sanesideout

  • Haven’t won, Haven’t Lost

    Haven’t won, Haven’t Lost

    I realize no one wants to hear the negativity or the complaining, but it does help some of us relate and selfishly it can be really cathartic. I realize its hard to hear or comprehend or understand. Its hard to take in. I understand what it does to people to hear something so ugly. I’m…

  • circular suicide.

    circular suicide.

    This video is very important and I love it. (all credit to THE RSA and Brene Brown) I disappeared. I stopped writing. I was going through one of those hopeless periods where I couldn’t wait to die. I hated the last week or so. I hated everyone. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so much…

  • Waves and envelops

    Waves and envelops

    A loud panic wraps me. It’s so so loud. It’s deafening. A panic that says nothing will ever be good again. “You’ve had the best you’ll ever have, everything from here on out will be impossible to live with.” It’s the slipping away of everything good. It’s the shadow coming over me and trying to…

  • I hate myself for being such a hypocrite.

    I hate myself for being such a hypocrite.

      **I recognize the hypocrisy soaking in this. I hate myself for posting it; but this is my brain and how it works. This is what my version of my mental illness looks like.   I won’t post this, but I want to make sure I remember it and document it. Its honest and I…

  • Documenting for the sake of talking about “me”

    Documenting for the sake of talking about “me”

    Defiant and motivated. Unstoppable. This is the beginning of a manic phase for me. I feel it coming on and they always start the same. Me against the world and I like it. I can take on anything and everything and nothing will stand in my way. I enjoy these periods no matter how short…

  • forgetting how to breathe

    forgetting how to breathe

    Let’s talk about suicide. More specifically, suicide notes. I’ve left them everywhere. I’ve written them and hidden them in my house, on my computer, in my email, on my phone, in my notebooks, on random pieces of paper… Everywhere. I’ve never talked about that until now. I’ve written them for different reasons, always hoping it’s…

  • I used to fancy myself a poet.

    I used to fancy myself a poet.

    As if I’ve melted so many times before, and the shadow following me begs for an instance of recognition.  I’ve waited so long for this and its better than any way you just, oh just… Your very first kiss can’t compare to this, the first time between her thighs couldn’t surprise me more than the…

  • I’m not as important as I sound like I think I am.

    I’m not as important as I sound like I think I am.

    I often wonder if my love for being a dad and my seemingly constant gushing about it is alienating. I’m sure writing about it like I know something is, so here I go… Should I complain more about it? Should I stop telling people how easy I think parenting is? I don’t ever mean it…

  • For my boys. (Let me tell you something about me and your mom.)

    For my boys. (Let me tell you something about me and your mom.)

    I wrote this in late 2015 or early 2016 just before my second son was born, when my wife and I were going through a really hard time in our marriage. My son saw us argue quite a bit and I wanted to make sure they knew it wasn’t ever their fault. I really thought…

  • more or less?

    more or less?

    So, I’ve been holed up in my house for a few days now, not being able to bring myself to run the errands we need to run. My wife knows these days well. She has gotten better over the years of just letting them run their course. There really isn’t anything anyone can do. It’s…