It fell upon me. The darkness. The delusions. The voices. Slowly. Cunningly. I didn't realize it...somehow, I just thought I was special. That God only spoke to me ! The grandiosity of it all made me feel not only special but the perks of having Schizoaffective and Bipolar Disorder caused a flight of feelings like no other. It made me feel free, unconcerned, creative and powerful...and then I would hide away. Embarrassed, ashamed, empty and depleted. It's like a reserve of these feelings were percolating inside...just waiting, ready...to erupt.
I never thought I would be here. In a place where time seems to stand still and yet at time runs forward without me. A place where the understanding is not mine to know. I acknowledge this place, but I don't know how to accept it, still. The irony is the ability to let go and allow time to heal my wounds but yet I am locked up and frozen in parallel. Where acceptance is the mode of transportation to a future, I have dreamed about. A future I don't know where leads. And somehow it frightens me because of the fear I've lived with. A fear of everything with me and a fear without. I have lived with nothing but fear for so many years. I do not know of anything. If there is a means or a way to acceptance it has steered me off course for so long that conveying would be to reach within to a deep and dark place I do not want to face. It's defined by standards we have set of ignorance. It's defined by loneliness. It's a space set well apart from anything we have come to k