Reminiscing back at my old texts, I find that I was very depressed. Down in the loop of sorts, lost within the sorts of all the madness that is life. No way, would anyone know how deep in a hole I was. I was ready to give up my life, I was so ready to give up.

Not anymore.
Now I can’t stop but keep on fighting, every single day is a fight for me. Getting out of bed, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, eating---at least I enjoy that part, sometimes showers too--- it’s all a fight. A fight to keep my life going. Because while I may be bipolar, it is no excuse to give up on my life. So I fight every day for the good fight of my life.

I can’t give up. If I do, there will be no tomorrow.
Medication, after medication, I can tell that there’s a change. There’s improvement. I’m more motivated, maybe even a bit more dedicated, to put motion into my life.
I’m definitely less sedated, off of alcohol and pot, and more in trance with the schedules of my medication that ought to include meditation. But getting down to those parts have become harder and yet easier within the path that I now dream to be taking.

I am dreaming again, I’m no longer just gazing and admiring. While it’s hard to admire, it’s become even easier to aspire.

Now I’m simply dealing with the consequences of time, watching it tick by the minutes and pass by the hours. There’s no escaping the dear ol’ major time-lord. While it is an atrocity, I have come to the ability of watching it fly by as I remember to not pay attention to the clock. That’s when I truly know, I truly have beat time, not by making it my bitch and using as much of it, but by slowing myself down enough that I’ve enjoyed my time and have allowed it to pass by without allowing it to have me break a sweat because the hour took its sweet ass time making its way to the o’clock.

So hey, I’m doing better. Better than “What If They Knew” which I wrote 1.5 years ago.

What If They Knew
What would the people say if they knew, if they knew that who I am is nothing like who I pretend to be?

What would they say if they knew, if they knew that what is meaningless to them is meaningful to me?
What would they say if they knew, if they knew that I am more at home now than I ever was before?
What would they say if they knew, if they knew that I have never been this happy?
What would they say if they knew, if they knew that I am helpless?