Saturday, September 19, 2015

From journal entry 9-18-15

It's 1:03 pm and I am sitting outside of Starbucks drinking a PowerAde I bought from a store down the street this morning. I'm on Melrose Ave. on a break from teaching two poetry classes at Fairfax High. I have one more to go.

I've been dealing with a bout of depression for over a month now. It takes a lot of energy for me to do the simplest things it seems. I see my doctor again early next month. There are moments though, like now when I feel the clouds leaving my body and I see my life as full and beautiful, even exciting. The depression is a part of being bipolar. It happens. I'm not the only one. This isn't the first time. This too will pass. All that.

I pray every day. I pray prayers of thanksgiving for waking me up. Waking my son up. Keeping us in God's care. I pray often. Prayers keep me. Prayers keep me alive and able to see life as something to enjoy even when things aren't going the way I want them to go. When the rent is a little late, when the cabinets are not stocked with all the cereals for my son. I am not a loser. My brain doesn't always agree, but whatever.

In this moment. On this Starbucks stoop. On this break. I am okay. And that's what matters. This moment.

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