Like Stone Rising

I have been staving off a valley in my mood cycle for a while now. That is, I’ve been trying to and have been cycling rather noticably in the past two weeks. I have felt the echoes of very familiar demons inside my head.

Earlier today, after I spent the day at the Bronx Zoo, my moods took a dip and I felt my head begin to spiral out of control. I feel like I’m drowning…like falling into black ooze, I later told Sara. It’s frustrating; I’m so still and quiet on the outside and I’m screaming on the inside. And then I’m screaming at myself, telling myself to talk so that other people around me—so that you—can understand me. …It’s hard to talk or to move. I feel like stone.

I see no way for me to do that moment justice by describing it. Frozen, I squeezed her hand when she passed by to check on me. She stayed with me for the next half hour telling me a story until I could speak again.

Thank you, love.

6 replies on “Like Stone Rising”

  1. Dear Meitar, This is a touching and inspiring entry. Remember to stay obsrvant, aware, and most of all that you are unconditionally loved. I am comforted by the presence of direct love in your life. I am very greatful. Love you, Aba

  2. You’ve described very well the inability to communicate that comes over some, including me during specific points in a mood cycle. Sometimes I want so badly to communicate, but I am bound in invisible gaugze, shutting my mouth, freezing my hands, removing my ability to reach out, to cry out. Unless you’ve been through it, it’s difficult to understand the fear, frustration and loneliness it engenders. I’m glad you’ve got such support around you to help.

  3. Dear Blondzila,
    While Mei’s description is poignant, your acknowledgement makes it even more, and clearer. I have my moments too, but they pale in the presence of the loss and inability to effectively reach out to him, to be a source of support. Sometimes I feel such dread when I try to reach out and realize that not only I wasn’t heard, but in fact added a monumental distance and depth to the gap between us. That is the other side of the this coin. But I will never stop trying. Thanks

  4. I’m learning that sometimes the hardest thing for those who love us, is to be patient until we can yet again speak and describe the landscape we see.
    I’ve said it before: Meitar’s a lucky man to have such care in his life.

  5. Mei~
    Things will get better! I am so glad you are with Sara and she was there for you when you needed her most. I am the child of a bi-polar mother, grandfather and uncle. I agree with blondzila it is difficult for those of us who love some one with bi-polar. Not so much because we are impatient but because we are seeing someone we love dearly suffer.

    Many blessings!

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