Power Supply

    Once again I woke well before my alarm was set to go off, with a feeling of eager anticipation. My brain was firing on all cylinders, churning up possibilities, pondering potential opportunities, looking ahead with the thrill of the unknown and unknowable. There are so many exciting avenues opening up before me, just awaiting the ultimate moment for me to strike. I see the world laid out before me, presenting itself, eager for my exploration, a willing participant. I know I could be expending mass amounts of energy fretting over the mundane aspects of life that do seem to be pressing in on me, but those issues will always be there in one form or another, so I choose to give them no more regard than relentless winter rains. There are just some things that must be endured, cannot be changed, and therefore should be allotted as little stress and strain as possible. Instead I want to channel my energies where they will do the most good, benefit me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I am tired of burning up energy that just leaks out into the ether, draining me with no discernible benefit. I have spent too much of the last few years allowing my energy to leak out into the cosmos, leaving me depleted, weary, devoid, wan, a pale husk of myself.
    Now, I am allowing my energy to be focused inward, to feed off of itself, build strength like a nuclear reactor, a near endless source of power. Power for me. Power for my endeavors. Power for those I love. Power for my future. Things have been set in motion, things that are building momentum of their own. Momentum that will generate its own energies, energy that I can feed off of or tap into. I feel as if my life has become a perpetual motion machine, life rolling ahead, slowly gathering a full head of steam until I will be rocketing along at a helter-skelter pace, me hanging on tight, wind whipping my hair, wide grin plastered to my face. It may be just another rollercoaster ride, though an epic one, I am sure. Or, this could be the ride of a lifetime. I am strapping on my helmet, zipping into my leathers, pulling on gloves. No simple ride this, no seat belts, no cushy seat. I have a feeling that this is a Bonneville Salt Flats, balls to the wall, hang on for dear life, blast through the gears, bomb down the track, record setting ride.

Not This Time

    My body and inner workings never cease to amaze me. I know that one reason I take such diligent care of the vessel that is Body is because that does help fend of some of the worst effects of Melancholy. I can feel Melancholy lurking about these last several days, nearly a week, actually. It is a clammy hand on my right shoulder, a soughing in my ear, a presence, lurking, waiting for my vigilance to waver so it can slip quickly inside. But I know it is there, and know it waits, ever ready, so my defenses must remain strong. Oh yes, they do slip a little, when fatigue or stress lift the corner of my defensive cloak and allow Melancholy an opportunity to caress bare skin with cold hand. Then, tears will threaten. Actually tears will spill, for a few uncontrollable moments, but then can be quickly brought under control before much notice can be made of them. I do find that I am most susceptible when I am tired, it is similar to having muscle fatigue, but it is emotional fatigue, and when an accident is most likely to occur.
    With Melancholy breathing down my neck, I am inspired to workout all the harder. It is as though I can outrun, outpace Melancholy, leave it in my dust. This is not so far fetched a notion. Endorphins released by hard physical activity are proven to be more effective than most prescription anti-depressants. I know this to be true. I have started workouts while crying uncontrollably, another reason I do not workout at a gym, and through arduous physical endeavor been able to regain a modicum of control over raging emotions. I am pleased to report that this particular scenario hasn't played out in my living room for over a month now. Lately, I have found myself pushing myself further and harder, yet remaining within the scope of pleasure rather than punishment. I know that some of my winter workouts border on self-flagellation, a form of physical punishment to take Brain away from dwelling on emotional distress. It is kind of like hitting yourself on the thumb with a hammer in order to ignore a persistent headache. Kind of the same, yet different. Especially since I have never actually hit myself with a hammer in order to ignore a headache.
    These days, the need to combat Melancholy has not been as necessary, but I know if I relax my guard I will find myself invaded. Melancholy presents itself as weak, ill supplied, poorly armed, and under manned. But I know that is a ruse to lure me out into the open, drop my defenses, slow my training, dull my preparedness. Melancholy is a trickster with all the guile of Loki. I know this and have fallen victim in the past. Not this time. Not this year. So when I feel the burning of tears pressing at the back of my eyelids, my lower lip threaten to tremble, my voice grow weak and hoarse, I will remind myself that Body is prepared for any onslaught. I will remain vigilant, strong, fierce, brave. I will keep Body at the ready, and this means a never slackening regiment. I am battle ready, especially when I know the enemy lurks so near. Melancholy will not be allowed to take hold. Not this time. I am ready.    

