Dismal

Under moonlit skies, I find myself once again. Sitting on the ocean wall, my hands resting and experiencing the roughness of the cold cement beneath them. My feet dangling over the edge, swinging back and forth with no ground to comfortably rest upon. The intensity of the waves below dare to consume me with one swift movement. In and out, the tide arrives, then flees just as fast as it once came. I wonder as I watch the water sway back and forth, will the ocean ever make up its mind? All of this rising and falling, does it ever grow weary? Does it ever want to stand still for just a moment? At the surface it seems like it only inhibits two sides. The high and the low, the meek and the wicked. I suppose in a sense one could call the sea "Bipolar". In high tide, all of the rocks, creatures, shells, and the clutter is hidden beneath the surface. It has a calm and docile tone. You can not see the muddle nor the confining dissaray underneath. In low tide, it reveals the horde of the phantoms below. living things wedged halfway in the sand, each squirming in the blaring sunlight, desolately struggling for their fragile lives. Many may think, "how could one see the ocean in such a dismal way?" Well I can. Because I know both sides in rather a mundane manner. I have been to the depths of the ocean, and I have seen the other side.   

Societal "Norms"

Being a "human" in a society that expects you to be an "adult". In my opinion the two are very different from each other. I am definitely not one for societal norms. I have to tried to abide by them my entire life. Honestly it has never worked for me. My life has not allowed for the typical American culture of growing up. In the past I have tried my hardest to follow the "normal" path. Not once did it go the way I thought it should have. The most normal thing that has ever happened to me was graduating High School. But even then life didn't allow for me to stay in college for more than 72 hours. I barely even made it to my first class. No, life had something completely different planned for me. I look back on it now and think that if I would have known what was coming, I would have probably ended my life. I do not believe that ending it is the answer, but thats how severe the circumstances had been. Am I glad that I am alive and well? Of course! I thank my lucky stars for the space that I am in at this present moment. I have been blessed in more ways than one. It took a lot to get here, and when I say a lot, I mean it took every ounce of my being to even stay alive. For me to be alive and mentally sound right now is quite a miracle. I consider myself as being a miracle, and feel that I have been given a second chance at life. I am glad that I have gone through the things that I have gone through. They made me wake up real fast. They also required me to grow up at a rapid rate. I have better self awareness than most people in their 50s. And I credit that to the years and years of self work I have had to do. Whether I liked it or not, that was what I had to do, and is what I continue to do. The road of thy self is never a finished one. In a way that is terrifying, but also extremely exciting. I wonder where I would be if none of this had ever happened to me. Where would I be if I was able to stay in school, graduate college, moved out at 18, dated like a "normal" teenager, didn't have divorced parents, didn't have a mental illness. Would I have been better off? Or am I better off because I was not able to have all of those things? In a way I am almost grateful that I was given a "disease". It has made me so strong, so appreciative, and greatly compassionate. I know myself very well. I know what I do and do not want. I know the kind of people that I will allow in my life. I am aware of the things that I need and the things that I choose to avoid. I haven't gotten it all figured out, but I have a good idea of who I want to be, and how I want to be remembered when I do leave this world, hopefully at a very old age. I feel that I know more than your average 25 year old (almost 26). I am an old soul, and I have done nothing by the book, even though when I was younger, that was all I ever wanted. Now I am realizing that it may not be the case. Maybe I want a few normal things, but what is normal really? Why would we all strive to take the same path? How boring is that? There are so many different possibilities in the world. Why not explore them from all different avenues? I'm not saying the average path of life is a bad or boring thing. If you have gone to college, had a family, own a home, and have a great job, then that is amazing! You worked very hard for that and you should be given credit for putting in the time to achieve those things. But for me, I believe now that I was born a different kind of soul. I wasn't meant to arrive at societal norms in an ordinary fashion. When everyone veered right, I veered left. And might I say, its scary over here, but its also pretty damn great. 

