Stagnant

It’s chemo week so I’m sharing some old journals from the others again, this wasn’t dated but I’m guessing it’s around 2 or 3 years old (?) – Kate

My body is tired but my mind is agitated and restless, a metallic taste invades my mouth akin to the one you get from taking too much Lithium and I catch myself subconsciously grinding my teeth again.

I feel like I’m withdrawing, but I haven’t taken meds in about a year now so they have long since flushed through my system. I hate these feelings, the ones that were once acceptable because they had a logical cause but now the symptoms remain and their reason has dissolved into a simple question of whether or not you are imagining them now or had simply imagined them all in the first place.

Bipolar is a funny beast, when an episode rears its ugly head it is an all consuming overlord taking control of every aspect of your thought yet when it lies dormant its memory fades to grey and its very existence becomes questionable when you are finally able to rise above its consequencial fallout.

Somehow I think I’d convinced enough of myself that I was past this point in my life, past the point of allowing my emotions to rule, that I started to naively believe it and yet now it seems like I never left it behind at all. I was treading water in a stagnant pond.

Emotional memories are strange, people bang on about living ‘in the moment’ yet it seems as though the present is the only time I ever really have feelings. I guess it technically is. The emotions of the past are encompassed by those presently experienced in the current reality and the future is impossible to imagine out of the context in which is already understood.

Emotions are not logical, they cannot live beyond the now. Neural pathways from imagination to emotion must be slowly carved but those from existing emotions to memories are a worn and beaten track; it always feels faster going home.

Decades have passed in minutes and yet months and years seem to go by and the calendar says it was only weeks. Recollection of this time is simply lost or stolen.

I can’t relate feelings to any other time frame, when I am sad I feel I have been sad forever and yet when I read the journals we have written, they tell tales of euphoria and excitement and how it feels to know the secrets of the universe.

We the people are dictated by emotions, emotion doesn’t allow for long term species continuation because it is at its core, unreliable. For all the power in love, the power in power remains a far greater force to reckon with.

We create belief in false Gods in an effort to accumulate power over people, we then play God by altering our environment to align with our desire for wealth, wealth brings power, we use our misguided intelligence every single day in the quest for the ultimate power, the quest to become the very God we made up in the first place.

We know in our hearts what is right, yet still we yearn for power over people, power and delusions of grandeur over the perfection in which we were born. The perfection we couldn’t accept to be just that because we were unable to claim it as our own creation, unable to accept it as equally part of every single thing dwelling upon the planet; there is no power in equality.
The only thing that is certain is that once humanity destroys itself, Still the world will turn.

Catherine