I practice getting in my own way like it's an artform. Sometimes, when things seem to be going really smoothly, I experience this sense of uneasiness like I'm waiting for the next trauma to unravel in front of me like a red carpet. This is sort of how I lived my life following my diagnosis and Rory's absence of one (thank god, again); except instead of waiting for these traumas to present themselves, I was intentionally enabling them to happen. I've always considered myself to be driven in purpose by passion. If I feel something intensely, which I most always do, I act upon that feeling. It's exhausting. I remember presenting a self-reflection exercise in college where I collaged dismantled pieces of my body onto a photograph of trees. I think I went on about missing the energizing flow of nature and feeling unwhole in the city without it, among other things. My teacher placed her hand on my shoulder after my presentation and whispered, "It must be hard, huh? You know, feeling everything so deeply?" I just nodded my head and gave her a half-smile while thinking to myself, "Yeah, it really fucking sucks…" I always thought this was a quirk about me… a characteristic I might outgrow later in life. Well, turns out you don't outgrow bipolar disorder. I wouldn't get this diagnosis until years down the road, but let's just say the symptoms of the disorder were overwhelmingly present.
To read this blog in its entirety, click here.
Thank you <3
Thank you so much, Krista. Love you and am very thankful for you!