Those questions radiate within me. They are sometimes soft echoes and other days are torrential storms that keep me inside my own head. Storm clouds on the horizon. And without some serious intent (followed by action) each day, I succumb. I dive. I fall. And the meds just aren’t enough. They buffer and help contain, but it still takes my own self, in various ways to push me out of bed. Does this resonate with any of you?
I’m not sayin that you HAVE to have these struggles. But if you do, you’ll get it. If you don’t, I’d like to share my own insights on the mind of the mentally ‘challenged’. And aren’t we all a little f*cked up at times?
I have a pattern I fall into on good days. Eyes open. Music playing in my head (anything from Taylor Swift to Peter Gabriel to Foo Fighters). I get up, fix my coffee, and if you know me a little then you know I don’t really like to SPEAK to anyone, for fear of ripping them a new one, until I’ve had my coffee. Just a sip to know that there is something good and caffeinated in the universe!
Then I settle down to take a few minutes – what I’ve started to realize is a reflection of where I’m at and what the day holds. Sometimes faith, sometimes just the plan for the day. Sometimes the haze takes a little longer to wear off. But if I get those moments, then I seem to find a better focus. A better understanding of me, the day, and purpose. And it varies, but the days I take the time are precious and seem to have more certainty and movement.
On not-so-good days I ache. Not necessarily a physical ache, but an ache of my spirit battling the demons inside and my own wishes to not have to do this again. Not wanting to try. To bury my head in the pillow and wallow. I wallow for a while. But I don’t want to be this way. I want to be what others call normal. But this is my normal. My attempts to be like those who easily get out of bed and face each day often fail. I realize my normal consists of a struggle within, a mental and spiritual one that is painful to talk with around those who don’t know my life. That even those close to me sometimes quietly cringe when I mention it took me THREE HOURS to get going. Not wanting to comprehend the mind of the depressed, the “sick”.
It’s not every day. I have found that there are specific actions I can take to see more good days than the bad, painful ones.
Call it prayer, meditation, thoughtfulness, whatever – but the moments that I spend in the morning are echoed at night. I try to go to sleep with a few moments without the ‘noise’. And each night, I embrace ONE GOOD THING that I hope to do the next day. Something outside myself, because let’s face it, it’s easy to get so caught up on me, me, me, that I can’t even see anything beyond my own path. But we’re here to commune with others. But that doesn’t always mean within the walls of our man-made cathedrals of brick, mortar and steel. We need to help others. To DO GOOD (see previous blog). And in getting my head out of my ass and thinking beyond me, I am able to care, to hope, to love, instead of sinking more into my own grief and pain.
I have hope for each day.
Because whether or not my morning is hard or easy, without a little hope, what’s it all really about?
Thanks, for once again sharing your heart on the printed page. I realize this may be something you do as a release, but it also takes guts my friend. Take care!
ReplyDeleteI do basically the same thing. With the the 3 hours. But I chase the chaos in my head. I wonder why I have to be this way. The difference is most of the time I’m up. I stay manic way more than depressed. But I easily waste 3 hours running in circles in my head. I get upset. I do not want to do it. I’m just tired of being addicted bipolar person. Whose not going to do much of nothing now at 58. I’m filled with if only thoughts at these moments..,if only Id been born first! Lol maybe I’d have a home.
ReplyDelete