Reaching for a feeling, anything that will stir my spirit and point me in the direction I need to go. I feel lost, not sure of my footing, waiting for the next wave to assert itself. Splash against the rocks and declare that I can do this, while awakening a soul full of answers. But I don’t have all the answers, I am buried in questions.
What are you going to do for a living? This is highest on my priorities list right now, and I am taking care of myself because I know my mental state is shattered. Deep and underneath the frenetic activity is a heart that doesn’t believe. In myself, in my abilities, in my desires. It’s hard to proclaim yourself competent and capable in a job interview when you feel like this. My answers are short, abrupt and stilted. The interviewer is begging me to give more, but I can’t. It’s all the spoons I have to just be engaging with you. Oh, bipolar how I hate to love you so.
But I am a fighter, and I’m here for the long term, so I have time to let the answers come. They will, and I will listen in due time. I have to be patient. It takes months to find a new job, he tells me, confirming my need to relax a little and feel safe at the same time. God bless this man, he knows what to say to keep my demons at bay. What a treasure to have someone like that in my life.
I have my designated cheerleaders, who keep me moving forward and insisting that I find meaning in this life, that it is worth preserving. I cling to their words when my rambling rose doesn’t know how to climb the trellis. It’s beautiful but doesn’t know what’s next. “And that’s ok,” they whisper to me as the sun falls upon the walkway. I am becoming whole, and it is a process that is beautiful and rewarding. I just need to sit in the moment and let it take me away.
Moody Paper 
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