There is a misconception about mental illness and recovery. It’s not the same as recovering from the flu, or a broken bone. Recovery for a mental disorder is an ongoing process. It’s about managing the symptoms and finding the right treatment. I know for me, as I’ve gotten older, my illness has gotten more severe, thus requiring varying degrees of treatment in order to aid in my recovery process.
I’ve been pretty stable lately and I feel alright. My head has been mostly clear, well, clear enough to get through my day undisturbed. And I haven’t felt overall depressed, angry, or manic. Now, that is my usual. I’m not saying I don’t have days where I feel my moods alter into a wayward routine of up and down. Because I do have my less than perfect days. I know I flirt with hypomania, I know I experience crying spells, I also react to my boredom with abstract ideas. But I know it will be fine, even if fine doesn’t mean today.
I’m just a proxy in my own life,
And all that blocks me from my own light.
Faced with caffeinated conviction beating from my hollow chest,
Taste of metal travels through my mouth of perfect flesh.
I speak the words that once were fused.
Dancing satellites behold my muse.
Bleeding, breathing, scream alive!
Crying, loving, feelings thrive!
Rampantly flowing, the levee’s only chance;
That time has come to learn my dance.
The door is open, so shove me hard.
Gaining, remaining, I play my part.
I’ve outgrown my private cell,
Shameless esteem unlocked from hell.
So take a chance to embrace self love,
Create the path my dreams are made of.