Darkness

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.

Setbacks

They happen. You can let them get you down, or you can let them push you to try harder to reach your goals.

I was down last night, but today? I'm stronger than ever before. I'm fortified my walls, and I'm not letting anyone in. Life won't get the best of me.

When the Universe Speaks...

When the Universe speaks, LISTEN!

I've been told that time and time again. Life works out the way it's supposed to. You may not realize it now, but you are exactly where you need to be for the rest of your life to move forward the way it's intended. Everything happens for a reason. You are here for a reason, these things are happening to you for a reason, and everything in your past has culminated in this one moment, in which you need to take the initiative to move forward.

It all sounds so neat and tidy, doesn't it? We may have made mistakes, but they brought us to this spectacular present! Or, perhaps the present isn't so sunny, but there's a new dawn on the horizon, and this is where we need to be now so that we can reach that horizon by morning.

For the most part, I believe in all of that. I know some who know me will be surprised, and others will be rolling their eyes at how obvious it is that I buy into this. When you live a life like mine, with the ups and downs that my life has had, you simply must believe there's some order to the chaos. A plan somewhere among the insanity. Some sort of rhyme or reason for what is, what has been, and what will be.

However, despite all of that... What about the future? If the universe has landed us exactly where we need to be now, does that mean it will neatly place us exactly where we need to be in the future? Or must we seek out the future that we want? Choose a goal and work toward it, even if it means fighting tooth and nail? If the Universe speaks to us about opportunities and when to take them, how do we actively listen? How do we distinguish between the voice of Destiny and the voice of our desires? What happens if we miss our cue because we were too busy talking to stop and listen at the right time?

I believe my life has happened for a reason, and all the ups, the downs, the sideways bits, the twists and turns... They've all led me to where I need to be. From here, though, I am faced with choices. With options. With opportunities! I'm halfway through school, meaning I'm halfway to a teaching license and a new career... But I'm hearing the siren song of the stage, beckoning me back. Life is settled and comfortable, but I'm stricken with wanderlust and a thirst for adventure. Do I keep my head down and push forward on the path I've chosen for myself, or is there some wiggle room to follow what sound like voices beyond my mind, beyond the four walls of this house... The voice of the Universe, perhaps? Can I have it all? Has life led me here so that I can have a steady career to grant me the economic freedom to pursue the dreams of my past?

It's so difficult to know what you're supposed to do, especially when what you are doing and what you want to be doing are staring you down, daring you to choose, seemingly at odds with one another... I want to make the right decisions. I want to follow the path that the Universe (be that God, Fate, the planets, or some other force) has laid for me. I want to find myself, in twenty years, exactly where I'm supposed to be.

As for now, I don't have a clue what that means.

Broken

When I think of myself, I don't imagine some run-down, washed-up old woman. Sure, I'm not the vibrant dreamer I was when I was 20, but I haven't aged or fallen apart that much in the past 9 years (oh dear, my birthday's just around the corner now!). I see myself as a positive thinker, a strong woman, a mother, a friend, a wife. I see myself as someone who can weather any storm, and who has seen quite a few. I'm a fighter, although I'll never go looking for one. I'm a fixer, although I can't fix myself. I see myself as many things, and most of them are positive, but the one word that never changes is broken. I see myself as broken.

I've been broken for longer than I've been able to (legally) drink. Broken since long before I cast my first ballot in an election. Broken almost since I started to drive. I can hardly remember a time when I was whole...

Damaged goods.

I used to think someone would come along and patch me up, good as new. Some kind of hero would whisk me away, and life would be a fairy tale, fully of happily ever after. I thought someone would make the pain go away. Someone would shine a light into all the darkness and let in the sun forever. That never happened. That never will happen. It's a childhood fantasy. I'm a broken woman, and I always will be a broken woman. I'm okay with that.

Because, despite being broken, I've managed to piece together a pretty great life for myself. I have friends, I have family, I have people who love me and whom I love. I have dreams (still!), I have goals, I have drive. I have the determination to make it through every day and see through to the next. I have a daughter, a child, a little life who relies on me for her everything. And, broken as I may be, I give her everything. Everything I have, and more. I gave her life, and I will give her love until the end of time.

I may be broken. I'll always be broken, I'm sure... But that sure hasn't held me back yet!

I Have Decided.

Therefore, it must be so.

I will lose 30lbs.

I will get my voice back in shape.

I will be in a stage production of some sort.