Country Mouse

    Once, many years ago, or as may be appropriate, "Once upon a time," my older brother referred to he and I as "The Country Mouse and The City Mouse." He being the City Mouse, and me, of course, being the Country Mouse. We came from a small town, and even lived on a small farm for a number of years, then moved into the "big city" when I was 16. My brother has lived most of his adult life in a major metropolitan area, including more than a decade in Los Angeles. On the other hand, I have lived the majority of my adult life in either farmland or forest. My dream job of Hermit In The Woods reflects my preference for country life. Now, my brother lives near Las Vegas, and has to escape to the mountains or desert on a regular basis to clear the stress of city life from his system. Me, I work in the city but get to flee to the seclusion and peace of my little house in the heart of farm country.
    In the tale of the two mice, the main focus is on the meals offered. The Country Mouse offers her cousin a simple meal, that the City Mouse scoffs at and invites the country cousin into the city to enjoy a sumptuous meal. Of course, once in the city the two mice are threatened by predators. The Country Mouse decides she would rather eat and live simply and in peace, than to be plagued by fears. "I would rather gnaw a bean, than be gnawed at by fear." Although I am not afraid of city life, or city dwellers, there is a shred of truth to this. I would rather live a simple, moderately impoverished life, and have peace within my sanctuary, than to live a fast paced, albeit potentially more lucrative life, in a place I cannot totally relax.
    I am not sure why I have been thinking of this little fable lately, but it has been pressing on my mind. Yes, I think my brother's words have clung to me, to be echoed over and over through the years. The words have been bubbling to the surface with regularity for the last year or so. I can understand why they tickled me last year, when I was beginning to have thoughts of buying a home, but now I have that home in the country. Maybe I am just thinking of my brother, who I haven't seen in more than 10 years. and haven't talked to for nearly a year. My brother and I were so close growing up that people often mistook us for twins. As we became young adults we continued to be close, sharing housing, forming a band, even working at the same eclectic deli. We were so often in each others company that a lot of people thought we were married. No, we were not THAT close, but it does explain why I never had much luck getting dates. I know I can call him and we will talk until our phones die, but he has such a busy life with 4 kids at home, and a job that stresses him, that I hesitate to call, knowing I am interrupting something. It is strange, to have been so close for over 20 years, and now to never see one another. It does make me sad, but I have no doubts that he loves me every bit as much as I love him, so I don't worry.
    But this Country Mouse knows that the City Mouse has more than a trace of envy for her quiet, simple life. And justifiably, my life is wonderful, and without the burdens of material trappings. I do love my life.

It Is The Ride, Not The Destination

    I had a series of very strange dreams last night. In each one I was in a vehicle crash. The first one, I laid down my motorcycle on a curve when I hit a patch of ice. I could even feel the pavement abrading me, and remember thinking, "at least the ice is cutting down on the friction." The bike came to a rest on a patch of ground thickly padded with Ponderosa Pine needles, and both he and I were relatively unscathed. In the next dream, I was driving and approaching my exit, next thing I knew I had accelerated over the edge and ended up nose down in the ditch, with no real memory of how or why. I thought maybe I had fallen asleep at the wheel, or had a seizure. The cop wanted to do a sobriety test. In the third and final dream, I was driving along, minding my own business, and plowed into a sudden snowbank and was buried.
    I am not sure what Brain was doing last night, but is my subconscious trying to tell me something? In each scenario I was unhurt, mostly. Is Brain telling me I am an accident waiting to happen? That my current course is bound to crash? That there is no way to know exactly what lay around the next curve? Or merely that there is no way to know what the future truly holds?
    I am pondering all of the above, prying into the corners of my mind, wondering what, if any significance there is to my dreams. I am convinced Brain was trying to tell me something, or why the triple-header? One dream could be coincidence, two dreams still not too heavy, but three dreams of a similar nature has got to mean Something. But is it a real Something? Or merely a Something that goes bump in the night and sets the dogs to barking? I do not know. But I chose to take it as a portent, a lesson, a head's up, maybe even a wake up call. I do believe that the reality is that it is my subconscious reminding me that the future is always uncertain, but that does not mean I should be afraid to drive forward, even with my normal Look Before I Leap nature. And besides, I've always said, "It is the ride, not the destination." Keep the rubber on the road.

