One…two…three…four…five …six months later! Hello everyone!
A lot has really happened in my hiatus and as usual it has been a whirling rollercoaster of experience. Of course I’ve been riding the rollercoaster of Bipolar Disorder without a seatbelt on. Highs and lows of bipolarity and everything in between.
You see, in these six months, my favourite nephew began first grade. I’m excited. This little guy touched my life in the most unheard of ways. Some six years ago, one Thursday 6th September at 2pm, my beautiful sister put to bed a dainty baby boy with perfect caramel skin, beady eyes, rabbit ears and full head of hair. How happy I was to be the newest auntie, bonus mum and nurturer in town! (This was the first time any of my siblings had been blessed with a bundle). I have a soft spot for children and I’m obsessed with the naming norms. (I already know my future baby’s name yet there’s absolutely no bun in the oven yet!) So I nicknamed my nephew the tiger shark. Yes, after shark, the animal. Because I envisioned him growing up with the attributes of the shark. (The shark is symbolic of being a terror of the sea, it is fierce in everything it does. It does not compromise; it aggressively pursues what it wants.) I’m eternally grateful to my shark for teaching me that motherhood (or babysitting) basically needs you to be a multitasking jangler of different tasks at the same time. There were times I had to sing, dance, rock my hands, use the blow dryer just to get him to sleep or stop crying. I’m not even chest thumping but my nanny game is now out of this world, all credits to him. Looks like I’ll become a par excellent mama in future. Thank you dear Divine for this now all grown responsible little man full of life and immense energy.
In these six months, my beautiful, super smart, strong willed and perfect level of extra mother, turned 60 and became a senior citizen and we held a thanksgiving party for her. All hail mama, the lighthouse in my storm, our number one cheerleader, hype man and safety net in a chaotic world!
In these six months, my little sister turned 21. (Should I say I’m excited again or is it becoming cliché?) Considering that just yesterday I was teaching her to write. To think that now she’s all grown and kicking ass. I’ll never let her know the quarter life crisis. Cheers to the wonder woman, my little sister who’s not so little anymore!
In these six months, still on family, my other big sister became a fierce feminist. I mean why not? Because how does a patriarchal society become egalitarian without feminism?! Been a long time coming. Power to my budding powerhouse of a sister, my womyn, my lifeline, my hero, my heart!
In these six months, I noticed how much of a trooper my little brother is. I can’t believe he will be clearing high school soon. And after 7th October, the whole squad will be legal. Happy 18th birthday and congratulations in advance, sweet one!
In these six months, not more than a month ago, my little cousin came into this world. She’s a slice of heaven. Whoever said newborns look like grumpy old men was lying. She’s officially the youngest in the clan and she set a new standard. Buffaloes will be the new cool when she’s all grown and set for wedlock, she’s beyond cows. I said what I said. Lol.
In these six months, my eldest sister, is still the most charismatic.
In these six months, my dad is still my heart in human form.
In these six months my friends are still the realest.
In these six months, God is still God.
In these six months, the weather took a drastic turn! April came roaring like a lion. Cold like the heart of b*tch. I felt like the hailstones pelted right through the roof and into my soul. Cold weather catapults me to oblivion, shuts down my reflex and affects my productivity. Bright beautiful sunny days like today breathe life into my well being and whisper words of beauty to my aura. I love to welcome and sock up the sun rays because too soon the cold will graduate to thunderstorms and I will sulk.
In these six months, however, one thing was constant: circular insanity! Aka bipolar disorder, darkness my old friend, the pain in the brain. Actually the reason I didn’t blog was because my fingers lost coordination. Gross I know. But that was an unfortunate and severe side effect of one of the psychotropics I’m on. The other reason was because mental illness is uncultured. OG Bipolar just told me not to write. Squint your eyes, tilt your hear to the east, feel the zephyr that comes by, if you don’t, too bad…run a mile, text your bestie, sleep, eat… or just bite your nails but don’t blog. But it’s joke on you now, I know you’re a demon and I will slay you. You are uncultured, because you leave me to stay on my cool sometimes when someone’s dead but let me lose my cool when I can’t find my pen! You know it is definitely not because I’m more acquainted to the idea of death than the idea of losing a pen, but because mental illnesses or mood disorders, and especially you bipolar disorder, are a maze in itself, it is as though there’s a switch in my brain that flicks unrhythmically and unannounced. Circular insanity. Temporary insanity. I’m not sure if that’s an overstatement but I’m sure mental illness is still the largest elephant in the room. I nicknamed my mind “the minefield.” My mind is a minefield; an actual minefield of self actualization and lethargy. But today as I type this, I feel like I’m revamped and my energy is on steroids and I have reached a dangerously awesome level of might and will power. Woohoo!
In these six months, still, one thing was constant: the blogosphere. This is hands down the best place to be online! The beauty that is oracles and wordsmiths. The beauty that is penmanship. The beauty that is artistry. The beauty that is forever unmatched and undefeated. The beauty that is the write way. Forgive me if I’m going to get all sappy when I talk about how much blogging has impacted my life. I constantly find comfort and independence in a riveting read. You fellow bloggers (and the readership) inspire me to get outside my bubble, move beyond my insecurities, accept my disability all while offering compassion and sympathy for others. To love freely and unconditionally. To keep LIVING my dash. To build safety hedges to protect my sanity. To reset my mind, body and soul without a heads up. To LIVE. Thank you is an understatement!
In these six months, in the next six months and beyond, love, light and healing to everyone battling mental illness. Be steadfast. You are not a victim but a survivor setting the world on fire with your truth. Today and everyday, me and our fellow survivors need your light, warmth and raging courage. Here’s to grit, here’s to strength and resolve of character, here’s to resilient dynamism, here’s to the only pill popping throng of chronic illness survivors whose illnesses aren’t visible to the naked eye, here’s to the beauty of the strange!