Living and life have always been two separate beasts. The head and the heart have been in a continuous battle since the first clap in the applause as the fingers stemmed creation from the page to the strings and the voice. The heart felt the rhythm of the music while the head panicked, so frantic about the future and how to leave a mark in the sand as the tide rolled in again, washing everything away… There never was, nor ever seems be common ground.
As the years progressed I tried so hard to mediate, meditate, and medicate to find the balance where I could learn to be the person I always longed to be. Yet there were so many voices that all screamed to be it. The end all, be all finished product that smiled at high school reunions, so proud and sure of himself. No one ever tells you that those stars you were always told to reach for are just rocks because you would never risk it all without the illusion.
I wish I could understand why I shift between ups and downs. When the word “bipolar” left the lips of my therapist, I was left speechless as the symptoms cascading down the list fit my everyday life like a glove. My moods flying up and down the seesaw, the days of waking up on top of the world with the crash and burn the next day, the zombie on the couch, the indecisive hours at the store contemplating to spend or not to spend, the random urges to get piercings or endure painful activities, the many hobbies and activities I have invested in only to lose all interest and give up, the desire to create with no follow through, the Jekyll and Hyde…
I was introduced to several stages that can appear as the stereotype we all immediately think of, stages that appear as Attention Deficit Disorder, and stages that take place for hours to even days. The more conversation that developed around the subject, the more things became crystal clear. The only question left is, “Where do I go from here?”. I can’t continue down this road any longer for the sake of my job, my family, my life… We were not created to hate ourselves, but to create in the image we were formed from. We are to be a voice and I am merely a squeak among roaring most days. Other days I am the king of my pride, dominating and standing for my beliefs. I am ready to be myself once and for all, not the several versions that never seem to get along.
The diagnosis? It’s not etched in stone, but is a top contender in the line-up. There are many talks and appointments to attend before the chisel is drawn. The only thing clear ahead of me is to follow through and find confirmation. Until then, life will continue with one foot leading the other and reaching carefully into the fog for that guy who is confident and strong in himself, sipping punch at the reunion. Cheers my friends.