I’m never really quite sure if I am hypomanic, manic, going through a mixed episode, depressed, suicidal.. until it hits. And tonight the hypomania has hit. Or this ginger ale has more caffeine in it than it says. I’m hastily chewing on some wheat thins and it’s past midnight and my mind is not racing, but just not stopping. Why does this always happen at night?
I decided to start this nonsense of a blog because my fingers will be able to organize the thoughts properly that never cease to take a moment’s break in that thing that lies in a skull between my ears. If only it could stop. Well, one day it will, and hopefully that day is far from now.
I would’ve never thought in a million year only two years ago that I would love life as much as I do now. The pure thought of living exhausted me. Instead of thinking in a positive way, I neglected to see any sort of hope and down into the darkness I spiraled. The energy wasted on men and their love for me and my unhealthy dependency on it marked my immaturity and also fucked up way of looking at each breath I took. How was I able to actually live that way I think now?
Well, it’s finally 2015, and a new era began only 4 months ago when my (now larger) ass turned the magical age of 30. I felt the change that morning when I awoke. Never did I feel changed or any sort of difference when a new number dawned upon me. But this time I did. All of the lies, the bullshit, the worrying, the stress, the fears… it dissolved. And what was standing in front of the mirror somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen in NYC, was instead a strong, vibrant, 5’0 and a half inch beautiful woman who had been to the fired pits and back. She was scarred, bruised, half-heart-healed, talented, worshipped by her 4-year old mother who had suffered and seen things most 30-year old Americans will never experience in one lifetime. That was the day I was born. And in less than 5 hours later, my life started happening. Things began to unfold. And I was faced with new issues and problems that once before would have torn me and broken me.. But this year I am able to see past the walls and into the solutions. I am stronger than I’ve ever been.
And I need to share it. I wish I could sit with you right now in my living room full of transformers, pillows, a fully-decorated Christmas tree, books about religion and mental illness, and two hats hanging on my TV (that’s another story) and pour my heart out to you. We could have a heart to heart about my experiences in the last decade and how I am sitting here somehow speaking to you instead. But I can’t. There’s not enough time.
That’s why I started this blog. Every time I post, I promise to uncover another layer of my heart and share the everyday struggles. I hope you will love yourself more because of me. Because I definitely have started to really love myself.