Ways to Grow.

Isn't this part of the Reading Rainbow song? Okay, how can I grow?

• Listen to Josh and to my brother James...and to both having a conversation. I usually don't know what they are talking about.
• Learn about the disorders, especially autism and bipolar disorder, that affect my family. Read the books. Ask the professionals questions. Pass on the knowledge or books to other family members or friends. This will make the disorders lose some of their power because we'll (at least sometimes) be ready.
• Plow through a long, difficult book. Don't worry about all the vocabulary and allusions; just read it. I'll become and feel like a stronger reader.
• Figure out how to get more intimacy in my marriage. We're so busy with work and medical issues, but without intimacy, our partnership will weaken, and everything will suffer for it.
• Vary the kinds of books I read--poetry, essays, short stories, novels, memoirs, and other non-fiction. But at least every other book should be for simple enjoyment--though I know that will help me grow as a reader too.
• Give myself challenging writing prompts. It's a good stretch.
• Be brave and open up about myself, maybe finding more allies on the way.

Invest.

"Be willing to invest in yourself financially, emotionally, and spiritually." --Elizabeth Berg

I think invest was my word of the year last year or the year before. Investment expects a return but not necessarily a quick one. Scribbling I do now could become part of a memoir five years from now.

Investing financially probably means acquiring the tools and space for one's art or one's wellness. Luckily, I can write almost anywhere. Some people need a studio. I have pens, paper, and a laptop. I might invest in stamps to send off submissions, most of which will come back to me. Sometimes, I invest in something that will make writing more attractive, such as a beautiful journal.

But we also invest in our health. I have hospital bills and so many therapy and medication copays. The cost is massive, but I have to invest in my stability, even when nothing seems to be working.

Emotionally, I'm sometimes not even able to connect to characters in a book. How can I invest in myself emotionally? And how is spiritual investment different? Investing in theatre tickets is both financial and spiritual. Emotionally, I need to invest in compassion for myself--allow myself to feel. Therapy is an emotional investment too--one that does not give instant results.

Spiritually, I pray, and I use affirmations to keep me from hitting the floor or floating away.

What Is Grace?

Grace is undeserved forgiveness or credit. In AP English during my senior year of high school, I was extremely distracted. I turned in a paper and got it back with a low but passing grade and the word Grace (written with the sparkly pens she always used for grading--I had to admire that). I always think of that when I hear or see the word. Many time, I wanted to write that on my own students' work.

But grace is also a quality people have--a way of moving and interacting. Cinderella descending the staircase at the ball and then remaining calm when the prince arrived. One of the best compliments I've received was "Were you a ballerina?"

I like the sound of the word. It would be a lovely name though a constant reminder could be maddening for an awkward girl.

I guess we can also bestow grace on people...the small or medium annoyance or mistake that I choose not to mention. The hurtful comment that I just let go. Thinking about this makes me want to find a rubber stamp with grace in beautiful script and then go around stamping things.

Even in the most painful situations or ongoing realities, grace is present. I've seen it with my son. The grace that glows around him isn't just for him--it's for us as we remember how blessed we are to have him. And we know that every challenge can make us better parents for him.

Avoiding a Life of "Quiet Desperation."

This was Thoreau, yes? Do most people really live that way? Do I?

I'm not especially quiet. I probably tell nearly everything to Mom, Josh, and Bruce--at least, I tell one of them. I scribble, which is private but still powerful. I have two blogs, and most of what I need to say fits into one or the other. Sometimes, I'm too good at hiding how I feel. Now that I'm not working, though, I don't try so hard to hide. I'm also not always as good at acting as I think.

Desperation. Sometimes I'm desperately tired, as if I can't do another thing. I can be desperate for affection, sometimes suddenly. Maybe people would be different if they got more hugs. I can add more hugs. Simple, but maybe effective.

Affection, words, and rest. If I have too little, I falter. I need hugs and hand holding and such. I need books stacked around me (my internal structure seems to start decomposing rapidly if I'm not reading--some book, any book). And I need to rest. Sometimes I need an actual nap. Josh and I think it helps my brain heal itself. Sometimes, I need a social break. Being social drains me, so I need dark and quiet and stillness to recover.

These three categories are non-negotiable. I can't let go of them. Josh sometimes demands that I go nap. I've been requesting more hugs from him. Asking is often the most difficult part. I need to learn what I need and how to get it or ask for it. Often, the offer is better than I'd hoped. I have people who are willing to help me get better and stay stable. I need to be brave about asking.

