Love in a bipolar world

After one marriage and several bad relationships, I really suck at this love thing. Example: When I lived in Dallas, I met this woman 18 years my senior.

OK, quick version of the setup: On our first date she told me later that no one had looked at her the way I did in a long time. She had been married for 26 years and been separated for 3 years. We fell in love, madly in love. Our passion was intense, like a rush of euphoria sparked by hard-core lust.

Five months later, we had a falling out and she buys a gun. Never mind what I did to make her do that, that part is not important. OK, maybe it is important to disclose why she bought the gun, I have to be honest, right?

We were already arguing about something and I had threatened to kick down her door if she didn’t come to Wichita like we had planned, where I was preforming at a comedy club. Of course I wouldn’t have kicked down her door but she took the threat seriously and who could blame her? But the incident that brought this crashing down was on her birthday.

We were on vacation in Key West when she received an email from my ex-girlfriend. My ex tells her we had been together in the past five months. My older woman lover puts off the breakup until we return home. For three days she put on her pretend face until the plane landed at Love Field in Dallas. (Writing this is making me realize I’m a real a—hole and I’m embarrassed to admit it!)

She tells me in a text message, she has notified the Dallas D.A.’s office to obtain a restraining order, later I found out the D.A. did not give her one because I had not done anything to warrant a protective order, despite the threat of kicking down the door. But nonetheless, I was under the current impression I am supposed to stay away from her by law. Telling someone with bipolar that you have a restraining order on them is like lighting a firecracker under a sleeping tiger.

She also calls her friends in the State Legislators office to let them know what is going on (she has friends in high places because of her political contributions.)

A week of heartache passes, I feel like my insides are bleeding and all of my own doing. I have a talent for being able to hurt myself better than anyone. Night after night I heavily medicate to help cope with the self-inflicted hole in my chest.

I missed her and just wanted to talk to her face-to-face. My highs and lows are all over the scale, I am going out of my mind.  I take the train to her condo in uptown Dallas.  Her car is not in the carport so I wait for her across the street, out of immediate view … for five hours. I know that sounds a little obsessive but I just wanted to talk her.

My plan was to approach her at a distance, if she didn’t want to talk (outside in public view) I would just turn around and walk away, end of story … until the next day I would probably try again. I am watching all the street angles, constantly looking in all directions for her car.

After a while a storm moves in, so I take cover under her front door area to her condo. Oh great, I am wet and standing in front of her door looking like Robert De Niro in Cape Fear.  If she drove up now this would not help my chances of getting to talk to her.

Time passes and so does the storm, but the storm inside my head still spits fury and fear! She does not show up, I have the feeling she is not in town. I take the train back home, hurting so bad every breath is painful.  I am the sad clown walking down the street with his head hung low, dragging his heart on the ground behind him.

Later that night I checked her Facebook and found that my intuition was right, she had left town for Corpus Christi, Texas and posted pictures of her new weapon and the target sheet at the firing range. Later she told me those pictures were purposely posted as a warning to me.

Oh yeah, I’ve played with the Queen of Hearts … and it almost got me shot! Despite my emotional condition, I have to get mentally prepared for some comedy shows that weekend in Beaumont, Texas. You will definitely want to check out my next article to read what happens in Beaumont!

Writing this article was an unexpected therapeutic reflection of my emotions charged by my Bipolar. I am not using it as an excuse but only recognizing my condition and coming to terms with myself. I want to change and to stop the molestation by the demons of self-pity.

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” – Plato

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I live with bipolar, I will purposely leave out the word disorder.  My fellow “Bipolarians” and I feel and think more deeply than your so-called normal people and our emotions are more intense. I guess that is why I am able to get up on stage and make strangers laugh at comedy clubs around the country.  If you suffer from bipolar there is help available, visit  http://www.internationalbipolarfoundation.org/getting-help-bipolar-disorder or  check out your local county hospital system.