Last night, I posted that I have been having a depressive episode publicly on Facebook. I didn't do it because I wanted people to feel sorry for me. I did it because I wanted some public accountability for getting out of it, and also to let people know that if I don't talk to them as often, it's nothing personal. I was contacted by a friend I hadn't heard from in a while. He told me he empathised, and the reason I hadn't heard from him was because he had been in and out of in-patient psych treatment. I remembered when I was in the hospital for a while. At the time, I truly was a danger to myself and others, and it was the safest place for me, but I remember feeling as if I was being punished. It's like a minimum-security prison. They take away your phone and Internet and monitor everything you do. I'm glad I went, at the time, but the thought of going back to a place like that is scary. Isolation is one of, if not the biggest trigger I have. Talking to him should have comforted me, I suppose, but all I could think about was, what if I have another psychotic break? What if I have another episode like I did the other night, and I can't snap myself out of it? I don't want to go back to that place in my head, or that place in my past. So what are my options? Medications that will take away my creativity, my sex drive and my personality? It scares me. Why can't I just excise the fear that infects my mind, and still be fully who I am? What will it take?
And then, I feel it. I feel the fire in my soul. I feel Him reaching out to me, with a bright beam of light like a life-line, pulling me from the dark. He shines in the darkness, making me beautiful, making everything sparkle. He pulls me straight through the fire to burn away my fear. He turns terror to laughter and madness to beauty. He distracts me with His magic, and tricks me into believing I am okay... and it works, because eventually, I am. Every time. He holds me close to Him and I fall asleep like a child in His arms. He tells me stories and brings me dreams of passion and power, to be made manifest in words and in art.
More must be made.
More must be done.
I really feel this in a sense. The fire I mean. The magic, and the distraction. It does happen suddenly like that. Poof. There it is when you are about to break. I'm glad you have that. Pushing past the fear and pain is hard. I've not gone through as much as you, but I've had moments. I can't even imagine what it must be like to live with it that often. I love you for this.
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