|Original graphic created by Judith Parsons Art 2016|
The art was specifically created for this blog.
Living with addicted folks or people with bi-polar issues is an interesting place to be. I know half of you reading this are bi-polar and the other half of you reading this is trying to figure out how to live with your bi-polar friend. Or we are living with the zombie, the one walking around in a drunken fog. The zombie has one foot in the fog and one foot on the moon. The zombie never ready to own her reality.
To KNOW how to live with people like this is acquired over time. These half souls not living in this realm—living in their head. Interesting isn’t it? The thoughts, the scenes you have seen a million times and played out a ka-trillion times.
The screaming and hating of the situation.
Trying to figure out how to maneuver through the crazy moments. How to love through the messy parts.
Trying to love your way through the episodes of life.
We learn to walk quietly on egg shells. We shed our boisterous tough outer layer. And try like hell to grow a crab shell shield between the new moons.
We learn to walk slowly into a room, to listen to the conversation that is being said. One must gauge the atmosphere before walking in the room. One must be very aware and “KNOW” at all times.
This knowing is not a tense, stressful knowing. It is a knowing after years of dealing with a partner who flies off the handle at the blink of an eye. It is a knowing that comes with years and years of scars. The scars have covered the new born innocent epidermis. It is what protects you now.
To know. No. To know.
The question is always flying around your head. How can I escape?
Can I just make a break for it? Can I get in my car and drive as fast and as far away as I can.
You are tired of taking responsibility for this disturbed soul.
The truths you carry are mountains high. I got it. I can see from the eagle’s perspective, you carrying the heavy load of another. When might you place your burden down. Will there ever be a time?
I just want to hug you and stroke your back and tell you you are doing great. You really are. Keep up the good work. Keep loving when you are dying inside. Keep loving the zombie, even when it is yourself.
I know. No. I know.