My life can be so painful sometimes that it manifests itself physically. I cannot go through one single day without thinking about dying or hurting myself in some way. I don't know what causes it, but I do know that I don't ever recover. I constantly go through this. I cannot shake it. I've tried everything I can think of throughout my life to find happiness.

Having kids really showed me what true happiness can be. I never knew what happiness was until I held those precious babies for the first time. They have made me smile an honest smile, not the fake one I tend to give the rest of the world. I love them with every fiber of my soul and I will for all time. They have taught me the importance of finding a way to get better, so that they can have the loving devoted father I should be for them. My only problem is that I have to get better without them knowing anything is wrong. Children are very receptive to problems with their parents, and my kids are no exception. Plus, they are reaching the age where they will start to remember many things. I can't allow them to see me struggling with wanting to live and expect them to retain their innocent view of the world. I have tried many ways of hiding it from them, but it all came to a head when my six-year-old daughter (the youngest) saw me bawling my eyes out in my room. She asked me, "What's wrong Daddy?" I tried to come up with a good reason as to why her big, strong Daddy was crying but all I could say was, "I don't know Princess". She stayed with me for a while then left. When she came back she had made me a card that said:




With as sad as I was feeling this sent me over the edge. I cried and cried and she just sat with me to help me feel better. She did a really good job of it too, but how will that affect her in the future? Is she now going to feel a drive to find a husband that needs her to support him? I don't want her to be married to a guy like me. She deserves better than someone with problems like I have because all it will do is cause her pain.

My son (who is seven) doesn't deal with me very well when I am extremely depressed. He will actually cry with me. He doesn't know why he's crying he just does. This really hurts because I'm worried that he will be like me. I really hope he doesn't have my problems. I've been told that Bipolar Disorder is hereditary. I know my Dad is normal, so I'm pretty sure I get it from my Mom. I just pray I don't pass it on to either of my kids.