Todays101

I am tired of being me today.

Oh, my brain. How fickle it is. Today it was against me, every step of the way. From refusing to wake up to an emotional breakdown to end my day, it was my enemy for sure.

I am tired of the self-consciousness that hounds my mind like a coon dog that’s treed it’s prey. The constant nagging on my weight, my skin, my looks in general…..leaves me worn and torn beyond belief. It continues – relentlessly – until my brain believes that every person I come in contact with is judging me just as harshly, if not more so, than I judge myself……

I am tired of being bipolar. Depression and anxiety were not curbed today. Instead they doused my brain with putridness, much like dirty mop water. Due to the imbalanced chemicals, my body and mind tend to create their own worlds for me. Today, the world they created was unkind, and deliberately sabotaged all the work I had put into myself in the past couple of weeks. My mirror became an ungodly tool that broke my spirit as it pointed out the lines and sagging skin. My wardrobe was full of ill-fitting armor that reminded me of my lack of gym attendance and my love of carbs and margaritas. Words spoken by those who care about me all turned to daggers. Daggers with tips dipped in poison of inconsequentiality, causing my emotions to bleed down my cheeks in hot rivers of pain.

I am so tired of myself and todays world. Crashing like waves onto the bow of a ship, the chemicals wreaked havoc, slinging perfectly happy moments to the side and scattering all forms of sanity; leaving me battered and bruised with a headache and tired eyes. Exhausted does not even slightly describe me right now.

I am tired of myself. I’m tired of knowing these things aren’t real, yet falling into Alice’s rabbit hole for days at a time. I’m tired of faking it more than making it and wearing a mask more often than not. I’m tired of medication, meditation, music, and even God not working. I am tired of seeking validation.

I am tired of this episode and actually crave a manic episode, just to feel a little normal again.

So, this is it people. Bipolar depression and anxiety 101. If you love someone who is Bipolar, hug them a little more today, or don’t – which ever they prefer. Be their someone today, even if they don’t need it.

The Dark

It is not the dark allowed by a slow sunset that scares me. It is the dark allowed by ominous clouds that allows no sunlight, no moonlight, and no stars that scares me to my core.

It overshadows me like the blackest ink….. a thick, sticky, seeping darkness that covers my world. It is that darkness, that black ink, that highlights the scarlet in my life. The darkness covers all the colors of the rainbow – except for scarlet. It is as if the scarlet was placed in wax – never penetrated, only magnified.

This darkness brings whirlwinds of words that have been spoken, deeds that have been done, pain, and sorrow. The winds whisper, they beat me, they chafe me. I can not shield myself from them, only succumb to the coarseness as they rip through my world. The darkness only allows for glimpses of scarlet, as I am thrown off balance by the winds.

Will I survive. Should I survive. Do I deserve to survive. They are not questions, they are statements. Statements written in scarlet, written by own hands and hands of others.

Who decides survival? Who decides who is worthy of survival? What is survival if it does not ever lead to life? What is life if it is lived in black and scarlet? Theses are my questions as wind burn stings my skin and pierces my heart.

Yet, I am to walk as though there is illumination. Smile and say that my wind burned skin is actually sun kissed, and my shattered heart is beautiful stained glass. It is expected that I stand tall and proud as the darkness blankets the winds that pick up stones and sling them at my tattered self. It is expected that I proclaim judgement on myself for the sake of others peace. There is no room for regret, remorse, or hurt. Those feelings allow light to penetrate through the darkness, and those who write in scarlet pour the ink as well……

It is this darkness that shrouds my life. It lives and breathes with the names depression and anxiety. It identifies as functioning bipolar.