All I Want Is.

• A psychiatrist who is always available and helpful.
• A bathtub full of Gelly Rolls.
• A 10-year anniversary date with Josh.
• For my brother to be safe and happy.
• Better reading stamina.
• To meet my first babies in heaven.
• A sticker store within walking distance.
• To sticker and stamp shop with Nanna again.
• More general energy and motivation.
• A better relationship with God.
• To lose 30 pounds.
• To watch more movies.
• To have writing dates at Coffee Scene.
• To have clear skin.
• To stay home without problems.
• To help Oliver effectively, whatever his struggles may be.
• Healthy hair.
• To go help my younger selves somewhere.
• An easier time with hygiene.
• Getting my self-worth some way apart from a job.
• A representative to set up all the appointments and do all the paper work.
• For  Prozac to work.
• Love I can feel.

Metaphorical Muscles I Should Tone.

Hmm. I guess I need to tone my heart. I need to feel and show my love more. I think I'm still holding back with everyone to varying degrees. I can work on it with small gestures, thinking about what the other person needs to hear or experience. I need to heal and get fit again in my heart. If I can't connect enough to the people closest to me, how can I connect with fictional characters in my reading or, more importantly, in my work?

I need to tone up my right arm--my writing arm. I don't have much of a callous on my middle finger, which suggests that I haven't been writing enough. I write down prompts and interesting phrases--ideas I can return to when I feel up to it. But I need to get stronger. I should be writing more...becoming more literary in every way while staying faithful to myself.

I need to tone my ten fingers. I do personal and practice writing by hand. But a keyboard means product focus--working toward a piece...story, poem, novel pages, blog posts. I haven't been writing for product at all. I need to get back there. Will I have to wake up super early for that kind of workout?

I need to strength my mind. That may mean beating my head against an uninteresting, difficult, 600-page book. The attempt will sharpen my mind. But insightful, inspirational, and magical books are good for hope and recovery.

Unrestrained Delight.

This phrase is from something by Janis Owens. Wow. This is not something I experience often.

When I was going through a manic obsession with swimming, I seemed to fall in love with water. I sometimes swam twice a day. I loved colls showers, and I put water on my wrists and arms when I was overwhelmed. When I couldn't sleep, Josh was drag a wet washcloth over my back. It was a frenzy. Of course, lithium was also making me insanely thirsty. So water was magical all around. I needed to be in it, and I needed to fill myself with it.

I've had other manic delights, such as buying work clothes. I hunted for absurd deals online. I waited for the packages. The guilt was not enough to fight the delight.

But unrestrained delight doesn't come only from illness. I often feel great delight as a show begins--the house lights go down, the orchestra tunes up. Usually, I have no idea what I'm getting into. But often, the delight continues through the show. I used to have unrestrained delight just over showtunes and programs full of bright photos.

I feel unrestrained delight some time in a bookstore, paper-rich gift shops, unexpected favorites like fairies and Disney princesses--so much to see and ponder.

I usually feel joy when I start a new journal or new book. So much possibility is there. I feel that delight when I open a gift--who chose this? Why? What wonder can I do with this and the love in it?

The Life I've Made.

I have made a life in which books are valuable. Oliver sees Josh and I reading every day. Josh and I respect each other's need to read, and we encourage each other though our tastes are different.

Writing is also valuable. If one of us needs to write something, everything else is immediately on hold. I have journals and notepads everywhere. Pens are plentiful and easy to find. Having the tools at hand is useful and inspiring.

I've made theatre a big part of my life through season tickets, single tickets and showtunes. I know I expand when I'm in the audience, taking in all that sound and color. And Bruce and I bond over each show.

I've made a life in which two gentle, kind men give me a great deal of love and attention. I know they will watch over me. I hope that I enrich their lives in return.

I've made a life in which fantasy--fairies, mermaids, fairy tales--has an important place. My illustrated books, our movies, and our decor all show that. They are like a map back to myself. Josh has always supported that.

I've also made a life in which it's okay to be sick--at least, I've encouraged that in small ways through books I've read and conversations I have. I always tell someone what is going on with me. All those close to me have accepted my illness.

As much as seems possible right now, I've made a quiet, safe, rich environment and life. I'll think about what else I can do. 

WRAP: Wellness Recovery Action Plan.

