With a few more nicks on my arms and maybe a few less brain cells (what does clonazepam do, anyway?) but here, heart beating, pulse thready but stable. I have been down and then I have been up and both have been astonishing and uncanny, the sights Lovecraft insists cannot be described.
Now it’s winter. Canadian winter. So, a little bipolar too. We can’t decide HOW we feel, the Canadian winter and I. Do we feel like shedding our tears all over the streets and sidewalks, or do we feel like shrouding ourselves in thick cotton blankets and hiding from the world? Today the (literal) sun was almost blinding when I walked to the grocery store. Many other days the sky has been completely white. I have a friend who describes these days as “dreary”, but I find them soothing.
There are Christmas stickers on my walls and snowmen plushies on my bedside table. I walk around around hearing:
We’re walking in the air
We’re floating in the moonlit sky
and weeping because I am ridiculous like that and everything feels so FULL, like each emotion is breaking out of its container.
I go to sleep with a tiny string of lit-up Christmas lights and the snowmen beside me.
I’m still here.