I know it has been a while. I have been on a small journey of self-discovery over the last few weeks. I have been up and down, even sideways at times. I felt depression and anxiety in full force. I was feeling lost in who is James and was, or how does The Bipolar Writer become more than just a place that I go when life is tough. I was not feeling the feels as my life coach would say. So, where did The Bipolar Writer go?
He was here all along, but he lived in two different worlds, the past and the future. The person that I have been since the death of my mom in December was someone different. I put everything into what I need to grow my business. To continue writing both for my business and above all the projects in fiction will allow people to know The Bipolar Writer. I lost my passion for writing and instead went to make a million plans all in the hopes of keeping me going and keeping me busy. I was still writing, and it was still good, but I was not me. That was key. It became my downfall in July. I felt so alone in the world, and I allowed myself to let old habits back into my life. I was not living in the present.
I never thought I would lose my mother the way that it happened—the suddenness and having to continue to finish graduate school and keep myself from allowing the feelings in. I was hiding my pain, and it was growing into the monster thing that was hidden away in my mind. It wanted to be let go. I have been reading Permission to Grieve by Shelby Forsythia and also listening to her podcast. Both of these resources, alongside my self-discovery with my life coach (I will write more on this in another post), I began to realize I life-rejection and self-abandonment were my constant. (This book from Forsythia is really amazing, and I won’t spoil it here.) I was far from living in the present.
I was living by a narrative that was not my own, and I abandoned everything that made who I was inside. I had not once in my grief–the loss of my mom, the lost years of my life that I am always making me try to make up, and the loss of two relationships that altered how I treat people. I closed myself off to the world. I fell into my writing and school to try to grasp onto anything that felt good. I was not feeling good, and I was not myself. I have not been myself. I stopped living in the present and began to live in the future and the past. It is a destructive way of living.
I had not once since my early 20 gave myself permission to grieve, as Forsythia would say. I lost parts of myself along the way, and I never thought to take a look back and pick those pieces back up. When I lost the one constant in my life that was always there to pick me up, my mom made me go way inside. I was so lost and let things like COVID-19 to not really live.
I was marking the months. Every 15th was a bad day. I had to let myself be depressed on that day–every month. I was still living, that is something that you do. You keep going and make all the plans because that is what society tells you to do. I was not really living. I need to grieve, but that means letting the person who I was before my loss—all of the loss over the last fifteen years. I have made decisions in my life moving forward.
I am connecting with a life coach who is teaching me to live in the present. It will be a four-month journey. I am using my love for reading to immerse myself in books on grief and living in the present. Reading is one of my loves, and I am taking away screen time (when I am not working on school, work, or writing) like when I am watching sports or streaming. If you know me, it is not easy. I am not giving up watching sports, but not spending my “downtime” streaming. I was for so long filling all my time with things, no matter what it is, just to do it. I was on my phone so much, and I was not living my life. I want to go back to my roots–books and stories. I love stories.
I want to be in the present, and I am working on self-care at the moment. Why am I writing this post? It is because it will help me find my voice again. I am learning to do things at the moment because you can’t know the future. The past will always be there, but I am no longer that person. I am ready for change. That means coming back here to where it all started—this blog. I want to feel the feels. I want to live again, AND I WILL.
Always Keep Fighting
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