Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
I didn’t see that when I was standing on the edge of the roof.
The bird convinced me she was better off without me, and that I could take care of her better from somewhere above.
Even though I’ve known for a long time the bird doesn’t exist, there have been moments of exception when he broke through the wall of reality and was real.
Now with the right meds tweaking my brain, the bird is gone. I thought I would miss him, but I don’t. I miss the real bird—the tiny blue pet bird that kept me company when I was a little kid. The bird whose feather I wear. But I don’t miss the bird that was in my mind that gave a voice to my illness.
I miss my ladybug. I miss her beautiful bluish-green eyes and the way her honey hair moves like silk over her thin shoulders. I miss her giggle and her smile and the way she purrs like a kitten when my hands and mouth are on her. Mostly I miss how she loves me the way I need to be loved.
Ladybug,
Your letter was like a light thrown to me in a dark tunnel. It helped me get through some of the hardest steps that I wasn’t sure I could take.
There’s so much I want to say to you. My mind is jumbled but not in the fucked-up way it used to be. I have bouts of clarity I’ve never felt before. Words and thoughts come at me now at lightning speed. It’s overwhelming. Before, everything was always muddy and slow. I had to dig through it all to find and understand my own thoughts. Some days, I’m completely exhausted, but in a different way than I used to be. I feel clear and happy one day and sluggish and moody the next. The doctor says I’ll level out and things won’t always feel this way, but you’re right, a new version of me could emerge from this and I can only hope that you’ll still feel the same way about me. Right now I honestly don’t know who’s living in my head.
Before I keep rambling about all sorts of shit, I love you. I love you so damn hard and I’m so fucking sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or Lyric. Reece told me Lyric doesn’t know what I did. I wish she would never have to know but I also think she needs to know. I’ll leave it up to you on when and how you want to tell her. You can tell her, or I can tell her, or we can tell her together. I only want her to be okay and not be hurt or scared by what I’ve done. I hope she can forgive me. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you both how much I love you and appreciate you. I’ll never hurt either of you again. That much I do know for sure.
I know I severed our trust. I don’t expect you to let that go easily and I don’t want you to. We have a long road in front of us, but we’ve been down long bumpy roads before and I hope we can get to the end of this one together. I can’t do it without you. Please keep wearing my ring. I’m still hoping we can get our happy ending.
I never told you I went to a regular doctor on the road and got meds for anxiety and depression and insomnia. I thought it would chill me out so I could enjoy more of our wedding and not feel so distracted in my head. I didn’t know the wrong meds could make me worse. Apparently neither did he. I could feel my head getting worse but I didn’t know how to stop it. So, I took more pills. I guess Ellie was right and it’s good this happened because I never knew what was wrong with me. I just thought I was different, confused, eccentric, depressed, and basically fucked up. I drank and did drugs because I didn’t know how else to deal with how I felt inside or how to make it stop. Now I know what’s wrong with me has a label. Several. Bipolar, depression, personality disorder, dissociative, hypomania. I forget the rest, but that’s enough. My entire life I lived in this crazy abyss of emotions, voices, and confusion. I tried to exist in a world where others couldn’t see or hear things the same way I did. Now I have to try to sort it all out and find who I am in this when the dust settles. Some days I worry my ass off. What if I’m too different? What if you don’t like me? What if Lyric doesn’t like me? What if all my creativity is gone? What if I can’t write or play guitar anymore? What if I feel like a zombie all the time? What if the bird comes back?