I am an artist at heart, from music, to painting, to furniture building. And as of recently, writing. I am currently working on my second novel. I live in farm country of Central New York with my husband and two of my children.
I Hate Housework
I don’t work outside of the home. After brain surgery for a Chiari Malformation and with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder, I was taken out of work. It has been five years now, and while I still struggle with the physical symptoms and am not able to do the thing I used to, I have settled somewhat. I have accepted that where I am at is as good as it gets. I will not get better. Because of the surgery, though, I will not get worse. The bipolar disorder will never go away, but it can be managed. I have a fantastic mental health team, and an excellent support system made up of friends and family. It doesn’t escape me how blessed I am to have both of those things.
The Ghost of Christmas Dysfunction
Before we get to the story, let me tell you who I am. No one talks about me on their Christmas cards or in their “Christmas edition” family newsletters, which by the way, is just to show everyone they are keeping up with the Jones’s. No group of carolers will be singing my name or singing about me. There are no tv specials or movies about me. Everyone likes to pretend I don’t exist, but oh, I do. All the drama, chaos, and general holiday fuckery you experience during your holidays? Yup. That’s me. I’m the Ghost of Christmas Dysfunction.
I feel its darkness lurking. I know it is there, so I expect it. Even so, I am never prepared for it. It's black, twisted vines reaching out like tentacles from some ancient sea beast. The vines ensnare me, grappling my legs and wrists the whole time, pulling me ever closer to the darkness. Suffocating, all-enveloping darkness. A place where my mind is no longer my own.
And So I Ramble
I collect thoughts in my head, and I store ideas in my mind. I make plans for a later time, and I dream dreams of things that could be and tuck them away in my heart. I ask myself rhetorical questions that have no answer. And I think. All. The. Time.
I'm building a kingdom with you. Only you aren't interested in making a castle. You'd rather play in the sandbox. I'm building a life with you. Only you are unable to make a life with someone. You'd rather hide your blocks and throw them all around.
This pill is for anxiety. Another pill to stabilize my “mood”. Yet another to manage bipolar mania. And still, another to help me sleep.
Where We Lay
We were so young, so naïve to the world But nothing could stand in our way We were bold, independent, hell bent on proving them wrong
I love you, because you gave me life. I hate you because you took so much of it away. I love you for giving me hugs, and holding me tight. I hate you for the physical rage.