There was a time when I thought I could be anything. I thought I could climb to the top of the highest mountain, I could write a book and I could become famous too. Yeah, those days I thought anything was possible, and the thing is, it was.
Now, I don’t know where to go.
Somewhere between then and now, something, which was already flawed, completely broke down. It was a chugging machine, pulling it’s heavy load up a hillside, yeah, The Little Engine that Could-that’s the flavour. The load was huge, filled with scars, sounds and mean faces, but the load as movable. Then, I found a reward waiting at the top of that hill, wrapped in splendor, whether recognizable or not. I knew I had been successful, and through my mental illness, my success was illuminated in the bright fires of mania. Even the dark days of depression could not stifle my winnings, and so all was well even when it was falling apart. Get my drift?
Now, something’s wrong, and I don’t like to use the word ‘very’, but I will go ahead and say it. “Something was very wrong.” Every morning, I wake with a newness of life. I have plans for the day, to go jogging, to write a few articles, to bake a cake or paint a picture. By the end of the day, I have written a few articles, blog posts etc, watched two movies, ate three meals and cuddled with the dog. It’s not what I wanted to accomplish by far. I know, I know…seems trivial. But this happens every day.
I must be honest. Honesty, right now, is one of the only things that I have left. You see, I’m sick. I’m not just depressed or plagued by mania, I am also physically sick with chronic fatigue and pain. No, I probably won’t die from it like Cancer, but my life has changed. To add to my physical torment, the forests that I once roamed have been taken away from me, both pieces of land taken by way of death of relatives and friends . I cannot walk beneath the trees and sit in the leaves far past the pond, the fairy portal, and the pasturelands. Sanctuaries, once providing a place for me to escape and reenergize, have been taken away, probably indefinitely.
Things have changed, and I have yet to understand what happened to me. I know that I must adjust, but I’m not sure how much energy it will take to put one foot in front of the other. Sometimes I cannot breathe.
There was a time when I thought I could be anything. Right now, I just want to be me.