All of this will occur by December 31, 2013. If not, the entire internet will laugh at me. Or just the 20 or so of you who regularly read my ramblings. ;)

It shall come to pass!!

Dreams Never Die

Dreams never die. They may be forgotten for a time, but they live on, indefinitely, until the time comes for the heart to remember. Dreams never die.

Sometimes, it's easy to forget that I once had huge dreams. Like, ENORMOUS dreams. I was going to be a star! I was going to make a living on the stage, live my life as hundreds of different characters in different cities around the globe, become someone else for a few hours every night, and bring joy and perspective to those who came out to see me perform. I had DREAMS.

Then I had a child. Moreover, I had a child with special needs. A child who needs a dedicated team of medical specialists nearby to monitor her progress regularly. A child who needs extra attention, extra help, and structure to her life, more so than some other children. A child who can't be packed up and carted around the country with a touring troupe, or bounced around from apartment to apartment, city after city, without a single home to call her own. A place to grow and thrive. A life that I could never give her if I continued down a path toward the wild and crazy dreams of my young adulthood...

So, my dreams shifted. I dreamed new dreams: dreams of special schools, of helping children, of developmental milestones being reached and tiny smiles on my little one's face. Dreams of her first spoken words, the ability to potty train, walking distances without leg braces, telling me she loves me, her falling in love, her going to college, her falling in love and starting a family of her own... Dreams that are easily as grand and enormous as my dreams of stardom, but in very different ways. Dreams that are just as difficult to achieve as my earlier dreams. Selfless (or mostly selfless) dreams for my child's well-being. Those are the dreams I dream now.

However, even as I dream these new dreams, as I spend my days and nights working toward them, as I go to school in furtherance of them, as I devote my time and energy and heart to that little girl who needs me for so very much, I haven't lost sight of the old dreams. They haven't died. They haven't vanished. They've simply been buried somewhere deep beneath the surface... From time to time, they dig themselves out of their shallow grave, because I can tell myself I have killed them, but they never truly die. They are immortal, and, at times, they are stronger than I. These dreams have a life of their own, and they yearn to be realized. Perhaps they've matured with time, and they've narrowed the scope of their ultimate goals a little. Perhaps New York City and national touring companies are no longer a part of the dream... But the stage is still there. The lights, the greasepaint, the proscenium, the audience... Those things crave realization. They haunt me, and they call to me at night, when the lights are out, when I'm drifting off to sleep and my heart and mind are at their most vulnerable. They whisper in my ear, and they encourage me to seek out auditions, to go to karaoke, to do anything and everything I can to be in the spotlight once again, if only for a brief moment in time.

Dreams never die. They may be forgotten for a time, but they live on, indefinitely, until the time comes for the heart to remember.

Dreams never die.

I'm Still Here

I've been pretty quiet as of late. C's doing well, Hubby's doing well, and I'm wrapping up the loose ends on this semester of school. There's not much to report, and, as a wise blogger advised me when I first began this venture, "Don't blog unless you have something to say."

I'm out of therapy for PTSD. The EMDR seems to have been incredibly effective, and, while my triggers still exist and prompt some anxiety, they are no longer debilitating. I have found the strength and power to walk away from drunk, aggressive men in bars. I am no longer experiencing flashbacks. I have been regularly messaging someone whose very name was a trigger for nearly a decade, and I can say that name without flinching (although I'm not entirely sure if I could handle hearing the name spoken just yet). Most importantly, while I'm still carrying my pepper spray in case of emergency, I no longer grip it tightly when I leave the house. I'm no longer watching my street for my former stalker's car. I no longer fear public places in town because he might show up. Truth be told, I don't even think about him anymore, unless it's as part of a reflection on how far I've come. He has officially lost any power over me.

I've made a new friend who lives a few hours away, but she travels to the area at least once a month for work. We've been chatting and texting for a while, and she's going to be in town this weekend. We have plans for lunch and shopping, dinner with Hubby and C, and even for C and me to stay with her when we go out to Shriner's in a couple of weeks for C's next scoliosis or spina bifida clinic (for the life of me, I can't remember which one this is). It's nice to have a new friend, even if she is a little bit far away. I'm not done shopping for new friends--especially friends who live nearby and are available to hang out more frequently--but I feel a sense of closure at having solidified one new relationship after feeling so geographically isolated from my friends back home.

Life is good. My only complaint would be that I'm ready for this semester to be over so I can get fully caught up on my work before the summer term begins! :)