A group Mary Ellen Copeland led created this plan. It reminds me that I should work on the Bipolar II workbook. I'm sure it will help even if I have Bipolar I.

I like that it's an action plan--not something philosophical. I wonder if a template exists.

I'll start with what I think Wellness and Recovery mean for me.

Wellness

1. 8 hours of sleep with little interruption
2. Normal weight (not over)
3. Three normal meals 
4. Regular exercise that gets easier as I get fitter.
5. Dental work
6. Regular quality time with Josh
7. Regular therapy

Recovery

1. Little heavy resistance
2. Knowledge about my disease
3. Feeling more able to tell my story
4. Better ability to manage or debunk stress
5. Pliable sadness--not the anvil of depression
6. Ability to engage in my favorite activities and enjoy them. 

So how do I get there?

• Resume abs and other exercises
• Walk more. Walk to Bruce's for walks and movies
• Complete bipolar workbook
• Read another book on BSD
• Schedule time for Josh and me
• Push myself to read or write even if it's just a little
• Soothe stress with music
• Schedule appointments well ahead

Love and Fear.

"There are only two emotions, love and fear." John Green

I think these are probably the two basic emotions, the base on which other emotional experiences build. I probably wouldn't agree were it not for a therapist I saw years ago. I was talking about someone's anger; she said, "Anger comes from hurt. Hurt comes from fear." I've thought about her words often since then. When I feel angry, I ask myself--how am I hurt? How can I address that hurt, and will that change my anger? Then I ask--am I hurt because I'm afraid? What raw fear did this touch? How can I address this fear directly?

Unless I figure out the fear, the anger or hurt can hold me too tightly. I think my main, basic fears are

• self-contamination (substances, toxic relationships...)
• self-haram (that I may get too sick to know that it won't help)
• rejection, especially from my parents
• not being able to find my family (apocalyptic movies are too scary for me because of this)
• people's  not believing me over something vital
• actually plunging into madness

Do other emotional experiences sprout from love? I can't dig into it the same way. I can see how admiration, need, desire, and hope spring from love. I guess the mission is to fight fear and its offspring and to recognize and nurture the love. That makes life seem simpler than it is. Or maybe life is simple--just not easy. I look at a situation and say, "Okay. Am I going to address this with fear or love?"

She Designed a Life She Loved.

I saw this on a piece of wooden wall art at Francesca's.

I don't think I've done a lot of this. Mostly, we've reacted to what has happened, so we get a degree, move, change jobs.

We've lived in our current apartment for almost 4 years. Our second longest stay was about 1 1/2 years in a cute duplex. For some reason, I smell cinnamon when I think of that place. Cinnamon and hot carpet. Choosing where to live is a huge part of designing a life. It affects every detail, day and night.

Job is another massive design element, one that relates to finding a home. Not working is sometimes an option. I think this is something I will love, especially if it eventually gives me some alone time to keep up with the house and uphold my creative practices.

Simple, reading (and, for me, writing) has a massive impact on the depth and courage and beauty of daily life. Days are often flat without a book.

Stability, for me, will probably include scheduling. Josh and I use our synced Google calendars every day. I need to see what it coming, when I'll need the car, when something will interfere with my routines. It helps me know and feel where I am.

Relaxation, Comfort, Leisure, Self-Expression

I read somewhere that these were essential for people with bipolar disorder. Of course, they're also important in some form for anyone.

These seem similar, but I guess they aren't really. I like taking a good look at similar words to see their subtle differences.


People with bipolar disorder probably need Relaxation to calm anxiety and to make sleep easier. Relaxation may quiet racing thoughts and pressured speech. But it's hard to get motivated to relax. It might have to be a scheduled activity, something that one does regardless of mood state. Closing one's eyes in sunshine. Lying down and praying. Meditating or doing yoga. Allowing someone else to do a pressing task. 

Comfort is a path to healing, and it can make mood states more bearable. A warm aromatherapy bath . Cool water on one's wrists and arms. Soup with a big spoon. Snuggling into a corner with a generous blanket. Rereading old letters or special E-mails. 

Leisure is a break from work. Since many people with bipolar disorder have trouble with executive functioning, work and house and family management may be especially exhausting and depleting. Leisure is a chance to connect to onself and one's interests. Depression kills connection and passion. But a stretch of time may awaken a person, whether he or she is ill or stable. When we have time to do whatever we want, we get to see what matters. 

