I turned inward because the darkness has chasen the light from my world. I chose tried and true inner turmoil because the chaos I had drawn upon for so long had turned it’s back on me. I quite my job because depression settled in. It was not a decision I made lightly.
I often tell stories of my successes. I brag about all the times I find myself driven madness as my unstable mind pulls me into so many different directions my internal compass breaks. Then I discovered I am bipolar. Suddenly a veil was lifted. Those driven moments where I find the world is my oyster are as clear as mud. They return to my nightmares nightly as a reminder I once rode the high of a manic brain scrambling to make sense of the world.
Rather than summon the inner strength to go forward I settled into the downward spiral known as depression. I have been there before. The darkest days come at the lowest point. I feel the tide of life as the waves of responsibility come crashing down onto my chest. I sink to the sand as reality grabs ahold of me, dragging me to the oceans bottom. There I dig into the sand as I resolve that being in a slumber beats drawing upon that inner strength I forgot I had.
Once I lose the keys to the vault I no longer have access to the magical elixir that pushes me forward day to day. I found a therapist licensed to treat me who uncovered the hidden truth buried under a thin shroud of denial.
Once granted the light of truth shined upon my darkest days I felt the pulling upwards. A lifeline had been reached. A hand reached into the waters and pulled me up onto the raft. There I float. I remain drifting at sea. Lost to the wide ocean of insanity gnawing at my consciousness. Thus I sit here, awake near half-past midnight contemplating the meaning of it all.
I drifted along the waters sans guide longer than I’d care to remember. My days growing colder despite the winters heat. Yes living in Texas has brought my inner thermostat into a raging boil. At least this egg is cracked enough I might get a pretty good omelet out of it all. Yet I continue to drag.
I start a new job yet again. This time faced not with the dilemma of how this will fit into my plan. Rather I stand steadfast with a single thought in mind, the pay is good and the work is sufficient this will have to do for now. Then I ponder the meaning of the sentiment for now. Wouldn’t I rather settle for some sense of stability? Wouldn’t my life’s station improve tremendously should I stay the course, sail the boat to shore rather than head back out to open waters?
Aye of course but the nays often win out in the end. When it is all said and done they’ll tell the tales of my life through the lens of a crazy woman born with male genitals. She did her best to survive but the world kept pushing her back out to sea in hopes she’d sink once more to the sand.
Drowning no longer an option I now face a new peril. Monotony. The very evil I despised such sufficiently to entice me to walk out on a perfectly good career with solid benefits. Yet I stand here knowledge in hand this could turn into something good for me. Then why do I not picture the good down the road being firmly in my rearview mirror in the coming months?
Experience has shown I will fail. Not this time. Properly diagnosed, sufficiently medicated with the love of an amazing woman to guide me, I enter this new chapter of my life ready to set sail to the island paradise my heart has been dragging me towards all this time. Stability Shores here I come.
Stephanie Bri 