Learning To Live

Lost

I'm lost.

Not in the directional sense of the world I know my north and south. The kind of lost I'm talking about is the kind where you know where you are but your spiritually far from there. My mind is an endless pool of what am I doing? Is this worth it? Why can't it be this way? What went so wrong?

I can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that I'm not okay. It's seems to unbelievable, I smile, I laugh I go out and see friends and socialise. I used to hate the saying that your wearing a mask and that when your alone you take it off, but I couldn't think of any other way to describe it. It's so real.

I have a condition called bipolar, and not the kind that everyone uses to describe there mood swings when they get mad or an obsessed female chasing a boy. I'm bipolar. I get happy and I get sad. However my happy is the equivalent of drinking 300 energy drinks, I can work 16 hours a day and not even realise how tired my body is. I get impulsive and think it's a great day to go play in traffic.

Then I crash.

I get sad and not just I'm going to cry sad, it's I no longer want to wake up every morning. It's crippling anxiety that makes believe that the whole world is out to get me. It's guilt I can't explain, it's hating what you see in the mirror, hating what you feel and having no hope that it's going to get any better.

I like to compare it to an airport. I fly then I land. People seem to assume that when I smile and laugh that I've seen the light at the end of the tunnel that I've made it to the bright side, so they talk to me about what's going on in there life. I love to help anyone who trusts me enough to talk to me but it's when the feeling can't be returned that's it turns into an airport. I take your baggage so you don't have to carry it to your destination. However I think maybe I'd like to be the passenger at some point.

So for this journey I'm the passenger and you are my airport.