sometimes its nothing at all.
or at least it a p p e a r s that way.
sometimes its a moment of embarrassment or tense situation.
most people having coping mechanisms for this;
I struggle.
It's sometimes a common trigger, a defensiveness I didn't know was burrowed inside me.
or maybe its even the weather, a little gloomy or dark.
sometimes its a sunny day, even.
maybe
maybe
that's why.
that's why it's called bipolar,
because you can't put your damn thumb o n i t &
it just strikes at the most inopportune times.
shakes me to the core.
sends me into the fetal position.
a trance, a look into the distance I can't break.
I lose myself sometimes. I lose my boys.
I lose my touch with reality.
& then there are my A N G E L S.
my mom.
my husband.
my doctor.
The ones that never stop calling or caring.
Individuals who struggle with bipolar are creative pupils, with these hidden talents that we can't even begin to uncover ourselves. We have so much potential to be these majestic creatures of the night and day. I'm tellin' ya, without this illness we would be untouchable.
How do I know? I know because bipolar is not for the faint of heart. We are literal warriors that somehow make it through our hardest days. Those days knock us under water and just when we are about to drown. . . .
we're gasping for air at the surface. and we smile. because that means we are a l i v e.
and I think that's pretty magnificent.
Bipolar thinks it has me figured out, but sometimes I surprise the both of us.
My brain is a beautiful, delicate, thing. And maybe that's what it was:
my mind was too perfect, so God gave me Bipolar. If that's the case, he better have saved me a seat up there with him when I get back there someday.
Here's to being a lotus. Here's to living a n o t h e r day. hour. by. hour.
I will always love you, I will always choose you.
