Sometimes, I feel that I censor my blog too much. Try to keep the readers happy, you know? Fill them with words of inspiration, of strength, of hope... But that's not true to life, not for me. I have Bipolar II Disorder, so my moods fluctuate. I might be on top of the world, full of dreams and ambition, thrilled just to be alive... Only to fall abruptly down to earth, where I lie beaten, alone, and bloody as hell.
Just last week, I wrote that dreams never die. I wrote about new goals I was setting for myself. I wrote about hope for the future, and a desire to make my dreams come true. This week, I write about defeat. About giving up. About despair.
It can happen in the blink of an eye. A rose-colored world goes dark, and, all at once, everything that shone in the sun is now masked in darkness. All I see is blackness, and all I feel is the cold enveloping me. I want to push myself, to dream big, to pursue greatness... But I feel like a complete and utter failure at all aspects of life. I lose all self-confidence, all hope, all will to go on. I simply go through the motions of life as dictated by C's schedule. I get up to put her on the bus to school, and I get her off the bus. I feed her, I bathe her, I hold her... But I feel so incredibly alone. It's all a charade. I can't connect with her, because I feel like I've been cut off from myself. I can't FEEL anything that isn't dark and gloomy.
I know, intellectually, that things will get better. That this can only last a week or two, that the drugs I take at night will counteract the chemical changes in my brain, that the heart is just an organ pumping blood through your body and not the seat of emotion. You can't die of a million heartbreaks; they're all in your mind. You just have to struggle through until the lights come back on. And the lights always come back on. If they don't, I just go to the doctor and get another pill. It's easy, really. It's a game of endurance.
But here I am, at the beginning of the game, just setting out on my dark path back toward the light... And it all seems so far away, well beyond my reach. Dreams are a thing of the past, because I can't afford them anymore. Hope is useless; it doesn't make the journey any shorter or less arduous. I can't even muster a smile.
Perhaps the only good to come of this is that I can't seem to force myself to eat. Makes dieting and losing weight that much easier... So perhaps I'll make a little progress on that goal to lose 30lbs. Without love and inspiration to drive me, I sure as hell won't make any progress toward putting myself on stage, but I would probably wither in the heat of the spotlight at this point. No, I just need to stick to the shadows, lurk in the darkness, and push through until everything shifts back toward a life worth living. A life that WILL return... Eventually.