For fear of losing myself, I take time to get in my head and to lift my spirits through the strength of Jesus Christ. On my own, I fail to save myself. I know this, so I fight to reach in and surrender.
When I see the rays of light beam from eastern, darkened skies.. And watch radiant colors fill the space My heart warms and life embrace. Every streak a promise to be, for new beginnings awakened from sleep. And treasures will come, hope will rise, when I stop to admire His beautiful skies.
I 'found' myself in Florida. That silly cliche never appealed to me until I could relate. I fell in love with my soul in the few years we were blessed to live there.
I don't choose to hide my truth in some closet in hopes of fooling anyone. I make no claims to owning the answers for mental health. I am not the authority on anything.
This is the seesaw of bipolar, the ups and downs of a bipolar mind. We fight to carry on. Some days consist of fighting deep, dark thoughts. Other days, our strength lead the way through chaos..
And sorrow cascades in a hushed certainty.
Fading in and out of reality.
And joy evades, and hope carries away..
what is sure to come again on a better day.
Depression is hard, but we keep trying.
If I disappear...
You're not a failure. Never forget that.
We talk about mental illness and death after suicide, but it seems beneficial to discuss the reality that before there came suicide, there was a mental illness. Just like before there came an overdose; there was an addiction.