I found a note in my drawer today. I had written on it: It’s always darkest before you turn on the lights. It perfectly summarizes how I feel. Where I am. My full body is in a cramp. I am anxious and moving between extremes – from happy to sad, elated to depressed.
In my last post I wrote about fighting the insecurities and pushing forward. But I have to admit I’m guilty of falling into the dark pit of negativity just after publishing the post. I felt darkness hugging me. It took away my hopes, optimism and trust in making my dreams happen – or anything for that matter. I could feel myself be surrounded with a black cloud. I sensed heaviness. From being on a white fluffy cloud, I ended up on one of despair. What an amateur case of bipolar disorder.I knew I wasn’t hiding it at all. And I didn’t care.
I know myself well enough to be aware that I have to let it go and overcome it with time. Let myself be depressed. And let it pass. I told my family and friends that there’s nothing wrong but I just feel melancholic. Weighted down.
For a few days I allowed the weight of my dreams, hopes and goals to drown me. To squeeze the air out of my lungs. I didn’t need to cry or to console myself with anything. I just had to wait it out. And I did.
I put music on. Danced and sang to until my voice was raspy. Went to the movies to watch Neighbours 2 with a friend. Laughed. And didn’t give the negativity lurking around my spirit consume another minute of my mind.
And today? It’s not perfectly light and bright. But it’s getting there. Just like everything else.