Every year with a mental illness has its trials and tribulations, but 2012, was an exceptionally difficult one. I struggled constantly to keep my head above water, and I was treading the entire time without answers. This entire year I have not been able to sit in front of a keyboard, nor pick up a paint brush. Any instrument of creative potential has been dead when placed in my hands. As though my entire being was simply flesh and bones, and the human gift of thought and imagination was plucked from my body. It has left me as a shell- able to carry out the daily druggeries associated with being a housekeeper and child rearer, but without meaning beyond knowing that these are my responsibilities.
In the years past I have held excrusiating pain. Pain that manifests between wanting to rip my chest open to release the pressure to feeling as though my throat is squeezing shut and my skull crushing and bleeding my brains throuhg my nose and ears. None of which can be observed by an outsider, so I have suffered alone and without understanding. And during these excruciating times, I turn to the only thing I know- reasoning and logic. They have guided me through these episodes, but last year my even mind began to fail me.
