I'm swimming alone in a pool of dark water, and feel it pulling me under. I try to yell for help but no one is close enough to hear. I begin to see the water at eye level and I kick and flail, fighting to stay above the darkness.
The darkness won't let go and water fills my lungs.
I stand at the boundary between light and dark. I have neither strength, nor courage. I slip below, undetected by the occupants of the world. I don't want to fight anymore.
February 24, 2012
February 22, 2012
February 21, 2012
Flashback
The house changes from the safe haven I know into a strange, eerily familiar time and place. Visions flicker to my left and then to my right. Footsteps creek. A presence is felt. My heart is hammering and my mind is racing. I talk to myself out loud to remember it's not real. I grab a blanket and crouch in a corner so that no one can sneak up. My skin crawls and panic builds from a slow simmer to a bubbling fury. I flinch at the phantom touch.
Sometimes
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.
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.
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.
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