Bipolar Disorder: The Worst Part Of It ALL
Solitude in Forever
The worst part of it all was little did I know this was my forever. Take a look at this or even that and possible you'll understand the battle of strange wants. Unusual desires, crazy because how could one want two things that are absolute enemies. That's this order of dis-tance. I crave the resolve of silence and berate it's cousin, noise. Then once presented with the temptaion of loudness, I curse the vocation that is silence to dance in the light of the noise. That was how my day started. I got up expecting love, I'm going to lay down withholding hate.
It's been a simple but rough day, hard to believe it's almost over now. I suppose it's slightly late here, close to twelve, but it feels early and as if I haven't finished or even started the day's tasks. There were many disruptions, I let them happen, I shouldn't have. Who am I? A question that remained resounding during my lapse into pasts, futures, presents that weren't mine. I opened them anyway, just to get a glimpse of what I could have had. This is my prose, my poetry, my life that I gather into thoughts and spill upon your loving eyes who up until this point didn't ignite the strange of my mind. BUT since it has, I thank, no offer grattitude for accepting this tongue, a language that I SPEAK, and you read with eyes, not ears. Oh but, to return, where was I?
I got up, I made my list of to dos, because that's all that keeps me going. I do one, then two, the the third becomes the momentum and in that endless shift I stream past the mundane and resolve the routines that bind my ideals. So where was i? Oh but yes, I moved into the list. This list, this stupid rediculous list which keeps me normal and maintains my abnormality at a singular level. No darling, let me be, the motion of glee has left me without ease. That's my disorder, never wanting to be happy but always facinated by the ones who seem to have it.
Oh right, where was I? The list, I moved past it, beyond it, into eternity and it's brooding child, knowledge. Tis the source of sorrow, is it not? Yes, to know is to invite sadness within that realm of dependency on what a happy soul would forsake as lesser value. The things that keep me stumped.
Oh this is one of them
I see the words on the keyboard
though my eyes are sealed
the words form themselves and I
WONDER, WILL THIS BE? YES
WILL THIS BE when I am old?
Well, then, enough disruptions, back to my day. Where was I? I didn't make lunch, no not today because that would be too much for me. No, we ordered out, I was expecting a visitor. I was expecting strength, hope, wisdom in this estranged sister of mine. I recieved an invitation to just be friends.
"I'm sorry, I don't think this will work out between us, as siblings I mean. Lets just be friends okay?"
Alright I said, at the price of my what? Oh my daughter, at which point I realized, the very thing that saved me was what would bring me to my knees in tears pleading for forgiveness, revenge, and pity. This sister of mine, this emotional baggage I see, this beautiful adornement of sprees, she eludes me by keeping me in captivity. Well her, she asked for the one thing that was keeping me sane and I gave it over. My sanity losing me in the battle of eventual compromise. Because isn't that what we all do? Compromise by death? That's what it felt like at the end of this visit, and immediately I regretted opening the door, screaming "come in" from where I stood, washing dishes so I would hear it.
And now, it's past twelve. The oh five has struck and i'm tired, but I want to stay up. This is the disorder, this is the screaming, this is the silence and the effortless brilliance. Once it ends, it'll have struck ONE. Then what? Oh, right, the list.