I sometimes think that happiness has made me an arch enemy and dislikes me with such intensity we could never cross paths. I find misery, disappointment, hopelessness and conflict are my permanent allies. I am not consoled by the slightest moments of light. I am wrestling both inwardly and outwardly with my mind and soul. And a bipolar mind is familiar with this relentless tussle.
I can’t find happiness even briefly in the arms of a lover. My world is calamity and woe and happens to be falling apart all around me. The rubble of a life filled with more errors than a comedy of errors. My very own horror show filled with grief and every aspect of pain whether physical or emotional. My Wounds have opened up in a way that I can’t bear. Like bone jutting out of the skin. Raw and exposed and excruciatingly painful.
I sit in my ash heap of hopeless desolation and forlornness and don’t know what lies ahead. More calamity and strife perhaps with little splashes of joy for colour and effect. Life has hit me hard and ripped away my independence, purpose and gritty determination. My job hunt has rendered no results after 9 months. My family relationships are self destructing almost instantaneously. I am losing hope fast like a Formula 1 car in pole position it is racing away from me. My prayers are tears now. Prayers filled with questions. Many distraught why’s. How do I get past this? How do I survive on my own and stand alone?
My bipolar crisis needs treatment, care and support. I am bereft at the lack of all 3. I have to once again resume a 2 week wait for a medical appointment. I am not certain that medication is an antidote to my hopelessness and lack of vision for my life. Was it a smoke screen the entire time? The life that resembled normality and calm with ill fitting success. Security is not success I think but life devoid of passion. Where are the once girlish dreams of love, a successful career and a wonderful life? I guess that is what they call a rich fantasy life.
I am trapped in this mind that betrays me daily and a world that is unforgiving in my demise. There is no safety net for the orphaned and forgotten and the rebellious misfit. Am I raging against the inevitable or a reality I refuse to face? That I am possibly doomed beyond measure and even God has washed his hands of me. My plight is real and my anguish agonising.
Is happiness and hope intertwined? Are they playing a cruel joke on me? In my devastation I need so much more than I could ever ask for from those who care. As I seek any solace I find emptiness, abandonment and a deep disapproval and disappointment. May these warring thoughts end peacefully. I fear this battle has beaten even the toughest soldier within me. I no longer want to retaliate but go in the direction of ease and inner peace. I want to be hidden in its safety and be confined to its eternal comfort.