe she will buy a syringe and inject bleach into her veins. Maybe she will down a bottle of my anti-psychotic medication and chase it with a bottle or two of my anti-depressants and sleeping pills. There wasn't much of this talk before we got her help.

Now, sadly, she is inpatient in a psychiatric hospital. We love her too much to let her suffer and worry too much to leave her home alone while we work, and she avoids life, here in our home...with nothing but thoughts of suicide to keep her company.

I have been in this place. It's destroying me that she has to be there too. I have hope for her though that like me she will find something that works, she will find a way to make herself well again. We will someday be well together, and we won't even look back at those frenzied years we escaped, we will only look forward, to our future together, and all that wellness will bring us.

*~*~*~Slutty Heart~*~*~*