Wednesday, September 21, 2016

To You | From Me

I make your bed while you're still in it, pretending to be asleep. You let out a low growl and I act like it was the scariest moment we've ever shared. We worked out a system, you and I, where you slither out from under your comfort zone as your favorite blue blanket remains fluffed behind you, beckoning for you to return.

Your clothes are in the bathroom and your toothbrush is ready to go. I almost always manage to look up as you make the walk from your bedroom closet to the bathroom in your Angry Birds underwear. You're getting so tall and yet, when you lay on the couch, your body still manages to curl up onto one cushion.

You don't always catch me but I usually stand next to the kitchen island and watch as you put on your shoes and tie them, all while having an entire conversation with yourself. I thought I could crack myself up but really it's you who does it so well. You're the funniest person I know.

When it's time to leave for school we gather at the door as you reach for the keys and lock the door behind us. Today you put the keys in your pocket after because you wanted to unlock the car too. Pretty soon it'll be you driving me.

We pull up to your school and park next to the secret path that leads to the school yard. Before we collect your backpack and lunchbox you mention to me that we should probably listen to Taylor Swift more often. Her songs are pretty good. You make me smile.

You hug me and give kisses and skip off to the secret path. I lean on the fence watching you pick up speed to get to the end so you can climb the stairs and get started with your day. You're always wondering what's for breakfast when we arrive. Once you reach the end of the path you turn to face me to wave goodbye.

He calls me his favorite love.

^ ^ ^

When mental illness pulls you down to the ground and wants to choke the life out of you, you've got to attempt to remember what's worth gasping for.

Monday, September 19, 2016

Stop telling me it's going to be okay...

I don't come around here anymore out of embarrassment. I was flying high for months. Then June hit and took a shit on me and I haven't regained full consciousness since. 

Yesterday I cried from 7-am until 10-pm. At one point I at least had enough sense to start drinking water so I wouldn't dehydrate. 

The reason I still move forward.
I got blood drawn this morning for some labs my doctor is running. How sad is it that I hope he finds something wrong, something so far-gone that that's that with that for me? That way I can't be directly blamed and eventually my family can move forward.

I don't know why I fucking came here today. 

No, actually I do. 

I came here today to say exactly what's on my mind without having to look people in the face who wave me off or say that things will get better if I just believe it will.

Because, really? 

Is that all I have to fucking do?

Man, I wish I tried that. 

"Just breathing" or "Just believing" or "Just snapping out of it because what the fuck do you have to be sad for" isn't helpful. 

It's probably why I'm not talking to you directly anymore. If you were wondering. 

I'm in an asshole state of mind right now and I can't apologize for it. 

I'm losing my hair more than I should be (Lithium), my skin is scratched raw beneath my clothing (Anxiety), I can't sleep (Hot/Cold/Paranoia), I'm experiencing wicked withdrawal symptoms from weaning off yet another medication (like a fucking heroin junkie), and this doesn't even begin to touch the surface of Bipolar highs and lows and SO MUCH ANGER. 

Stop telling me it will be okay because YOU want it to be okay. 

Just stop.