Self-Expression makes good use of maddening energy. The bipolar mind is wild--both dangerous and fascinating. It needs at outlet--probably more than one. A person with bipolar disorder needs at least one patient listener who will hear racing thoughts yet also be comfortable in silence.

Ways to Invest in the Soul.

This can include prayer, religious reading and study, or organized worship. Even reading an unfamiliar sacred text can be edifying or soul-lifting.

Music is a great way to invest. Listen to what you love, but also try something new. See what music carries your soul around like a baby, what music makes you determined to be a better person, and what music makes you grieve or long for another person--a friend of some kind.

Theatre can be music plus the visual. I feel fulfilled, excited, and positively overwhelmed in a huge theatre during a show.

Reading in general is another way to invest. Though it's also an escape, reading can sharpen the mind, add color to the imagination, and provide company when one is or feels alone.

Sometimes, the perfect movie for the circumstances is right on your shelf. The beauty of a movie can stay with me  and enrich me.

Arts and crafts are also brilliant ways to invest. I don't do much of this, but my mother does, and I can tell it helps her.

How do you invest in your soul?

What Opens Me to the World.

Books do. I go to another world, but it sometimes makes my old world seem...better than it was somehow. But a book will often fill me with questions and ideas, and typically, I can't find someone with whom to share those questions and ideas. That's another way of opening to the world--talking when it's risky.

Shows do it. I think about the lives of these touring actors. I speculate about someone other than myself. And shows me give me new ideas about the world and new ways to interact with it. If people can be so talented...what's their story? What do they do every day to improve? How does this affect the rest of the family? These talented people are gifts.

Music does this because I can pack an experience or problem into a song, and it's contained, though precariously. Music is so eclectic, so I can always find something I need. The memories or problems stay in the song until I'm ready for them.

More Six-Word Memoirs.

My main six-word memoir is "Said I wouldn't. Glad I did." But I like trying to think of new ones. Here are a few. Work on yours!

• I have got to keep writing.
• Sacks and stacks of waiting books.
• Every pen is out of ink.
• Love: closer than I thought.

What Do I Avoid? Does It Deform Me?

These are questions from Natalie Goldberg.

I used to avoid showtunes because I didn't want overwhelming feelings. I do think I missed it. Now, I listen to showtunes every day. I think they are good for me and for my family. Avoid them meant depriving myself of something essential. I missed out on that joy. But now theatre and showtunes are priorities for me.

I avoid laundry. So it gets bigger and more overwhelming. No time seems right for it. It causes stress and clutter. Today, I asked Josh for two hours when he gets home, so I can hit the laundry hard.

What else? I avoid some books I want to read. Usually, this is because the books seem intimidating. But I need to give my brain a workout sometimes. And I don't have to understand everything.

I have avoided watching movies alone. I deprived me of movies that didn't interest Josh. But recently, I watched a movie every evening for a week! It felt great. Now, I know I can just go on Amazon  and watch something if it grabs my attention. I don't have to rely on someone else.

Essential Conflicts I Live With.

Sleep versus everything else. Sleep overtakes me when I want to (or should) read, do dishes, pay attention to Josh. Sleep seems so important. Josh says  it's how my brain tries to heal itself. I've thought that before.

Scribbling versus product writing. I know I ought to spend some time writing poems, stories, books (!), but often, I just want to scribble in my journal and maybe write a blog post.

Housework versus everything else. I'd much rather read, scribble...even fall asleep in a chair.

Active love versus complacency. I forget that all my relationships (especially my marriage) always need work.

Nurturing a friendship versus avoiding people. I'm amazed at how I have helped to build such a friendship. I had to deal with internal opposition all the time. I was unsure of my ability to keep up with a friendship. And I didn't think anyone could handle knowing all my stories.

Great Truths of My Life.

I am a writer. That may not mean that I publish often or that I write for other people, even friends and family. But I'm always writing. A writer is someone who writes and takes the practice seriously.

Water is vital. My medication makes me extremely thirsty, so in the last two years, I've learned to appreciate water in a whole new way.

My basic Christian beliefs are intact. It's one of the simplest parts of me.

I believe that reading is essential to my health--mentally, emotionally, spiritually. A good book nestles up to my soul. If I stop reading, parts of me begin to rot.

I believe that Josh and I are supposed to be together. We approach each other with general affection, interest, and forgiveness.

Things I Learned to Love.

This reminds me of my six-word memoir: Said I wouldn't; glad I did.

