Oh shut up. Every time it rains, it stops raining. Every time you hurt, you heal. After darkness, there is always light and you get reminded of this every morning but still you choose to believe that the night will last forever. Nothing lasts forever. Not the good or the bad. So you might as well smile while you’re here.
from I Wrote This For You
I needed this today, right now, in this moment, more than I realized. I found this website via Grace’s Birdcage this morning. I liked what was on her blog here, and finally took some time tonight to look at the author’s website.
Some much needed time.
I have had several rough moments this past week. When I’m at work, it’s not so bad. I’m busy, preoccupied, even. I don’t have time, literally, to let those old thoughts — so well-worn, familiar, uncherished — cycle and recycle through my head over and over. There is simply not enough room in my brain for all of that while at work, which is probably a good thing, considering I work in the women’s state prison and some of them wouldn’t mind at all to catch me in a weak moment and smash a sock lock into my nose.
After I am off work, before I go to work in the morning. Those times are hard. My brain is screaming all of these negatives at me and all I want to do is have a moment of peace. I distract myself to the point when I can’t be distracted anymore. I meditate, I blog, color, listen to music, cook, do dishes, laundry, organize. It’s all there waiting for me when I’m done, though.
I try to pretend it’s not. I tell everyone that I’m fine, “Oh yeah, everything’s great!” In the overall picture, things are fine. Like the times that I’m at work. And all of the energy I’ve spent over this new blog. House is so nice and clean, the next week is planned down to the finest of details. Everything is just.so.
Having a mixed episode of bipolar disorder is fairly awful — feelings of overflowing energy consume and five hours later, you’re staring at the bedroom ceiling, chainsmoking in the breakfast nook, looking out over the backyard at 3:00 a.m. And it won’t end. And it doesn’t end.
Except it does. Easy to forget. Hard to remember.
This song is how I want my head to feel, how I want my heart to beat.
Twenty-two-Fourteen, The Album Leaf