Quicksand

I'm a little surprised, a lot confused. I thought this journey was much more hopeful than it ever in actuality was. How many times can you crash and burn, and pick yourself up again? How many times? Dusting yourself off, trying the newest "cocktails" again and again, in order to even attempt to function?

It must be my ego, thinking that there are a few things in life that I have a "right" to. The right to feel like a human being. The right to be functional enough that I can contribute to society and support myself. The right to just be...without constant torment.Instead of being stubborn, I guess it was actually my ego that kept me trying, kept nudging me forward when I couldn't take another step.

10 years of doing what I'm supposed to...taking my medications, going to a therapist, staying completely away from alcohol and drugs, avoiding caffeine. Exercising regularly, trying to maintain a normal pattern of sleep, knowing what some of my triggers are, knowing what the early signs are for the next roller coaster ride. Learning what acts as a floatation device in my life, and grabbing on to it when needed.

This is pretty hilarious, if you think about it. The first year after being diagnosed bipolar, I struggled with the fact my brain was no longer on my side..if it ever had been. I adapted, I learned to live with it. I didn't whine a lot, at least to anyone besides my therapist. I just did what I had been raised to do...pulled up those proverbial bootstraps and kept slogging through the manure the best I could. And that's how I've lived the last 10 years. Trying to blend in and appear as normal as possible to my family, my friends and co-workers. When inside, I felt "as crazy as a sh*t-house rat" as my father would say.

And whenever an extra helping of crisis was thrown in, or an additional dump truck full of self-loathing, I exchanged the boots for hip-waders and I went on my merry way....with as little impact on others as possible. But I have learned recently that boots aren't of much use when you are up to your neck in quicksand. The more you struggle, the deeper you sink. I've been struggling long and hard over the past year and I'm exhausted. I'm treading quicksand, laughing at how strangely life can work and trying to decide what to do.