June 2nd, 2022

Journal entry: (new diagnosis and questioning med)

Could I stop myself from flying if I really tried?

I can't seem to stop the fall, that must be why I want to soar.

Flying, falling, or even coasting, all 3 make my skin crawl, all 3 are me, all 3 are fine.

If I could always coast, would I? These pills they say will help. I'm afraid it'll take away the only times I feel. I know I feel "too much"  "Too much" joy, "too much" despair, "too much" of nothing at all. 

I like elation, and I even like to feel sorrow, to feel it all so deeply that my soul cries out every emotion. How can I be ok feeling less. How can I be ok being less. 

It's an illness, they say, take your med, it's me, I scream, I don't want to be less.

Where is my choice when the meds control me, when they cap my excitment, my empathy, my arousal, my fear and anger. 

I see the ways I self sabotage, how I can manipulate, disengage and isolate, how I light up the night sky and then fizzle to nothing.

I know I need help, I know the meds help, but each day I feel less like me, it's a new nothing, is this now me?

I see my cycle, I want off the ride, I want some quiet. I'm seeing and am able to articulate how bipolar changes the kind of mom I am, changes the friend I am, the way I process and feel, the delusions and callings. I can't do things different or better, I'm just painfully aware of how my mind is fucking me over, and how I need the meds I actively hate.

**Thanks for reading, I guess it helped to write this out...