Monday, August 24, 2009

Another part of Bipolar...

I sit here this morning, looking out at nothing really. My mind is racing 10,000 miles per hour. Thoughts that won't let me catch them... a heart rate that speeds and slows, speeds and slows and, Speeds.I reach for my coffee cup, knowing it's empty, and try to talk myself into getting up and refilling my cup. Something so damn simple and yet such a huge task at times. Will I get up and get more coffee? I guess I'll have to see.
I think about my friends. I wonder this morning why they even call me friend. I neglect them and leave them sitting, wondering perhaps what it is they have done that caused me to stop talking to them. I wonder how I tell them that they have done nothing at all. It is Me. Anxieties inside of me, making me body shiver and my mind run rampant through every Oops I have ever made. Trying so hard to reach out to those that call me friend and yet not finding my way there. Afraid that I will get into a conversation, my mind will wander far away and I will not know how to say "sorry, I just need to go."
Just another part of this disorder that leaves me worn out inside and unable to make myself do things on the outside. Feeling as if I have only half accomplished anything I have done in this life. Half worked, half been a friend, half been successful. Never truly following through with anything I have ever started. Stepping out on a woman that loved me with her heart and soul. A CD that has touched only a few. Novels published but not yet best sellers. Friends that watch me drift further and further down a road that leads in the opposite direction. Half finished...
I don't not want to avoid friends. I don't mean to not respond. I wish things were different for me in my mind and yet want things to stay exactly as they are. No rocking the boat, no "must do's" or time sets. Just breathing, living and being. Living is a relative word for me. It says that I am doing more than just breathing. It says I am taking steps to do something with my life. I live in a world where fiction is reality to me and reality... is something I am unsure of at times. This is the life of a person that suffers from this disorder. Things we dream into life that don't or won't truly happen, but in our world, they already have and if not, they will. Believing that everything we have ever dreamed of will come o us if we wait for it long enough.
Feelings that we can conquer the world, save the less fortunate and help those in need. Believing we can do all of this without even having a grip on our own life. Mainly because, our own lives are NOT relative. They do not matter except for those fleeting times when we WANT it to matter. The moments that we want Everyone in the world to notice us. But when they do, we freak and run and hide again. A feeling, a roller coaster ride that few would want to take and fewer would survive it.
This is my world and this is where I dwell. My writing my only true safe place. It is a place I can go and create a world that is almost me but not really. Confusion that feels like certainty and those things certain that seem a bit unreal, like a facade that is not to be trusted that hides the true face we are looking at. How I want to tell my friends, my family that I love them but I simply can't see them right now. Wondering how long they will wait for me to come back. Trying always to decide if seeing them is the cure or if seeing them is a dangerous place to be. Feeling as if they are best to be away from me. Less hurt that way.
Oh my, this is my world. This is where I live and play and scold and chastise myself for the sadness and alone-ness and pain I bring to those that love me. You might understand where it is I dwell if you simply give me time and patience I so desperately need to survive. I guess we will have to see where today leads me. Just know I do care and I do want to talk to you. I simply don't know how right now.Please, forgive me for that. It's just another "Bipolar" day for me...

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