Surviving Being a Partner to a Bipolar

Living with a bipolar partner can be very traumatic. All conflicts tend to be extreme. Whatever you are doing is completely wrong. You don’t deserve any credit for anything. No matter what you have done so far is never enough.

Then after that comes the change. She is so sorry for what happened and what she has done. Then there is a slight chance that you can agree on something. This agreement she might keep or not. But the that is s good start.

Once this pattern has repeated itself enough often. One start to adapt and create strategies for handling it. Eventually however it gets you and you can give up talking about your needs since they are not acceptable if he/ she does not feel well or is frustrated for one reason or another. It can be a family quarrel with a mother or something at work. You will have to carry the burden of that by being the target of aggression and merciless criticism for something completely different like putting the children to bed too late or in the “wrong ” way.

The Master Gender

The message is clear

Blunt and brutal

Your time is less worth

Then mine, I make the money

You are just a parasite

Not making any money

You do not matter

Whatever you do it is

Not enough

Only

Me, me, me

And I

Have values and need here

You are my servant

I’m the bossy slave victim

Master of nothing and everything

My flower will never bloom

The Minotaur 

Finalising the unthinkable 

I have become a monster

A Minotaur in his dirty, stinking

Maze

Without entrance and exit

I walk around looking out 

The tiny Windows to see

What is going on in the

Outside world

Hoping, even expecting 

The one day an earthquake 

Will make the walls

Tremble and fall 

More than 4000 years

Have I been waiting

The world has changed

But the tyrants remains

Doing their dirty deed 

In front of me every day

While the water slowly

Grinds the stone

A Slave

I am a slave of humanity

Serving it dearly

While it’s behaving severely

It does not care

It is busy with other things

That’s digging it’s own grave

They dig it here

They dig it there

Now they dig everywhere

Sands of Time — Discover

Sometimes another perspective is necessary in order to understand the world. This place reminds me in an awkward way of the far north. Places with only snow and no trees, windy stretches of roads often clogged by snow dunes up to five meters.

 

Photographer James Dee Clayton travels across Morocco, across the tallest dunes of the Sahara Desert.

via Sands of Time — Discover

Turncoat

I am a turncoat

Turning me

And my coat

For Every vim of mankind

Floating around like an

Amoeba in the sea of

High morale ground

You can’t grasp me or catch me

Because my substance is

Nothingness