I thought the pain would never end.
I was wrong.
Each day that passes I let go of a memory.
If your memories are my scars I am removing them, one by one.
If your memories have burned me, these wounds are healing slowly.
I thought nothing could take away the pain-but-as they say-time heals all wounds.
It is true what they say. Time works magic.
We just have to be patient with time and heal slowly. Healing, real healing, takes time. It cannot be rushed.
Day by day, joy comes back to me.
I am starting to feel like myself again.
A whole and free spirit, not trapped, but flying peacefully through time, expecting less and less of what I wanted in the past–
I remember my longing for you and I find it silly now–
“Why do we need an other to feel one?” There are many answers to this question but perhaps it is to feel like we belong to something, that we are part of something.
Now, human companionship and intimacy are very important but we can find love in so many things: in nature, in art, in literature, in the beauty of meditation, etc.
I found love in myself-and that longing-for you-has evolved into a longing for me.
It isn’t narcissism. It’s self-love and there’s a great difference.
What I mean is that I don’t imagine a fantasy of being with a soul mate any longer, rather I imagine myself in a peaceful and quiet place somewhere cool and beautiful, staring nature right in the face. I imagine myself swimming in warm waters and feeling the sun hit my pale skin. I imagine myself listening to live orchestral music and feeling true love in a way I had never imagined.
A love that lives in time. That is perhaps the most eternal love.
It hurts that I remember, it hurts that you are not mine
It hurts that you exist without me-in this moment-in this time
It hurts that I know nobody will ever live up to your name
For you are one and only my dear, if you only knew how I cherish your name,
It hurts that your memory is burned in my conscience, forever in this time,
If it were to be over sooner, I would only ask to see your face one last time.
Recently I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and I came to the conclusion that I have to accept the fact that I’m not normal. I’m different. I have a disability that is masked by the appearance of being an average person, but those close to me know what I’ve been the through. They saw me at my worst, when I was hospitalized for psychosis. They’ve also seen the great progress I’ve made since then. Following my hospitalization I was absent from university for a semester. I was on meds throughout that semester and continued to write through my recovery process. That summer, the summer of 2016, I stopped taking medication suddenly. I returned to school in August and finished my semester intact. The only thing (and serious at that) that happened was that I almost had another psychosis (I felt it coming) because I had been without meds for months. The moral of this story is, if you’re diagnosed with bipolar disorder or another mental illness and you think it’s ok to stop taking your meds without consulting a doctor, think again. I started taking my meds after I regressed and I’ve been on them for about three months. I have to say that I feel good. I feel healthy. And I owe that to medicine. There is a stigma surrounding mental health issue that we need to eliminate. I share this because I want others to know that we don’t have to feel sick–we can feel good–we just have to be open to help and getting treatment.
Today I feel like myself. I don’t feel manic or depressed–I feel stable.
I’m not sure what it’s going to be like tomorrow, or near week for that matter but I know that as long as I take care of myself, there is a good chance that everything is going to be alright.