• Nail polish
• Tons of water
• Teaching
• Listening to students' personal problems
• Having a best friend again
• Swimming
• Exchanging house visits
• Therapy (love may be a bit strong)
• Heavy text messaging
• Fayetteville, NC
• Contemporary poetry
• Reading several books at once
• Coke
• Talking on the phone in certain cases
• Cold shower
• Not working
• Step parents
• Merchandising
• Boiled peanuts
• Motherhood
• A red shirt
• Hard rain

Learn How to Be Free.

These lyrics from Pippin made me think about myself and what that freedom means. For me, it would be free of dread. How can I move toward that?

I need to rethink the job situation. I was able to leave my job because my husband has a good job. I'm blessed. Work generated a great deal of dread in me as I got increasingly ill. My son was also diagnosed with autism, so my being home for appointments and such makes sense.

But I notice that dread can creep up anywhere. If I haven't kept up with laundry or dishes, I become stressed and want to avoid the task even more. Pushing through tasks as early as possible may help.

Reading makes me feel free. I need to take advantage of that and also try new genres or unusual books.

Scribbling and writing stories or poems lifts weight from me every time.

Encouragement.

"Take encouragement from whatever is around you."   Natalie Goldberg

How does one do this? Inspiration makes sense, but how does everything around me potentially offer encouragement?

I try to make my home inspirational and expressive. My desk reminds me that I want to write, that I can be the real deal, and that Mom, Shane, and Josh (who bought me the desk) believe in me as a writer.

Fairy prints remind me that I can shape the kind of life I want, rich with magic and whimsy as well as hard work.

My collections of pens and notebooks encourage me to scribble.

Seeing books anywhere makes me want to read, so I'm glad they're all over my house.

A photo of me holding a small Oliver encourages me because I'm glittered (lavender crystal bead headband, sequined tank, and chandelier earrings) and so clearly happy. Looking at the photo reminds me that I can feel that way again.

Attachment to Suffering.

This phrase is from Natalie Goldberg's True Secret of Writing I wasn't sure what to think of it, but it must have caught my attention in some way because I wrote it down.

"Attachment to suffering." Suffering seems attached to me. All that's happened. I'm disabled with a son who is disabled. I have awful memories. I have dreams or flashbacks sometimes.

I do see how suffering (even, say, endometriosis pain) can become part of one's identity--even most of one's identity. That can easily happen to me with bipolar disorder. The struggles are part of me, but I can't let them become me.

If I could somehow "unattach," what would happen? What would I have to do? What would I grab onto instead? Contentment, quiet, learning, my family (as whole individuals), friendship, love?

More about Resistance.

I even feel resistant to writing this, and writing is one of my top reasons for living.

I started keeping a consistent journal when I was 15. Before that, I kept resisting the idea, sure I couldn't keep up. Nobody else seemed to stay with it. But I began to discover people like May Sarton and Anais Nin who did stay with it. I decided, "I can do this. Why not? I'm a writer." And though I've had gaps (usually at the toughest points of my life--when I needed the practice most of all), I'm on volume 156.

I sometimes resist reading. I can't imagine why. Sometimes a book is too dense, and I back away. But now, if a book is difficult, I try to read an easier, lighter book at the same time. Going back and forth can be confusing but interesting.

I resisted friendship for years, especially once I was an adult. But I've been slowly learning that adult friendship is possible if people are gentle and open.

Resisting the healthy and joyful parts of my life will not help me get better.

Cutting Resistance.

"Practice cuts through resistance" --Natalie Goldberg

Why are people (including me) so resistant, especially to changes, tasks, or activities that would be so beneficial to health or happiness? A few months ago, I usually woke very early. I used that time to wash dishes and listen to showtunes. But I could also have sat up in bed to write--everything I could remember from the day before, everything I hope the coming day would bring.

I tend to fill empty time (waiting rooms and such) by staring at nothing. Why Not Write? That's a great reminder question. I could put it on a sticky note on my journal, bathroom mirror, bag, front door (so I'll remember to take what I need from home).

The more I practice writing and make it as enjoyable as possible, the less I will resist it. All of this could apply to reading as well.

Bare Minimum Self-Care

I shouldn't have to push myself to write or read. They should just be part of me that I can encourage simply. And when I don't read and write, I feel myself getting sicker.

I get ready every weekday morning before Josh leaves for work. For a while, getting ready was intensely difficult, almost painful. But I looked nearby for a cure. I started playing showtunes as I get ready. The struggle is almost gone. Plus, Josh and Oliver get good showtune exposure!

