Here We Go

Starting the period of One Year Marks this week; today, actually. The realization hit me when I read a tweet heralding the start of an annual activity where I used to work. I remember that period last year very well. I remember one very distinct afternoon, in fact. While all those activities were underway, I was in the bathroom, shaking and crying. And then, a few minutes after that, I was jumping up and down, cheering and screaming (for the said activity, not out of the blue).

It's very difficult to relive those moments, even with the distance of time (and space as I have not been even remotely near that place in so long). But snippets of that period waft in and out of my mind from time to time (a lot more these days) and I always feel, I dunno, tired—I suppose?—after a recollection. The effort to keep all those strange, confusing, and crushing memories at bay knocks the wind out of me.

From this vantage point, I can't help but be grateful for being alive, for surviving all of that. But I long for a time when I can stop identifying myself as a person who is living with Bipolar Disorder. (But I know I can never really be rid of this.)

Or, to be at peace with the fact that I am a person living with Bipolar Disorder. (Because I know I can never really be rid of this.)

Or, to just—ugh—be. (Because. Ugh, ugh.)

Ugh.

But here come the drums. It's time. Happy anniversaries. Here we go.