Honor Your Body

    Once in a while I will hear a random phrase that will resonate with me, and my views on surviving and thriving. "Honor Your Body." Three words, simple, to the point, and Truth. I heard these words today, while searching through articles and videos to inspire and guide me on my next lunatic adventure in the rollercoaster ride I call my life. It is something I have held as a core belief, an understanding of my nature, a vow I have made to Brain, Spirit and Body, but I had never heard it put so succinctly. I love simple words for complex concepts. "Honor Your Body." It does sound so simple, natural, easy-peasy. But that is far from the reality. I have spent thousands of hours trying to always honor my body, even when, or especially when, all else seems to be crashing down around my ears, and when even Brain and Spirit are succumbing to the lies and torments of my Demons. Through the worst of days, the darkest of nights, the deepest abyss, I have tried to Honor My Body. Keeping Body fit and fueled at least gives me a safe sanctuary when chaos rages inside my skull and all around me. Body, healthy and happy, helps deflect assaults, minimize damages, and speeds recovery. Honoring my Body, maintaining a constant level of health and strength, power and passion, keeps me moving forward when all the forces of my world seem to want to drag me down, hold me back, beat me to the ground. Body saves me. Body protects me. Body shelters Brain and Spirit. Now, as I have put so much pain and agony behind me, I am able to put even more energy into Body. I love Body. The more I push, the more Body amazes me. Body is strong, supple, capable, powerful, active, reactive, responsive. Body holds the Fire that is me. Holds the Fire and fuels it into the maelstrom. Body thrives on challenge. Thrives, grows, metamorphs into glorious. I Honor my Body, in every way I can. And in return, Body holds me firmly together, prevents Spirit from leaking out into the Cosmos, saves Brain from explosion, defends all of us from demonic pummeling. And so I Honor Body by making it stronger, healthier, resilient, powerful. In the darkest of days, instead of demonic voices whispering, I will hear a strong, kind, impassioned voice reminding me with bell-like clarity, "Honor Your Body."  

Manic Aura

    I can feel it revving up again. It never ceases to fascinate me, the foreshadowing of an incoming episode. Whether Mania or Melancholy, I know it is coming before it actually hits. With epilepsy this is referred to as an "Aura," that strange sensation experienced directly before a seizure. Yes, I have experience with that too. I like the thought of a Manic Aura, and even a Melancholy Aura. It adds another level of elegance to the journey of my life. And now, with Manic Aura whispering in my ear, I am hoping I have had enough down time to be prepared to make the most out of this next whirlwind ride. As much as I can feel an episode nearing, there is no way to predict intensity or duration. It could be anywhere from mild euphoria and excess energy, to full-on adrenaline fueled delightful delirium. It is always a surprise, like Christmas morning.
    I do like to be physically prepared as well, during my last Manic mode I lost 3 pounds and had to rein in my workouts since I was nearly injuring myself in my zeal. But Body is feeling Great, despite a weird return of the delicate stomach. This time around I know it isn't stress, and my appetite, and appetites, are healthy, there just seems to be little that my body wants to digest without complaint. No big deal really, I can always work around what are really minor issues in the overall scheme of things. The key is being able to continue to fuel the machine that is my body with appropriate rocket fuel so I can race pell-mell through my days without wreaking havoc on the vehicle that I inhabit. I am feeling insanely healthy, wanting to push myself through bigger and grander challenges.
    Through the last few years, when all else felt totally out of control, I always felt that my body was the only thing I had any control over. Even so, it has only been the last 6 months or so since I feel that I have truly taken control, regained my old body, gathered my full strength, re-energized my true power, rebuilt my self-esteem, fueled the fire within, harnessed the athlete inside me. It has been a glorious reawakening. I honestly feel like a new woman; rebuilt, stronger, faster, better. Yes, like the Bionic Woman, but without all the aftermarket add-ons.
    And now, I feel the Aura. It whispers in my ear, soft promises of glorious days and sleepless nights, adrenaline fueled Manic Dance Parties For One, overflowing energy, rampant delirium, raging appetites, joy, exhilaration, exuberance, glee, dance til I drop. It may be just a day, it may be a week. It might disappear before it is fully realized. I never know until it is over. But the Manic Aura itself excites me.  

