Look Into My World

A tumbler of Sailor Jerry sits at my right hand, cooling on the rocks.  The day behind me, the night before me, I wait for the last rays of the sun to dip down behind the horizon.

I still cycle.  I go up.  I go down.  I get manic.  I lose all energy.

I have lost all energy.  I am at the bottom of the trough in my mood waves.  And I never know when I'll hit the crest again.  It could be tonight, it could be tomorrow, it could be next week.  I take my mood stabilizers, but sometimes I feel they aren't enough, that they don't really help.  Although I really have noticed an improvement in myself in comparison with the me even just a year ago.

Wouldn't it be easier, I think, just to completely numb to yourself?  To feel nothing, to have the doctors prescribe something so strong that completely knocks me off my feet.  Able to function, but with none of the anxiety or fear or mood and attitude swings.  It would be easier, far easier.  And sometimes I am tempted.  I have been tempted by many many things.  I have done many many things.  But I still can't make myself do this, to numb myself completely.

I still want to feel.  For what is life without a little pain?  Are not the good times more sweet because we know the ache of disappointment and hurt?  Are not the times when I am finally stable and not manic or depressive better and more precious because I see the extremes?

I get so pensive.  We have constructed a fire pit outside our house in the backyard, along with an outdoor patio type building.  Each night, I stare into the fire and think my private thoughts.  Things that haunt me, things I wonder about, things that I think are yet to come.  I try talking about these thoughts to other people, but the words don't come to make sentences others would understand.  In my head, I can mull these things.  I am having trouble even wording in this post how and what I think.

It is truly beautiful out here.  Blue sky turning purple, grass green and lush at my toes, tumbler half empty, or half full, depending on your perspective.  Cool breeze barely moving my hair at my neck and temples.  I could sleep.  

And perhaps I will.