I need to get better about going to bed when I'm tired, even if it's early. I don't think sleeping in a chair is sufficient.

Sunshine is a bare minimum requirement as is some kind of activity. I go on walks, but I need some strength training too.

Physical touch should not be a luxury. How can I be more huggable? I've read that hugs can be vital to (any)one's health.

Writing under All Circumstances.

That's from Natalie Goldberg. She's brilliant, so I listen.

I didn't write when I was going through a major crisis or when our apartment building was on fire, and we had to live in a hotel for a week.

But I need to write, somehow, any time, all the time.

• airports and airplanes
• car trips if I don't get car sick
• waiting in the car
• doctors' offices
• manic--let the thoughts race to paper
• depressed--pinpoint triggers and soothers.

 I need to have my journal with me all the time as I used to do. My main purse is big enough for it. But simply stepping outside can do a lot too.

• on the balcony in candle light
• at a picnic table in the afternoon
• by the pool 

This is why I tell myself to write through it, whatever is happening. Even if I'm dashing down an angry sentence or thrilling over some new, silly joy.

I Wish I Had Money for Candles.

• Candles--vanilla, peppermint, cinnamon. My favorite is peppermint marshmallow. We'd burn the candles at night, keeping the sliding door open a little. Our apartment would smell like those candles. We might even get some that crackle like fires.
• Going to Paris with Mom. We'd have such fun. We could find little shops, be lazy in gardens, take our time in or totally skip an art gallery. She'd have enough of a clue in restaurants too.
• Season theatre tickets, always.
• Professional massages that wouldn't stress or break me out.
• All the expensive medications that might help me.
• All the insurance and copays.
• Better subtle workout clothes.
• More frequent therapy, maybe alternating counselors.
• Some filling dessert, like a whole plain cheesecake, that would stay good for a week for all of us.
• Several movies Bruce should see and I should see again.
• Each book I want to read, so I can somehow surround myself with them like little guards.

Reasons to Love Housework.

Ha! I have been surprised to find that I do enjoy some of the housework...sometimes.

• Awareness of my home. Since I try to clean up (wrappers, socks) as I move through the house, I become more aware of how it looks, of decor, and of idiosyncratic messes.
• Discovering buried treasure. Since I'm trying to clean out and clean up, I find objects I'd forgotten or thought lost. Fancy pens and art supplies are some of the best.
• Creating a better space for the boys. With less clutter, Josh sometimes seems more relaxed. I feel more like I'm taking care of them.
• Reducing chaos. This is one of my overall goals. Housework can feel symbolic of brain and mind work. Clear a room; clear a chamber in the mind. In the past, I usually didn't notice mess until I was under a lot of stress--then, it was suddenly unbearable. I can start to protect myself from that.

I'll never be a very good housewife, but I'll try to have a better attitude about cleaning up!

When I Have Not Been Afraid.

I wasn't very afraid about the plays I was in at 10 and 11. I wasn't afraid of Irish Step Dancing. I wasn't afraid really afraid of teaching my first college courses. I tend to think that things that don't scare me are healthy for me.

But so much of the time, I have been afraid. I didn't realize how much. That deep drudge of dread...interactions, tasks, others' standards, my own standards, anything that might give me a sort of waking nightmares, make me scared to shower, or keep me from entering rooms or from sleeping at night. Will I ever be less afraid (talking on the phone, making appointments...)?

I wasn't very afraid of childbirth before or even during. But after...yes, I was afraid in so many ways.

I've usually been less afraid when interacting directly with students. We all know our roles. I wasn't afraid to visit Bruce's house. I felt comfortable and safe there, which was quite unusual for me. I want to feel that way more often.

Accepting My Mind.

This is complex for me. My mind has changed, and my understanding of it has changed. I don't trust my mind as I used to. Thinking in general seems more difficult, and analyzing is really tough.

But this is the mind I've got. I have to work with it all my life. I can try to practice, stretch my mind. Reading helps, and it gets easier when I'm in the habit.

I haven't lost my intellect. As with other skills, that may be harder to find or to recognize. My journey so far has humbled me, which isn't necessarily bad. I have to change my perception of my mind just as I am working to change my perception of my body.

I want to make my mind a brilliant, beautiful place. How can I get there? I guess I need to be careful of what I put in my mind. It's almost like a separate entity--a child sibling I'm caring for.