This journey called now

On this journey of mine called life, called womanhood, called artistry, newly added called menopause and everything else going on, there are emotional ups and downs. I don't know all of the triggers; but I'm learning some along the way: stress, diet, daily experiences that bring up memories from painful, embarrasing, uncomfortable parts of my past I thought I was over. This journey is Revolution (yes, the roller coaster at Six Flags). There are smooth even spots where I am brick enough to handle the trials and blessings on my platter. Then, and sometimes by surprise but often not, the tracks jerk right or left and the sun is in my face or water is all over me from who knows where? Somebody's coke, an irresponsibly placed pond, you get it. From zero to sixty I am cotton candy. Pickled.

On my high days, and high is becoming just as dangerous and scary as low, I am discovering, I am the life of the party. I am all over the place. Talking crazy fast, buzzing around everwhere, laughing... What's scary is that on even days I'm like this too so it's hard to tell from the outside whether I'm sky rocketing or just feeling good. But I know. I know because of the out of control feeling I have throughout it. I'm on the outside of the party my evil way too happy twin is throwing. The coffee, I think is responsible for the new off the chart highs. When I "gave up" sugar (and I use the phrase gave up so loosely I shouldn't even use it) I "replaced" sweets with coffee. I was never really a coffee drinker. And no, I couldn't use the organic coffee with fake sugar from Trader Joes, nooooooo, I had to go full out and get the good Mobil gas station French vanilla. Always a large too. Always. Anyway after the crazy talking too fast highs there is always a crash that follows. Uuuuugggg, the crash. When none of the fun folks from the day before are around. Just me. Me. I get invited to this party. Thanks.

I read an article by Bassey Ipki (awesome poet doing phenomenal work speaking out on her experience living with Bipolar II disorder) and she said something I now use when I'm feeling...low. "Allow yourself morning." How powerful is that? Because morning feels so far away and almost impossible when I'm going through it. Morning? Are you kidding? The next breath is a bitch. But I do, I allow myself morning. No matter the thoughts, I breathe and know (or at least search for the knowing) that the low is temporary, no matter how scary. It gets tiring sometimes, checking in with where my mood is every minute of the day. "Uncle. Goddammit. Uncle." Bassey Ipki.

It's after midnight following an especially good weekend for me so I will not spend the energy on this post giving examples of unhealthy thoughts that come and processes and feelings during the lows. Not this post. Just wanted to check you in on the surface of it. But again, this weekend was good and I acknowledge myself for taking especially good care of myself when the mood was/is even and beautiful. I got a manicure and pedicure, had a photoshoot, went to an event for women's month, saw friends, went on a date with Love and allowed myself...the moment. And then the next.

I am believing God for more even days. Please God, seriously. And I am breathing. Loving myself through all of the its.

Take care of yourselves today. I love you. I do.