Posts Tagged With: emotions

SENSITIVE STEEL

I have bipolar disorder.

I am constantly challenged by my own intense emotions.

I feel everything you feel . . . times a thousand.

The good, the bad, and the ugly . . . times a thousand.

The loneliness and depression can be devastating, and the endless and exhausting struggle to cope, pure torture.

The statistics confirm it. One out of every five people afflicted with bipolar disorder successfully takes their own life.

My life consists of agitated anxious thinking and tormented isolation, with brief intermittent bursts of joy.

Even the happiness is heartbreaking. So erratic. And fleeting.

When I feel a joyous moment, I try to grab hold of it and capture it like a lightning bug in a jar. I embrace it. I consume it and feed it to my hungry heart. I am a quiet little hoarder of happiness.

Because I don’t know when I’ll see another lightning bug again.

Maybe never.

When most of you meet new people, you get to know them and then you judge whether or not to trust them and let them into your heart.

I do the opposite.

I take people at face value, and after a quick scan of my instincts, I pretty much let everyone in. And then I judge, as they prove dramatic, unstable, or hurtful, which ones are unhealthy for me.

It’s an awful way to live, but I’ve tried being careful and guarded, and it’s just not my nature.

I love quickly and with a wide open heart.

I view everyone as being unique and magnificent, and I let them come in, and I celebrate them loudly. That’s how I am.

But I forget.

I forget that people don’t always say what they mean. And sometimes they’ll say what they mean all day long until you need them to, and then they won’t. People are funny like that.

I also forget that people misuse the word “love”, and when they hug me and say it, they mean it casually like, “It’s been nice to see you”. They don’t really love me.

And I forget that people don’t feel as intensely as I do.

And when I am reminded, it breaks my heart.

I am a constant victim . . . of my own brain.

So I strive to make better choices about people. Who I let in. Who I believe. And trust. And love.

And when I get hurt, as surely I will, because I will always love quickly and hugely, I will take the hit to my heart, lick my wounds, adjust, and then get right back out into the world.

But I will remember this pain.

For a little while anyway.

And then I’ll forget again.

Because that’s just my nature.

I love quickly. And I have a terrible memory. Sheesh.

The irony is, that as sensitive as I am . . .

I am as strong as you are . . .  times a thousand.

We bipolars are funny that way.

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(Read, “Being Bipolar” at: http://wp.me/p2ckKM-hF).

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Categories: Bipolar/Depression, Friends, Inspiration/Motivation, Kindness & Compassion, Mental Health, Suicide | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

MY PLACE IN THE SAND

Do you remember the doggie-paddle; the canine swimming technique copied solely to keep even the simplest of human heads above water?  

Well, I’ve spent most of my life doing it.

And apparently while I was doing this desperate and undignified dance, and expending the endless energy required just to keep my feet paddling, my lungs inflated, and my big fat head afloat, life had somehow slipped right. . . on. . . by.

I was so busy treading life’s tumultuous waters that I failed to see the lifelines that were all around me. I was so frantically intent on staying up, that I inadvertently forgot about standing up.

But today is a new day and I have finally reached the shore! This rudderless wonder now resides contentedly on the soft and yielding warmth of a safe, new beach. My exhausted paddling feet are now retired deep beneath fine, cool granules of pure white sand, while once heavy shoulders blush in appreciation at the sun’s affections. New eyes look at the ocean today and through remembered treacherousness, they now see beauty. My heartbeat has slowed and my soul is quietly and gradually healing. 

I am very protective of my little stretch of beach. I’ve spent a lifetime paddling my way, earning my way, to this treasure.

This is my time . . . and this is my place . . . where loving and compassionate friends gather to uplift, heal, and celebrate life . . . and one another.

So, when I extend my hand to you in invitation, it is because you are my friend and can be trusted to respect my priceless little home here in the sand.

Even Heaven’s greatest delight is in the sharing.

So I thank you for joining me.

Now please take off your shoes.

Categories: Humor, Inspiration/Motivation, Mental Health, Nature | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 35 Comments

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