It’s aliiiiive

I feel alive.

I feel empowered.

I feel like things are possible.

I feel like the life I lead is not easily captured in a five second introduction.

I went out today.

I listened to music, and poetry, and rapping, and, people being vulnerable, above all, a supportive community and I was swept up in the love, freedom, joy of it.

I danced.  DANCED.  For the first time in months.

I sang in my car on the way home.  For the first time in months.

I mingled, and the first words out of my mouth were not my diagnosis.

I felt, really felt, like there could be more to life than dullness and recovery and me sitting on a couch watching Netflix.

I needed this, as much as I need lamictal and sleep and oxygen.

Not to diminish Eric, but there has developed a sort of patient-caregiver dynamic between the two of us.  And, I know he means well, but I need to break free of that patient role.  To be, for a few hours, not remotely my illness, but a person, adrift in a sea of other people, anonymous and spontaneous.

To be a human with possibility and the ability to achieve her goals, and to have no one, not least herself, tell her no.


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