Journal of Me

And then I went here, and then I did this.  It is easy to reduce our life to an itinerary, but that is obviously quite superficial.  As the old adage reminds us, we are human beings, not human doings.  Full frontal mental and emotional nudity is not the kind of vulnerable expression the Internet is famous for.  When you do encounter “real self awareness” it is often sensationalized to the point of dubious veracity.  Cartoons are easier to take than simple etchings in the sinews of the soul.  That being said, what I share here will have a tough time living up to my intro, possibly.  Let’s see.

Day 1- I am depressed.  It is the sort of thing that happens to a bipolar individual.  It is not a surprise, but an unfortunate reminder of  the tremulous nature of my mind’s equilibrium.  If it weren’t happening to me at this moment, it might be interesting in a bemused scientific way.  Regardless, I have been here before.  Sometimes for months, sometimes for more than a year.  I am hoping in this instance to set a new personal best for shortest spell.  It’s been a week so far.  If you want to place bets or something, I won’t be offended.  Exercise, routine, fun activities, sleep and all that good stuff will definitely be coming in to play.  And I won’t back down, if I believe something is important.  My brain will have to explode and dribble from my ears before I sheepishly duck my head and turn painfully away.  I may be depressed, but I am still me.  There are spiritual frequencies that I believe will also help me persist in this time of unrelenting torpor.  Well, this has been great and I think we have enough for Day One of the broken brain saga.  Hopefully, the days ahead will sing a new tune.

Day 4 months in the future-I am alright.  There exists confusion and doubt within me, but these are bolstered by hope and excitement.  With each passing day, I marvel at the growing height of my selfishness.  The values, principles, and faith I so readily give lip service to bow before the weight of my desire to do whatever I want, whenever I want.  It is hard to live with other people if you insist on putting your needs first.  Anything outside of your imposing will, that must be imposed, becomes an irritation.  And walking around irritated leads to frustration, eventually anger.  This helps no one.  Perspective is paramount.  Life is not about me.  The whooshing sound is not the world orbiting me; it is rather the sound of a cycle I initiate, precluding real interaction and intimacy.  In my current state, introspection is nauseating, as if I somehow have to justify my magnificent actions and attitudes.  Before I vomit (or you, too), I will end this illuminating vivisection.  I pray that God gives me the strength to pull my head out of my ask me later how it all works out.

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