Journey Of Wellness

On this journey of wellness, I have been given many things. Without going into detail and listing everything off in a monotonous tone, let me focus in on one of the most important things that I have come across and continue to strive towards. A sense of self. To this day, I have never felt more sure of who I am than I do right now. We go through life in a series of stages. With each stage we arrive at, we think "Oh! Maybe this is it. Maybe this is who I am." We become sure of it. How could it not be? And who's to say that its not? It may be who we really are for that moment in time. Don't discount it. We are given these moments of realization for a reason, and these moments add up. Its when they start to add up in great numbers that we start to see where we are actually headed. No one person looks at one single thing and thinks "that defines me wholeheartedly." How boring would that be? Luckily it doesn't work that way. Not to quote the greatest American film of all time, Shrek, but we human beings are made up of layers. Deciphering what each layer means is the business of life. Each layer is as beautiful as the next. One may be completely different from another, but they are equally as important. Even the negative layers help define us. But they do not not solely define us. For example, yes, I have Bipolar Disorder. But does that define me? Hell no! It may be a part of me, but its only one small thing in the mix of many others. The beauty of it is, we get to choose which layers we accentuate. Every now and then a layer I do not want may creep in, but I know how to put it on the back burner and not let it ruin my day. I often ask myself, what defines Laney? Sometimes I do not know the answer to this. It is after all a very broad question to have to ask in such a simple way. But even if I don't know how to answer the question, I do subconsciously know the answer. I always have it within me. In the past when I have been in the hospital or just going through a hard time, I may have felt like I completely had lost my way, but in reality I was still there. I still knew who I was. I may not have known where I was going but I feel that knowing who you are in the moment is better than knowing where you are going next. It is not what we have gone through that defines us, but how we have reacted to the given situation. Did I handle it with grace, determination, and drive? Did I give it the justice that it needed at the time? Did I sit in the hospital and numerous PHP programs and give it my all every second of every day? If yes to any of these, well then damn! Kudos to Laney! I am looking forward to the future, and to building my layers. Until then, I proudly live with the ones that I have already created for myself.    

Oh Love...

I almost don't want it to happen. Its too painful, every single time. I want to protect myself as much as I possibly can. To allow someone to love you is a very scary and brave thing. You spend so much time looking for it, and never finding it. Then when you are not seeking it and let it be, maybe someone does come along. Still you can't tell their intentions. And thats frightening. You don't want to jump to conclusions. You don't want to fantasize in your head, but while you're driving down a long stretch of road, before you know it you've gone 10 miles and don't remember a single one of them, all because "he" has been on your mind He has worked his way into your subconscious. You literally shake it off starting with your head and traveling down to your body, then say to yourself, "let it go! Knock it off! This is going to do you no good." In the past I have been too hopeful. Too optimistic I suppose. I was given signs from men, only to find that those signs meant nothing and they were only just messing with my head in order to make them feel better about themselves. You had fallen into the trap many times. And who could blame you? He shamelessly flirted with you, called you by a cute nickname, invited you over to his house, then when you finally made a move he told you he "just wanted to be left alone". You think that you will never make this mistake again, but the manipulation coming from this person continues. You begin to second guess yourself. You feel that maybe you are not good enough to be given a real chance. Somewhere deep down you know this is not true, but the trials you have gone through test your thinking and mess with your thought process. I know that love and lust is not supposed to be easy. Its one of the most difficult things people go through. Somehow throughout the years, you have settled for less than perfect. You have been disappointed enough to give up and gladly accept that its just not in the cards. Some people will find love, but not you. Maybe its the way the stars are aligned. But maybe its just something as  simple as the nature of your being. I hate to doubt myself so much. I don't mean it to find people to pity me. I want no pity. I am a multiply talented and caring woman. I don't believe that I have it all, but I do believe that I have some good qualities. I suppose love however, is not something that I can see myself finding. I don't know whether that is from past experience, or if thats just my gut instinct, which is unfortunate because my gut is usually always right. People talk of natural sympathies. I feel that I have run into this in some form or another. But is it enough? People also talk about how one day you will meet someone who finds you to be more than enough. Maybe I don't feel love is in the cards for me simply because I have not found it yet. That has yet to be decided. Until then, if it actually exists for me, I will go about my life, be the best person I can be, be kind towards others in need, believe in the qualities that I do have, and hope in the meantime that he is smitten enough to try for my affection. If not, I will stick with friendship. Sometimes friendship is more important than romantic relationships. Being okay with being single will be an awfully big adventure, but I believe that I am finally getting there. I am getting closer with each day to being okay with "flying solo". Have adventures with yourself, then the rest will follow. He will come along, but in the meantime just focus on continuing to become the best person you can possibly be. Have enough respect to adore yourself. The rest is in the hands of my higher power, whomever that may be. 

Innocence

Innocence. What a perfectly blind thing. We were all children once. We all had that innocence in us, telling us that everything was going to be okay. That the world was a flawless place. You had no care in the world. You never fathomed that someone could be mean. No one could do any wrong. No one would get sick. Nothing would ever disfigure the world. No one would harm an animal. Mom was happy, and Dad would never leave. 
  
