“you’re still you”

“you’re still you”

by jen kiley

sometimes i don’t feel i will get to that place where i will be happy. tonight i’m in a bad place. listening to music. working on a poem. working on my manuscript. looking for some sort of release from the pain but it just feels like it’s getting worse the more i try to release it. it’s not just an emotional pain but a physical pain also. the words of the songs i’m listening to just echo my feelings and thoughts. they make me feel over the edge when emotions get so painful. i need my former therapist to work through this but she’s not here. it overshadows the rest of my life and the issues i need to work on. this is the other side of manic, a full blown state of deep in depth depression. the kind that makes me feel suicidal. i know i will not kill myself but baring this kind of pain feels like too much to endure. “i’m holding on but i’m barely holding on to you” “i’m falling apart, i’m barely breathing, with a broken heart, that’s still beating” i have such a weight on my chest. i’m holding on til morning. maybe a new day when it’s light out will give me a better perspective and i’ll go back to burying my feelings and i won’t miss her so much but then this feeling will always return when i least expect it and grab me by the throat and want me to die. bipolar is the bitch that controls me and all those people i love(d) that died on me or abandoned me they will continue to haunt me. the thing is i don’t want them to go away. i want them all to return. after death will we all be reunited? not now but in the future. her life goes on without me and i don’t feel like i would ever fit in when the time came when it would be alright. i don’t feel optimistic that it ever will be alright. all these brain disorders that i have. my history of abuse and the fact that i am not mad but feel as though i could slip into madness ever so easily. fighting the demons that possess me at times. they find their way to the page through my writings, my poems. is exposing them to the light the only way to have an exorcism? writing releases some of the pressure. it did feel like the valve was stuck and i was about to explode inside. tears filled my eyes earlier. i cried from missing her. why do we miss people when they are gone? i know i love her. i’m pretty sure i am in love with her. but i am not in a position to be able to tell her what i feel or what i am thinking. that is where the frustration lies. and even if i did tell her i am sure there is a strong possibility of pure unadulterated rejection. she is straight and i am a lesbian and there is nothing for us. there can be nothing for us. just some ravings from someone who has a touch of the divine madness of a manic depressive with other issues that become too involved to write about now.

you’re still you – josh groban