I live on a swing. In the beginning of my life I learned how to push myself on the swing by using my legs. It was so diverting while swinging, I felt like I could fly. As I got older I stayed on the swing but things started to change. I never forgot how to move my legs back and forth to give myself momentum. I never forgot how to jump off and land on my two feet during recess. I never forgot how to slow myself down when I was afraid of how high off the ground I was. My capability to swinging never changed. The change happened when I realized the swing was my life. The feeling of being on top of a mountain, the sound of my feet hitting rock bottom while slowing down, the fast exhilarating drop after jumping off, the jumps when i didn't land on my two feet, the wind blowing in my face reminding me how alive i am, the feeling of terror being so far off the ground. This is the swing and this is my life.
I live on a swing. I go up and down, back and forth. When manic, I swing so high and I don’t slow down. I am a winner. I am invincible. I strip myself of all boundaries. I can do everything. I can make it rain and I can make it stop. I can change the way you see the world and I pity those who don’t see the world through my eyes. I feel sorry for the sad souls who can’t find the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s my world and everyone else is just living in it. I have the power and knowledge to do it all. I feel so confident that this happiness will never fade. I am on top of the world and nothing can stop me. Trust me, I’m better.
Then there's the crashing. You are not you and I am not me, and the world is coming to an end. Shut my door, turn out the lights, and leave me alone to suffer with my thoughts about dying. Don’t tell it me gets better because nothing can stop me from being ready to die. Don’t say you love me because I am so undeserving of love. I’m sorry i’m not me anymore. I’m sorry for bothering you. I’m sorry for being depressed all the time. I’m sorry that dying is all I can talk about. I’m sorry I can’t hold a conversation with you anymore. You’re going to leave me, everyone does. I am no longer in control, my mind is. I don’t remember my passion. I can’t move my body. I can’t feel anything, I’m numb.
I live on a swing. I go really high and other times my feet are on the ground. I live on a swing that doesn’t stop moving. Slows down and speeds up, but doesn’t stop.
I have a mind that's trapped behind the faulty firing of screwed up neurons and broken synaptic connections. I have a mind that wanders so off the grid to places that no one could ever be able to find their way there. I have a mind full of questions that never get answered. I have a mind that wakes up as Tigger some days and Eeyore the next. I have a mind so dark yet so beautiful.
To Those Who Don't Understand My Bipolar Disorder:
Caterpillar into a butterfly:
We learned about it in grade school when we were astonished to see a caterpillar turn into a butterfly. How could something so guarded and caged transform into something so colorful and strong? How can something that didn't even make a movement stretch out wings and fly? Watching these stages taught me about myself in more ways than I ever realized.
I was a lot like the caterpillar. I spent a great amount of time shut down and closed off. I spent months on end in darkness. The months turned into years, years of captivity. The only difference is that the cocoon wasn't what was holding me captive, it was my mental illness. I began struggling with depression and self harm when I was 12 years old. At the time I didn't even know what I was experiencing had a name. I thought it was just sadness that would never end. As the years carried on I just remember my life becoming darker and darker and I couldn't turn on the lights. Fast forward to my senior year of high school, I didn't even know where the light switch was. I hit a breaking point. I spent a few weeks in a psychiatric hospital learning about my illness and finding ways to cope with it. I left feeling like I was "fixed". No more depression, no more isolation, I was happy. This is when I thought I had become the butterfly. Oh, how wrong I was.
Fast forward 2 years. What I thought was a butterfly turned back into a caterpillar in its cocoon. This cocoon was like one I had never experienced. The lows were so low, the highs came and went in an instant. Self harming daily, there was no way out of this one. Every day was a fight to get out of bed, most days I couldn't accomplish getting dressed. My head was full of darkness and the light at the end of the tunnel burnt out. I had no purpose, my life lost its meaning and I didn't have the strength to carry on. I couldn't stand the thought that I would be like this forever. I decided that this life wasn't meant for me anymore. I spent 2 months in a psychiatric hospital where I dug deeper than I ever have before into my emotions and my experiences. I shared about the pain I felt and the thoughts that weighed me down for years. I reflected on myself and learned about my weaknesses but most importantly I stumbled upon my strengths. My strengths began to outweigh my weaknesses. My strengths began to silence the demons inside of me. The more I shared with others around me, the more I felt wings growing in my cocoon. Every time I would tell my negative thoughts that they were lying to me, I began running out of room in my cocoon. When I told myself that I am more than my mental illness, my cocoon opened up. I finally grew my wings.
Fast forward to this present moment. I am out of my cage that kept me trapped for years. I have strong wings that are full of colors and vulnerability. I get my nectar from my support system. I'm able to fly without the fear of being knocked down. I'm no longer ashamed of my mental illness. I'm honest with myself and how I'm feeling. I know how to ask for help when I need it. I'm stronger than I've ever been. I have grown through the stages so beautifully and robustly.
We learned about it in grade school when we were astonished to see a caterpillar turn into a butterfly. Little did I know that some day I would turn into that butterfly.