Sometimes when I awaken in the gray light of sleep leaving and the warmth of dawn, I know my life is a gift and a blessing. A thought will bring me back to a happy time. I feel my heart lift and stretch like a bird longing for the sky.
Sometimes when the day is gray and cold, I stretch myself between sleeping and waking, between conciousness and the soft hands of slumber.
Sometimes when I view my scars, I touch them gently and shed the tears that I've held too long. When the veil between now and then falls away I can reclaim my heart that I've hidden so deeply.
Sometimes I know without a doubt that I am loved and that what happened to me did not defeat me. That I will live long enough to learn to love again.
Sometimes comes more often now.
February 21, 2012
Sans Meds
I've been told that this bipolar thing didn't happen suddenly. I've spent years living with the symptoms that are like....well....like my personality. According to the experts, hyperness is a symptom. They say I'll feel better, but never be better. That I have to take medication for the rest of my life. Can you imagine?
There's no blood test, no x-ray or CT scan, no MRI....nope. They ask me questions. I answer to the best of my recollection and there you go....I am the fine new owner of a mental illness.
Have I had pyschotic episodes? Yep....or I just have an in with, you know.....the "other" world that you don't get to see. You have to be special to see it. You know...like me.
I digress.
Wanting to learn everything is a symptom. So is wanting to write everything, restlessness,racing thoughts, insomnia, pacing, standing outside in storms....all symptoms of my manic states. So what's left that is me?
I've tried to find out with the medication. And then I'm in limbo, in the land of the mundane getting fatter and lazier as these drugs wreck my body to save my mind. I feel like I need a t-shirt that says, "failure to thrive". The drugs keep me from thinking what my brain wants to think. I wonder how soon a bipolar brain sans meds begins to make up its own rules. I wonder if I'll notice.
There's no blood test, no x-ray or CT scan, no MRI....nope. They ask me questions. I answer to the best of my recollection and there you go....I am the fine new owner of a mental illness.
Have I had pyschotic episodes? Yep....or I just have an in with, you know.....the "other" world that you don't get to see. You have to be special to see it. You know...like me.
I digress.
Wanting to learn everything is a symptom. So is wanting to write everything, restlessness,racing thoughts, insomnia, pacing, standing outside in storms....all symptoms of my manic states. So what's left that is me?
I've tried to find out with the medication. And then I'm in limbo, in the land of the mundane getting fatter and lazier as these drugs wreck my body to save my mind. I feel like I need a t-shirt that says, "failure to thrive". The drugs keep me from thinking what my brain wants to think. I wonder how soon a bipolar brain sans meds begins to make up its own rules. I wonder if I'll notice.
February 20, 2012
Raw - present day
I don't know what's worse. Being overmedicated or feeling so raw that every sideways look, unusual tone, kind word or gentle rebuke makes me cry. I guess, for now, I'll take the emotions.
My dark mood worries me. There's this voice that speaks to me and tries to tell me things. I try to block it out. Sometimes I even cover my ears and hum, but it's still in my head. There's no running from it.
You probably don't know this, but madness will push you anywhere it wants. It never tells you where you're going or why. It tells you it doesn't matter. It persuades you. It dangles something in front of you, shimmering like a water patch on the road up ahead.
My dark mood worries me. There's this voice that speaks to me and tries to tell me things. I try to block it out. Sometimes I even cover my ears and hum, but it's still in my head. There's no running from it.
You probably don't know this, but madness will push you anywhere it wants. It never tells you where you're going or why. It tells you it doesn't matter. It persuades you. It dangles something in front of you, shimmering like a water patch on the road up ahead.
February 19, 2012
Darkness - Journal entry from April 2010
I feel it building, always trying to break out. Everything seems too tame. I feel alone and raw. Don't rest! Not even for a minute; or face living under scorn. So,I curl under the broken shelf of confusion, struggling with the inner girl.
Is there a tunnel to freedom? Is it all just self-inflicted pollution? Will it really end in the cold binding shackles of conformed lies? Wishing for moments of contentment, free from the constant anxiety. Sustained happiness is a fairy tale, but moments would give life a chance.
I feel that time. When I crawled, fumbling on my hands and knees, bleeding--trapped by painful, crushing gasps of air--knowing that any last glimmers of hope for the future were dead, cold--gone.
Is there a tunnel to freedom? Is it all just self-inflicted pollution? Will it really end in the cold binding shackles of conformed lies? Wishing for moments of contentment, free from the constant anxiety. Sustained happiness is a fairy tale, but moments would give life a chance.
I feel that time. When I crawled, fumbling on my hands and knees, bleeding--trapped by painful, crushing gasps of air--knowing that any last glimmers of hope for the future were dead, cold--gone.
Excerpts from March 2010
1) I'm so confused. Words strike at my heart even while my brain is trying to understand. I look around me and wonder, "When did it all start to go so wrong?" Was our whole marriage a lie? When the children are gone to his house-that sounds so strange, I awaken in the night and the emptiness is suffocating.
2)One page at a time is filled with my words...my words. No one else can claim them. One day there will be an end. One page not written, left blank. Some days these words are my only comfort. Not an escape...it never allows me to escape...but a place to put down the words that are racing in my mind.
3)No dreams tonight, only nightmares. I'm too unsettled to go back to sleep. I've checked on the children. I've swept through the house turning on lights and re-checking locks. Everything seems as it should, but the images were sharp this time. They'll not be easily filed away. The shadows and shapes may be in my head, but they're real. Lying back, visions of the past won't fade because the darkness is in me, not just a product of the night.
Beautiful Women
I never fully experienced the beauty of the body of Christ until the last two years. I didn't let anyone in before. I felt damaged and deficient,for reasons I haven't yet disclosed. I still do. But women who love me have cared for me in so many ways when I literally couldn't manage alone. With no hesitation, no judgement.
I almost said countless ways, but to be accurate, I can count them. Most of them. Their acts of selfless love stand out in my mind and their stories merge with mine on the pages of my journals. You ladies know who you are.I hesitate to use your names on my blog without your permission.
Except Tory. I know Tory won't mind. She is the sister I never had...until I did...in her.
The precious gift of your willing hearts and open hands has changed me in ways I am only now beginning to realize.
I almost said countless ways, but to be accurate, I can count them. Most of them. Their acts of selfless love stand out in my mind and their stories merge with mine on the pages of my journals. You ladies know who you are.I hesitate to use your names on my blog without your permission.
Except Tory. I know Tory won't mind. She is the sister I never had...until I did...in her.
The precious gift of your willing hearts and open hands has changed me in ways I am only now beginning to realize.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)