i must tell you, my love...

i must tell you, my love, that you are my heart.

you are the sun and I am the planet which encircles you.

i am ever so close, yet somehow so far away.
i wonder if you feel the warmth of your sun.

i must tell you, my love, that you are my heart.

Let me preface this…

Let me preface this by saying that I consider myself, in general,  to be a positive, grateful gal. I practice gratitude daily.   Heck, not only do I keep a gratitude journal, I list things for which I’m grateful as I shower every morning (“If I list the top 10 blessings in my life quickly, I’ll finish by the time I wash my hair”.)

Despite this there are merely those mornings. You know what I’m talking about. (“Do any of us ever wake up feeling like a total, well, you know?”).

It may be due to a dull headache which has lasted several days or noticing a new pain in a part of body you had long ago forgotten (“Seriously?!! Is this what getting older feels like?”)

It could it be that glass of wine you drank last night or not hydrating yourself throughout the day (“Did I drink at least 8 glasses of water?”).

It may be due to that time of year when the holidays roll around;  when Facebook and Instagram can be tauntingly torturous.  (“Doesn’t anyone ever post that their life may not be picture perfect?”).

Fortunately, I find that this morning crankiness generally lessens throughout the day with a.) sunshine, b.) exercise; c.) my pets (a, b, or c-or a combination of the three.  (“Thank you, God!”).

You are a wonder...

My son and I survived the requisite family Christmas dinner today. We decompressed and debriefed afterward when we arrived at home tonight over a glass of wine.  We discussed many things of importance--family dynamics, family history, alliances and choices. My son at 23 is much wiser than I was at his age, or for that matter more than I ever hope to be. 

This is what I felt compelled to email him tonight after he called it a night:

"I'm not good at telling you this (nor are you the most comfortable receiving this) but I must tell you that you are a wonder.  You are truly a wonder."

Yoga...

It not only firms your butt, it firms your mind.

Believe all things are as they should be…

Live simply

Love deeply

Don’t be a cliché

Be genuine & true

Be grateful & kind

Listen not only to your heart but your mind

Travel often & far

Make memories that last

Let go of material things
Keep those who love you close
Keep those who you love closer

Discard who & what does not serve you

Love who you are & who were destined to be

Believe that all things are as they should be

What those negative emotions feel like for a person with bipolar disorder…

If we are adults and have lived in this oftentimes chaotic world, if we are honest with ourselves, we all have experienced moments of transient depression.  That feeling of being down, of being blue.  Most of those times this feeling is precipitated by a time of year (Thanksgiving or Christmas) or of a situation (loss of a family member, a friend, of a pet; maybe the dissolution of a marriage). 

Clinical depression is different.  It is a downward spiral.  It is a physical sensation of a heaviness on one's chest, like when you dive into a pool and stay a bit too long under water.  This sensation is not frightening.  It’s scary as hell.  You do all the things you are told to do to alleviate this ailment.  You stay busy, you practice gratitude, you exercise, you serve others.  Because you are not only high functioning, but you are also a pleaser, you mask those feelings of hopelessness. Those closest to you may sense that something is “off” but you continue to mask these physical and emotional upheavals. You get up every morning.  You shower and make your bed. You feign normalcy.  There is a fear though, of this depression.  You don’t want to sink to where you once were, many years ago.  You see a psychiatrist who has prescribed a mood stabilizer for your bipolar illness and you take the recommended dosage at night, hoping for a leveling off this malady and wishing for an uninterrupted night’s sleep. You feel so tired, so fatigued at the effort it takes to fight off this demon.  Thoughts, however fleeting, cross your mind.  They promise an end to the seemingly never-ending work of feeling normal, of feeling “okay”.  Yet you wouldn’t make this choice because of your responsibilities (a family who needs you; the realization that stopping your pain will lead to a lifetime of pain for your loved ones). So, you push forward, day after day.  If you are fortunate and this weight off your chest begins to dissipate you think that you might just make it through.

And there is the other side of this depression when you are an individual with bipolar illness.  Equally as frightening as the depression is, there is the possibility of feeling better, better, better until you surpass that bell curve of normal mood swings and move toward a manic phase.  It feels like such a relief to not feel the crushing pain of depression that you are grateful for a reprieve.  There is that thought that crosses your mind…if I stop taking my mood stabilizer for a day or two I may begin to feel so good it may feel akin to euphoria.  You don’t dare do this though as you never want to go back to that place of utter loss of control. Because of this you ride out the depressive episode until you swing just enough  to that bell curve of normalcy.

Despite...

Despite being in this middle-aged body, she knew that once (she hoped not too long ago) she was wild and free. She had that memory and recalled a young woman who thought (at one time) she might rule her world. Despite finding herself in a more pedestrian life, she knew that (buried deep inside) that girl still remained—unbridled by today’s conventions, wild and free.

Stillness...

Every night I need to take an hour to myself before I close my eyes. I need this time alone to read, to meditate, to decompress. In a word, just to be. Stillness, calmness and peace are my dearest companions. Daily life is filled with busyness, with breaking news, with chaos. The very act of intentional, purposeful stillness is essential to my body, mind and soul.