Real

I dedicated the last few posts to people living with mental illness who managed to engage with the world and produce art. I don’t know of any data, but from my going through biographies, people living with a disability don’t seem to be underrepresented among people who made it in creative endeavours. So why are they underrepresented everywhere else? Rhetorical question, of course. I do think we should fight for our place in the grand scheme of things. I will probably continue this series, but now I intend to disrupt it.

I am thinking a lot about my situation lately. I can’t move because of the pandemic; I am stuck in my flat in the province. I got another severe diagnosis. But, I am constructive most of the time, I am learning new things and making sketches for my book to be. Prospects are gloomy, and I don’t have much to hope for, but I’ve been there already. Haven’t we all? Sometimes battles that can’t possibly be won are the battles that decide the history, like the battle of Thermopylae where Leonidas stopped the Persian power with a few good men. The analogy has to stop at some point, but knowing that battles you can’t win can be decisive is what keeps us hopeful, humble and real.

Perfectly healthy people can’t win against ageing and death because nobody can. It is a truism. Some try desperately to make it seem like they are slowing the process down, but there is no warrantee at all, for anything in life. Deception works on the minds of living beings, but it doesn’t work on the laws of nature. She is cruel to her children sometimes, but the least bit harsh if we align with her and listen to her beats that are present in every landscape.

That is why I feel good in this black hole of mine despite everything. I know I am using well the time I have at my hand. I am not giving up on the gift of life or seeing it as an adventure. In this pandemic, I can watch tea ceremony from Nara or attend language courses or study things in the realm of my academic interests with much more knowledgable people on all sorts of online platforms.

I don’t intend to apologize anymore for the things I couldn’t do because of my disability. Those days are over. I don’t see anyone apologizing for doing injustice to the community for their private interest which is often the case in my country and which is leaving disabled and healthy and however-they-want-to-identify people on the margins. I am not perfect, so I won’t say I did my best, but I did fight the battle I can’t win well so far.

So I am here, in this small provincial town writing about my current situation and hoping I am keeping it real, as I’d like to.

Photo by Kristopher Roller on Unsplash

It Has Been Three Months Today

Photo by Tammy Gann on Unsplash

I have been living with the unimaginable for the last three months. I understand that death and losing the ones we love, especially our parents, is something that we all will deal with or have in this life.

I lost my mom on December 15, 2019, at 9:45 am, the exact time I began writing this blog post. I have talked about losing my mom, especially since my recent depression over the last week was this looming date. There is no getting around this, and I have not dealt well with the loss of my mother. I am somewhere around bargaining and depression in the grieving process. I had a lot of anger in December and January, but I have finally gotten to the depression stage.

Grief is grief, and so many people today are dealing with the loss of someone they love all over the world. My grief is nothing special. When it comes to mental illness, there is so much that can go wrong when it comes to dealing with depression-related grief. Those of us in the mental illness community have to be more vigilant because our depression could last for years.

Again, I am not saying that mentally healthy people do not deal with depression. Someone like me who is Bipolar can spiral quickly into extreme levels of depression very quickly. It is like quicksand, but the depression, which I call mine my dark passenger, can overtake you to unreal levels of depression and suicidal thoughts.

My Mom Was a Beautiful Soul

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At some point, I will be able to talk more about my mom and the amazingly beautiful person that she will always be in my heart. The one thing that is worth mentioning in this post is that I would not be here today without her.

In 2010, when I almost lost my life, it was my mother who finally had enough and made me promise to stop the destructive path that I was on for three years. I owe her everything that I have today because she believed in me. There would be no James Edgar Skye or The Bipolar Writer without my mother’s faith that I would get my life back. She always looked out for her family and me before her own problems, and that is what made her soul beautiful. My mother will always be an amazing woman.

I would be dishonoring her faith and belief if I were to spiral out of control right now. It would be so easy to give up on school and my writing, but I would never do that to her legacy. My mother brought me back from the brink when everyone else in my life gave up on me. So, even on my worst days with depression or anxiety in the future. I will remember all she taught me.

One thing I will always cherish is that she got to see my book published and for me to become an author.

Today is a somber day, but I am going to write and edit a story. Play some video games and relax since there are no sports at the moment. With that said, stay strong in the fight.

Always Keep Fighting (AKF)

James

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Photo by Aliyah Jamous on Unsplash