I don’t know why it took me so long to get here…. I’ve always had much to say.
But then I would have a lot of nothing to say. On those times that I couldn’t talk I would write. No, not journaling(although I’ve always had one), but poetry.
Through my poems I found I had more to say than I thought. I thought I didn’t care about politics but my words told a different story.
Writing taught me I felt a lot more than I was willing to admit out loud. My poems taught me that I had a story to tell, but wasn’t ready to share.
For years I read, wrote, painted, collected whatever I could to keep my ever busy mind occupied. But nothing helped….
Let’s backtrack some, I was never the happiest person, I wasn’t the most trusting, but I always made my voice heard. All of this we will get back to at some other time, but for Now let’s move forward again.
I suddenly lost my voice, I didn’t know why. I couldn’t understand it. I was sad and kept crying and back then I hated tears because I though they showed weakness. I know better now. To cry shows more strength in your character, than to hold it in.
Now let’s get to the present.
All the confusion and tears and unhappiness(in my adult years) were about Bi-polar 2. I didn’t know at the time and then when I got diagnosed I was in denial like most people because there is this stigma about mental health.
So this long roundabout post is about me and the daily struggles of bipolar and other fun things, as well as how I live with it and keep trying to achieve my dreams.