Comments/Correspondence to:

I've been real busy trying to find a job because it's time for me to start working again. I want to post an excerpt from an email I sent to a new Net-friend I met through this blog. He's been having a hard time lately coming back from a manic episode. I really feel for him right now because I know how hard that can be. And I'm sure that most of the other readers of this blog can relate, too. I'd like to ask you all to send your best energy as far out across the globe as you can manage so that it can reach my friend. I know it will get there because it will be guided to the right place. I appreciate your time. This is for you, and you know who you are.

"I wish I could be there to help you through the hard times. I remember them too, too well myself. If this is your second episode, I'm sure that Mr Reason is telling you that this crappy time will pass. But if I know you at all, I know that Mr Logic is telling you that it's never going to happen. But you know, sometimes he's a liar... thanks, Violent Femmes. It will pass. Make room on the road to let it pass, otherwise it will have trouble getting by. The down times (I call it The Shit) is like a huge tractor-trailer on a very narrow road. This truck is full of Shit, it feels like Shit, it even smells and tastes like Shit in the air around it. But, contrary to common speculation, our job in a time like this is not to try and speed away in front of the truck. We've done all the speeding we need to for a while. Our motors are fairly well burnt-up and overdrawn. We're not capable of speeding away in front of the truck right now. That's OK. Tell yourself that right now, alright? Do it. I'm waiting.

"Now. Our job in a time like this is to slow down. Heck, it's all we can do anyway. Slow down and take a good look around. Forget about that truck. Move to the side of the road and let it pass on by, taking all of it's Shit with it. Heck, why not get out of your car and walk about a bit? You've got plenty of time. Look down. See that? There's something moving on the ground. Right there! See it? It looks like an ant with a load on its back. I wonder where it's going. Who knows, right? I guess the ant knows. It's not thinking about where it's going, though. How can it possibly know? I mean, look at it traipsing around there...first this way and now that way. It's a wonder the queen of his mound ever gets a bite to eat with all the meandering he's doing. Why isn't he in line with all of those ants over there? I mean, there's hundreds of them! Don't his little ant ears hear all the racket they're making? Why doesn't he just go back over there? It's obviously the way to the mound and the queen. Well, there's the mound over there - about 10 feet away. I wonder how far that is in ant-miles? I wonder how heavy his load is in ant-pounds? Geez, he's doing alot of extra work to get his load delivered. All he knows is that his load is heavy and it has a destination. He knows that the load will get there. He knows that he will find his way back. He always did before, so it's no different this time. He knows that he will get his job done, though he's having a hard time right now finding his way.

"I feel better knowing that the ant will get there. So now, stand back up and look around again. It seems like the air is fresher now. There's no traffic on the road. That's good. Now you can get back into your car and keep going, with the windows down, even. That truckful of Shit is on its way to Who-cares-where and it's way out of sight. Get back on the road and continue where you're going. I know that you'll get there. I know that you'll find your way back. You always did before, so it's no different this time. I know that you will get your job done, though you're having a hard time right now finding the way. I know you will, it's in you're nature and you're too stubborn to quit trying. Right? I thought so.

"I want to tell you how your email made me feel. It made me feel like I had finally started to do something that meant something. I'm 34 and work in a hospital and, even though I feel good when I do my job, I've never felt like I did when I got your post. I'm glad that you found the blog. I had envisioned it as a lighthouse on the cold, dark sea of manic-depression. I wanted it to be a beacon for we bipolars, signaling a safe harbor that we can call our own. The bipolar sea is ours only, and our boats are sturdy because of their apparent frailty. When you posted me, I felt like another boat was signaling back that it was there, under power, and on its way in to port. It was good to know that I had connected, that the light was serving its purpose. Thank you."

Thanks for reading, and thanks so much for the emails. Like I said, please specify "blog," "bipolar," "Butterflies and Bruises," or something like that in the subject line so I'll recognize it from spam. I appreciate your time. Namaste.

To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.


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