A tale of two cities almost. Here I am, flying away from one, filled with pain, suffering, and uncertainty. To another, that has its fair share of pain. But things there were certain, things made sense.
Things are different between the two cities. Both how they look, their feel, and my lives in them. My friends are different in the two cities, my families are different. But at this point, I don’t know what to expect. I feel more free at home, things are familiar in that city, comfortable too. In this new city, I feel trapped, the towering mountains almost feel like they are closing in, my escape has become my captor. I am uncomfortable, constantly on edge, feeling like i’ll snap at any second.
But is it just me? Is it just my moods? Do I just need to weather the storm? Will the clouds part and the sun begin to show its face if I give it a chance?
I’ve discovered recently that I have been questioning everything in my life. It used to feel like everything was certain, where I was and where I was heading. But now I second guess everything, my life, my goals, my moods, and most of my decisions.
Coming to terms with this illness has been one of the hardest things I’ve done. Who am I, and what is my illness, what do I want to do with my life? How much longer will I make it? When will I crash again? These are all things I ponder, and that I really don’t have the answers to.
I feel like im still picking up the pieces after my most recent episode. Living in denial isn’t going to cut it. So how do I accept it?
Bipolar is a very tricky thing. It’s centered around uncertainty, something I hate. Meds are a guessing game, you never know when another episode is going to hit. There isn’t even much certainty about the illness itself. Its not physical, its in your head. You don’t know for certain. They say seeing is believing, if you see something its there, its visible and tangible. So if you can’t see it, is it even there? Obviously its there but for some reason its so hard to believe. Sometimes I look in the mirror or at a picture of myself and thing, wow, bipolar, I don’t look bipolar, but it doesn’t look like anything. Its all in my head and it could be anyone, which is so hard to grasp. Its not a broken leg or anything, its not tangible, but that doesn’t mean its not there. Which is something I need to keep reminding myself.
Who am I? That’s a question who’s answer will always be changing. But for now, it goes something like this. I am a caring person, I love my friends so deeply, I am a loveless romantic, I am a photographer and an adventurer. Things won’t always be easy with this mental illness, its hard to accept that this will be an issue for the rest of my life, but I’ll figure it out as I go.