It looks and feels like this blog has become a place for me to have some sort of emotional cartharsis, which isn't exactly what I had planned. My writers have been somewhat timid so far, but now that they have read some of the things I've written, they're feeling less inhibited about posting.
So, it seems for now, all of us with the "Order of the Bi-Polar Disorder," will be utilizing this site for our personal insight and for the expansion of other minds.
I'm just going to let this site develop itself. If it's emotions we are dealing with, past post traumatic stress issues, relationships, mood swings, depression, I really don't care, I want it written here.
As much as I am a different person on my KVHD blog, that is a whole different ballgame. It's a style, a character, created for a certain type of situation.
But it doesn't really belie who I really am. And since I'm quite interested in who I am and why I'm still alive, I come here to say it.
And I've invited others and insisted that they let down the facade and really talk. About anything.
Who I am now was forged from the fires of the Kern River Valley, I place I came to sick and looking for a den to crawl in. But the type of healing that I recieved was probably not like most who find a doctor and a pill, and head back down the path.
I found a doctor and a pill allright, but that was not what healed me. Oh, do I think I'm healed?
In fact I do. I'm healed in my acceptance of myself.
My self esteem works like this: as bi-polar the continual flipping off and on of the light switch, causes continual changes in perspective, so I believe simply that I am no better or no worse than anyone else.
It's an even playing field. We are all great in one way and ghastly in another.
I've learned to forgive myself, which is the hardest thing I practice, a real work out to say "it's okay to screw up."
Holding such high standards for myself, I found that I would always fall short somehow. I tried ditching the standards for "anything goes" but could not live that way either.
Then when my life lessons came to me one after the other, I didn't try to put out the fire, I just let it burn me, until I was completely gone.
Or at least I thought I was. What I found left seemed to be the core of me. Alive and well and ready to rock on.
If the many things hadn't happened, I would not have had the opportunity, the god given chance, to know who I am. And I am just your average anyone.
I breath, I cry, I laugh, I die, just like anyone else. What a concept.
Either I was too small or too large, nothing I was wearing before fit me.
When I say I'm healed, I don't necessarily mean that I've reached perfection or homeostasis, I mean I'm healed enough to begin repairing the rest.
Before, I was lost. Lost in my intellect, lost in my chemistry, but I've got a map.
Whatever this blog turns out to be, I want it to be honest and heartfelt in what we do here.
When we feel silly, we will be silly. When there is pain, then let it be pain. When there is sorrow let there be sorrow. When there is failure let it be a lesson. And when there is success, let it be appreciated.
There are a lot of projects I am working on, from bed to desk all day and night, but I will now consider this blog my touchstone to who I really am.
And hopefully, it will ground me to this place in time where I have arrived.