A+B=C? Or Not.

    I feel as if I have finally, though probably temporarily, hit middle ground. Mania has simmered down, allowing Brain to regain some control. Thankfully, Melancholy is nowhere to be seen, and does not seem to be lurking around any dark corners planning a surprise attack. So here I am, feeling what I imagine would be considered "normal" by most. Not surprisingly, I don't think I like it very well at all. Body feels good, though all too calm. Brain is managing some decently linear thought progressions without skittering all over hell and gone. I am managing to return to A+B=C instead of what has been a hilariously dyslexic viewpoint for a very long time.
    The upside is that I am able to manage some calm introspection that is not being wildly colored by emotion or Mania. I am able to think through a number of scenarios that have presented themselves to me in the last few weeks. Think calmly, rationally, logically. Put things into order and perspective. Make plans and schemes, write lists, observe, study. When Brain is calm, things fall into place a bit more easily. But when Body is calm, there isn't as much impetus to make it all happen. Ideally I will have a short period of "normal" when I can mentally line up an agenda for the next time Body goes on an adrenaline bender. The flaw in this plan is that when Body is pelting through life, it does not want to be forced or coerced into any specific chore. Preferring to leap into the project that is most appealing at that particular moment. If Brain forces Body to perform a task it is reluctant to do, Brain gets a similar outcome as trying to force a teenager to clean their room. Lots of energy expended, goofing off, random details done with meticulous perfection, but very little accomplished overall. I am still trying to concoct a method to get Brain and Body to work in harmony and synchronicity, but it is hit and miss. On the plus side, I do have so many irons in the fire that I can be assured that Body will find one of them appealing. But what I must do, have to do is get Brain and Body moving in the direction of major changes, of which there are many pending. I must, must, must move towards better financial stability and self-sufficiency. It is imperative. But Brain has ideas, schemes and plans growing, solidifying, gelling.
    There are dreams that border on fantasy, likely unrealistic and outlandish, but propelling me in some exciting directions. Brain may have finally regained some control, but Brain is also subject to emotions and the irrationality that can easily go hand in hand with my rampant tendencies. Burning emotion can be a remarkable fuel for thoughts, plans and dreams. It can stoke the fires to white heat, and rocket propulsion. Brain can handle emotion better than Body, using an amazing amount of tenacious logic to chart a course. But when Brain is looking away, distracted, Mouth and Body can make some startling admissions, truths revealed, unchecked by logic or rationale. Then Brain will have a near aneurysm, and move into panic mode, feeling the need to put out fires, make amends, back pedal, get back on an even keel. It is a very amusing dynamic to watch with impartiality, and would be even more amusing if I weren't at the heart of it all. But here I am, at times feeling like a passenger within my own Body and Brain, observing actions and reactions, seeing the drama from the inside, waiting for the train wrecks, amused at the fancy footwork employed to avoid said train wrecks. So much excitement within the confines of my physical shell. At times an Asylum on two legs, at others a vehicle for wondrous travel. I can honestly say, my life is never boring.