Dreams
Dreams
I don’t remember having dreams- not a nice dream anyway. The only dreams I remember are nightmares that plagued me to the point that I sedated myself to get some rest.
But opening up and writing about my past has opened me up to dreaming once more.
I don’t honestly know if they’re dreams or memories but I’m not waking up crying or scared like I used to. Or angry.
I’m beginning to wake up feeling complete.
But as the day wears on I feel empty. I feel like the shell of a person, empty. Hollow. Nothing.
I want so much more than this provincial life.
I think of the small things that’ll make me happy- like singing, photography, reading and writing.
Then I think of the bigger things and I draw a blank.
Who am I without the depression that haunts me?
Who am I without the mania that drives me?
Who am I when my dreams turn back to black?
I have blocked out so much of my life- middle school, high school. I don’t remember who I am because those formative years are gone.
Or maybe they never existed to me.
#BipolarDepression #Bipolar1 #MentalHealth #BipolarDisorder #Manic #ManicEpisodes #Depression