This is not what I had planned

I wish I was a professional artist who had enough time to indulge words and senses all day long. To feel fulfilled. To feel passionate. To feel satisfied. To express, unrestricted and unrestrained. To be dark or expansive without excuse. To feel I’m living a purpose. To be true. Unapologetically true. To feel alive. Because this, this is not what I had planned.

Change, they say. Get a new job. New friends. Move house. Move town. Get a hobby. Get a life coach, a personal trainer, a financial adviser, a lover, a husband. You are your own change, they say. Follow your dreams, they say. Live a life you have designed….. Live simply, dream big…… Live with no regrets…..

They? The ones that make it sound so simple? They are the ones who live free. Myself? My reality is I am forced to live within the limits of my illness to survive. Bipolar a heavy weight of confinement and commitment to my personal management plan – avoiding triggers and over-stimulation, keeping to a strict sleep pattern and predictable daily routine to maintain stability. My world is stunted, narrowed. Every, single, day. Whittled away piece by piece with each year I age. My soul inked with sadness. My mind stolen by mania. My body raked by fatigue. Bipolar is my dominatrix. So here I rot. Deceived by hope. Dreams far from my grasp. This is not what I had planned.

Twenty One Pilots (Forrest)

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16 comments

  1. Wrenching writing/ I find similarity in your feelings. I am torn constantly to believe that my life is no longer what it can be because of the disorder. I have no space to know what is real, and I must stick to the same pattern of being in order to survive. It is exhausting, and I am constantly insecure about my place in the life, the world and this space that I am in. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Yes! Its about trying to control that which is uncontrollable. So we take meds to establish some sort of control but the side effects of the meds are beyond our control. Its a vicious cycle. And I’m finding lately I’m becoming more and more paranoid. Well I hope that’s the case and they’re not all plotting against me 😉

      Like

      1. Im getting better slowly at picking up paranoia versus actual emotion but it take so much time and effort. I get it a lot around work and Mr A cheating on me (which has never happened, it’s just a paranoia of mine). I just hope that by picking up on it will diffuse its power.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I won’t pretend to know what it’s like. Your words echo feelings and experiences I have but I wouldn’t dream to compare.
    A painful yet profectic piece of writing. I despise though people who speak about changing your attitude, making your own change. For an artistic soul that’s not a guarantee. It’s easy to find a place when you fit in.
    Keep striving and keep hope alive!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. So grateful for your kind words, Ava. To relate means you are not alone in this struggle. I guess we’re all a band of brothers/sisters, and there’s always strength in numbers. And we get to share our strength to support one another

      Liked by 1 person

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