d.a.n.c.e // justice

https://open.spotify.com/track/2hQCzcb3qyZirWzOD5Yzoj?si=12pASueVSI-RGd8C0I7g2A

if you wanna learn/see/feel a window into what it’s like to have bipolar one disorder, then read this memoir —

An Unquiet Mind // Kay Redfield Jamison

i find myself

checking/

ticking/

noting/

to

see

if my

mood has

destabilized/ or

come “unhinged”

as one of my

close friends

so lovingly

called me

a month

ago.

\\

fuck you —

you know who

you are. //

and i know now

who you

fucking

arent.

\\

anyway —

and it hasnt.

nor do i believe

it will so

long

as i take

care of myself

and am brutally

honest with

myself

and

everyone

in my life. which,

i talk a lot and i actively

seek out the truth

in all things,

so im not

scared

there.

///

i find myself

eerily aware

of whatever

it is that lives

inside my brain

that makes me

me./

of whatever

makes me

tick.

tack.

tick.

tock.

///

i find myself

freshly and fully

cognizant of

how i yam

feeling/

as

though

ive been

given a key

to understand

myself — to unlock

myself. a key to

me, if you

will. i

feel

unlocked

in a way that

ive only ever felt

locked before.

ive felt so

utterly locked

before. ive felt —

yeah, “unhinged,”

i guess, (but i

can say that

about me

and you

can’t)

and

broken

and lost

and

alone.

ive felt that.

ive felt that pain

pulse through

my veins so

forcefully

one might have

thought it was the

only thing keeping me

alive. but it killed

me, too. ive

been there.

ive seen darkness

without any hope

of ever finding

any sort

of

light.

i know ive

lived in

that

bloody

fkn place —

but that place

seems foreign to

me now. that

place in

which

i felt

so

comfortable —

but, God, never. fucking.

comfortable. —

that place i

trudged through

day in and day out.

that place i

doused

with

weed and

sleep

and disordered

thoughts and

self-inflicted

pain and

self

sabotage —

that place where

i used to feel

at home

as well as on

fire. that place

i felt unavoidably

and, in some ways,

beautifully connected

to. that place where i lost

myself. that place.

ive been there.

ive found

myself

there.

but

im

not

there

anymore.

and though

for years I felt

so viscerally

and

systematically

forced into

that place,

i can no

longer

imagine

myself there.

i can no

longer

feel

that place.

i no longer feel

connected to that

place, which is

hauntingly

surreal

in a

lot

of

ways.

its not a

bad thing by

any means —

its just

strange.

it was a part

of me and

seemingly my

identity for

so long.

i even

began to

accept and

welcome it as

part of my

brand.

‘rae

is

dark/

brooding/

mysterious;

rae is depressed.

rae is cold/

distant.’

ive always

seen the beauty

in suffering,

and so it

made

sense to me

that id live in it.

it made sense

to me that

thats

where i

was supposed

to be. i was

never

happy

there,

obviously,

but at least i had

an image/ a

place to

call

my

own.

a brand.

at least i had

something

in a

place

of nothing;

and that

something

was just

me.

//

but now?

im still me,

and i’m healthy.

now that im

not in that

place,

i feel free.

i feel seen.

i feel happy?

me? rae?

feels

happy?

a new brand?

//

“happy”

doesnt

even

sound

like

a

real

word

lmaoo —

but it doesnt

have to. a word

doesnt have to sound

like a word in order

to be a word just

as an emotion

doesnt have

to sound

like

an

emotion

to be

an emotion.

//

word or

feeling —

i feel happy.

i feel happy.

i feel safe.

i feel seen.

i feel.

i dont just

see.

i dont just

watch life dragging

past me.

///

i found myself,

and i allowed

myself to be

found. i did

that. i was strong

enough to do that.

i can hang my

black dad

cap on the

hook of

that

bloody

accomplishment.

i can fucking do

that bc i

irrevocably

and irreversibly

earned it.

oorah.

uncle ed: “rowing isnt a sport. you sit down??”

my medication

is making me

gain weight

and break

out and

those

are

both

kindaa

shitty fkn

things. its p

hard to swallow

something thts

destroying

your

body but

helping your

brain. its kinda

hard to do that, u

know? its hard

to sacrifice

part of

your

health for

another part.

but mental health

is fucking essential, my

dudes. i mean, physical health

is absolutely important,

too, but sometimes

you gotta roll

w the mfin

punches.

sometimes

you just gotta

do what you can

to be alright.

and thats

just

life.

///

im packed to leave

pittsburgh, and

ready to

move

on.