I am speaking to my future me.

You love your wife, Adyson.

I know when the demons come back with more force than the last time, this thought enters your mind:

"Divorce your wife, this is unhealthy."

The truth is, you're unhealthy. I know it's raw, but it's the truth. You are too consumed with yourself to even know the difference.

You see, at this close of 2017 you looked to your right and told her:

"I am happy."

See, you're happy because she's the only one you have that truly understands you. How do I know?

Take a good guess, I know you can do it.

I'm guessing there's a good chance that she's feeling exactly the same way, or worse.

You're taking a trip right now. You're stable tonight. Addy is stable tonight. You're driving to Keith's (or writing here on these pages mucking up your handwriting...) to be with your family and friends. Good friends. Going to get ****-faced and hoping to black out.

And you're blessed to have your soulmatage right next to you, smoking chillum **** and "Natural" American Spirit cigarettes, and sipping on Mtn Dew. It's 2:17am, and you're about to ride the Music Express because it is picking up speed. No sleep for you tonight.

Your mind is not clear. Next time you think to divorce your wife, hold onto that thought, because by doing so, you're giving yourself time. Time is key.

If you feel that you should divorce your wife when you're well enough to have a clear perspective, then maybe you should consider it.

Depression and mixed states will lie to you, insidiously, and without mercy. No mercy.

I'm willing to bet at this point, however, that when your demon is back to sleep, if only for a minute, you'll only have to  look to your left while in bed in order to cultivate your prior burning love for her.

For she loves you and you love her ... to death, even beyond your current living death. Rest assured, my good man, that it will end. Just give it time.

Take a break. Go to sleep. Turn off your life for a moment, it'll help. The decision to take your pills is up to you, but consider taking them, too. They will probably help.

Don't forget to hug your wife though.

Good night.

Dear Beebabe,

I know you're not feeling well
The torrent of your own mind can become
The dagger that slices you and makes you frail
But it will end soon, then you'll hum
To find that you never really left home

And when that day arrives
I'll be by your side
And then you'll ask, where did I get these knives?
And then I'll say, they came from the wide
Hole in your mind

When you're recovered
You won't remember the day
That these knives did more than smothered
The bright flame that makes you sway
Your hips when you're feeling gay

The slits in your consciousness
Won't compare to the inner you
That resides in my blessedness
You will ask, why did you allow me to chew
On my beebro? Dear, you seem so renewed!

I'll reply, because even though
You're not my flesh and bone
You're own love for me saw me through
The weeks you sat on depression throne
I knew that one day you'll find your way home

That you never did leave.
I saw you through these hard times
Because I knew your mind would cleave
To see my own heart and soul chime
In the tune that makes you mine.

And mine you are
And shall never not be
Because you mean more to me
Than my very own bare
Heart, soul, and mind
Given solely to us, the beebro three

I'll hear you say, I'm soory
I didn't mean to make you woory
I guess I just choose my own folly
That bittersweet throne, golly!
I'll say, dear, miss molly

Tonight we take the trolley
Climb aboard, we'll go rolling
Through the hills to make you see fully
And not pretend we represent Fern Gully
And you'll see that depression is just a bully

That in the end, will never,
Ever,
Change the you inside

Live in your moment now.
Your mind will heal tomorrow.

But for today rest in the knowledge
That I've also been through the sludge

Today I just hope to be
The bright light for you

That you miraculously were for me.

With love and compassion,
Signed therein:

Me, your soulmatage.