  Everything existed only for the good of the world. I remember being a young girl, and playing in the forest on the Washington Peninsula. My cousins and I would dress up in capes and run through the moss covered evergreens. Dodging branches and drinking in the feeling of the wind whipping our capes behind us. Our wide childlike eyes taking everything in without judgement. The air was brisk, but we were Washington raised. Our skin could take the cold. In fact we preferred it that way. It was on my cousins farm that we would roam the deep forest. We would catch frogs on the pond, and see how many we could keep in the boat at one time. We made hay forts in the loft of the barn so our parents couldn't find us. We stayed in those forts all day, telling ghost stories at night while braving the dark. Digging for clay in the rain. Riding horses on the rural backroads. Building teepees by the creek. Gathering berries and vegetables. Eating sour apples from their tree by the porch. Gathering eggs from the chicken coup. Sleeping outside in the back of my cousins old Ford Ranger. Cowboy boots. Muddy jeans. Berry stained fingers. Everything was perfect.

  And then we grew up. The forests where we once roamed, now empty of the sound of children's laughter. The pond still as glass. The hay unmoved, with no hidden caverns or tunnels. The apples unpicked. Capes unworn and collecting dust. Our fingers clean from blackberry stains. When was it that we stopped believing that the world was enchanting? At what point did we hang up our innocence? Now we are grown, and our minds are flooded with the troubles of the world. We see the bad. We feel the hurt. Life experience has left us untrusting and cautious. Childhood friends have moved on. Cousins have moved away. Animals have passed. Trees have fallen. Trucks have broken down and rusted. The sounds of bluegrass have faded. And Dad really did leave.         

Surrender

There are no limits as to what you can do with your life. Or at least I have been told. On the contrary others have told me to think realistically and be practical. To which do I listen? And for what reasoning? Every time I see someone succeed, I take a look at my life and the lack of what I am not doing with it, the things that I have not accomplished, and the direction that I feel that I am most definitely not going in. How can I not compare myself to others? How can I not feel bad about myself, when all I see is a life of hospital stays and an endless supply of pills. How do I feel good about that? Sure I've made it through some really tough shit, but a life that could have been so great in so many ways, has been suppressed and held back due to illness. How unfair I feel this to be. How frustrated I am that it has stopped me from being me. From doing the things that I used to think I was capable of doing. Illness has beaten me down, and I feel like I'm starting to surrender, something that I never wanted to do. 

Perspective

      The way I see things is of course, different from anyone else. Sometimes it scares me, sometimes I love it too much. There isn't much balance to the unending emotion and passion I experience. Sometimes its flatlined, without a feeling to be felt. The numbness overcomes me, keeping me slow and dull. On the contrary, others times I feel too much. I am overcome with great passion bursting from the seams. I can be so happy I cry, likewise when I'm perpetually down. If I am ever in the middle, I do not notice it, nor is it easy for me to identify. Since I was a very long girl, I can remember some of my first obsessions. I would love things so much, I had to express it to everyone. Lets take movies for example. I would love a movie so much I would want to live in the era. I wanted to live inside of the movie, and somehow I thought this was achievable. That I could somehow live like my favorite story characters. The stories would overtake my mind, flooding in like oil into the sea. It contaminated everything. I was always frustrated that I couldn't get enough of the non existent world in which I obsessed over. I never understood why I would love something so much more that the others around me. I thought that I was just extra passionate. Now I know that all of those obsessions, all of those strong overbearing emotions were my OCD. Its extremely frustrating at times. I will get obsessed with a TV show or movie, and then be told not to watch it anymore. Its like telling a child that they are not allowed to  play with their favorite toy. Its seems like a punishment. Its painful, when your mind wants so much of something, and you have to deny yourself of that very thing. Like an infant being denied comfort, I have to wait for the obsession to pass, not knowing if I will ever be able to introduce my interest back into my life. Being of the human race, we all go through phases in our lives. This is where its hard for me to tell if its just a phase, or  if I actually like something. To have others such as my family tell me its just a phase, angers me. Who's to know if it is or not. Unfortunately it usually is, even though at the time I am so consumed by this one thing. It feels real. Like you would swear someone in your life is a human being, and you would put money on it. You would put money on your belief that, the person in your life is indeed a living, breathing human being. And then all of the sudden they disappear. You could have sworn they were real. Its hard to know whats real in my mind. How much is too much, being the constant question. 
How far should I go? How far is safe enough? Do I have to live my life constantly question my interests? To see them as real or fake. I'm afraid that this is a burden that will never leave me. I will always have to steer clear of the things that I enjoy, and that seem to be consuming too much of my life. Weighing out whats worth it, and whats not. Staying in the the reality of the world is not something that people like to do, but for me it is one of the most important things to do. Stay grounded, and keep reality within reach.