Dear Innerzone, I really like your post. I appreciate your thanking me for making this thread, too! I totally do. I don't trust anybody either. Except maybe ONE. That's my boyfriend. Lest you think I'm being my formerly naive self about men - trusting them, passionately loving them, while they are treating me like dirt --- my new (4-5 years) b/f is a gem. He proves over and over that he cares about me, and would never pressure me into anything or hurt me in any way. We have never, not ever, yelled at each other. He is a quiet, kind man, and it's such an amazing thing that we have each other. We have a lot in common, things we like and things we do together, and thanks to some miracle, we do not live together. Who knows how much explosiveness there would be if we did! You maybe have read elsewhere here that I've cut my sister out of my life. Mostly I feel indifference toward her, but I am still angry at her.

And speaking of hatred so bad it could lead to involuntary or prison, I used to want to kill one of my husbands. Then I had a dream, see. It went like this. I shoot my husband in the chest. Two police officers come and each takes on arm, and they are leading me off to jail. They are very gentle and kind to me. It's like they understand that I'm in some sort of problem, and pain. Now I am in the prison. I want to wash my hair, so I as the matron where the hair dryers are. It's chilly in there, too. The matron says in a patronizing way -- sounds sorta evil like in a movie -- "There are no hair dryers in PRI....SON..." Then I woke up! Decided not to kill my husband!!!!! LOL I actually don't think I would have done it anyway, although he accused me of wanting to kill him AND he put me in mortal danger more than once AND plotted with to take me out in the forest and leave me there with a bunch of sleeping pills. He wanted to inherit my house, I think.

And by the way -- forgive me if I'm mistaken -- do I denote a bit of bipolar whimsy in your post? That's how a lot of my poetry is -- it's about unpleasant or tragic situations, but it's pretty funny anyway.

I'm learning a song from a singer songwriter I really like. His stuff is tragi-comic, too, if that's the specific word for what he does. The one I'm learning is called "I Love You So Much I Hate Myself."

Here's how one of my poems starts out. The title is "It's": Iti defines bipolar. It's a read-aloud poem -- Say the word "It's" very prominently each time at the beginning of a line.

It’s
It's the body
It's the mind
It's the environment
It's chemicals.
Depends on which era you're in.
It's inherited
It's your upbringing
It's trauma
It's your genitals
Maybe it's caused by sin.
Give her a pill
She's really ill.
Look she's screaming again
Nothing we do
can ever please you
It's starting all over again!

-more- -- is there a bipolar writing, art, poetry etc forum?