One more day!

This is, oddly enough, my last day of being a teenager. It's still early in the day, but I figured I wouldn't get another chance to post until Monday, and I wanted to look back over the things that have happened to me in a year.

Or even really the change that has happened to me in a year. Specifically one thing, I guess.

This time last year, I was up and down and all over the place emotionally. This year, I'm stable. Sounds good, right? I thought so too, but today, in reflection, I decided to look back at where I was a year ago.

I am glad to be far away from all of the things that I had to deal with before going on meds for being bipolar. The whole "finding the courage to press down" thing. But now, I am not even sure I know myself. Nothing inspires me anymore. Sometimes I feel a little happier in my body or a little more relaxed in my surroundings or the slight urge to take a picture...but I can't remember when the last time I had the urge to write was....really write. The way I used to. If anyone is curious as to what I mean by write, well, I keep a blog of all of my poetry.

I hadn't written much this year, even before I went on the meds, but I wrote a lot this summer, right before coming to school. And now there's nothing. I can't even get out a haiku worth two glances. I have been keeping this blog in the hopes that something will all of a sudden pop out and take me by surprise. So far, I've not been that lucky. I look at where I was a year ago, and I wish I could know that kind of happiness again. I know that with that happiness comes depression, but I can't live with this "non-feeling" much longer. I tell myself that it's worth it. I've been able to maintain friendships, get my grades up, be dedicated to my committments and love Bryan...but I do miss something. I miss the way that my mind would explode with thoughts about the rest of my life in technicolor or how I would reel from the words which I would pour out onto the page. I miss the days when nothing made sense except for doing cartwheels and laying in the grass. I miss enjoying a group of people because I wasn't paying attention to them at all. I miss being able to live on that separate dimension that I used to be able to share with just myself.

I guess now, that dimension has been replaced with Bryan. Our long walks this winter were the only times I could wonder about the right and wrong of the rest of my life...

And I'm far away from that now.

So, my question to myself and to anyone out there listening who has ever gone through this...is medicine worth it? Is it okay to be a little crazy? And what part of myself am I sacrificing by being on medication. Is it even a real part of myself, or just something that I imagined existed once? Do I have the power to get it back, or even get close? And in the really healthy environment that exists in Japan, do I have the courage to try to go without my medication again? Is it worth it?

I'm tired of life being gray. Every day blurred by my inability to really feel anything. I can care. I sometimes can even recognize things about me caring about people. But it takes something like Bryan being far away from me to realize that I love him and to think about the difference in fun level that would exist here if Emily was here instead of really far away.

I mean, sure, I have been able to stay on a decently productive level on my medicine. In fact, sometimes I have been able to write. And sometimes I have made sense. But what is it to produce something if it's no good. I feel like all I do these days is produce passages of uninspiration. I feel that I am not even capable of being able to show someone the beauty of Japan anymore without relying on my pictures to show them. I used to be able to describe all the beauty I saw only in words.

I will use the word "genius" for lack of a better word...but where, where did my creative genius go? Did it really get surpressed into the back of my mind with the depression? I would imagine that creative genius and depression don't breed good company. And that's what's going on in there, just waiting for me to give it a chance to get out.

Then again, even really depressed writing would make me happier than producing endless amounts of nothing.

After some more reminiscing, I decided to do an "updated list of me," mostly for me to get a better sense of where I am in my life right now.

I know: far too little about the world to make it better.
I want: to be held and touched.
I have: a daily budget for the first time in my life.
I wish: only to have a real wish the next time I see a falling star.
I hate: losing myself in a sea of consumerism.
I miss: myself.
I fear: never finding my voice again.
I often: spend hours thinking and doing trivial things because I lack the motivation to pull myself away.
I hear: music without caring about it.
I like: BRYAN!
I ache: only physically. And somewhere else, deep inside.
I care: about writing.
I always: find a way to defeat myself.
I dance: when I free my body enough to be open.
I cry: when I realize that the Internet will never be a good way to tell someone you love them.
I write: far less than I ought to.
I confuse: myself now with who I was.
I can usually be found: online during the day and eating most of the night.

It's time: for me to grow.

Realizing that my life now isn't as much on track as I would like it to be, I'm kind of disappointed. This summer, I was headed towards a life as an individual. Now I feel like I have a LIFE, but lack the individuality part of it. I really am going to have to do some serious thinking about where that leaves me.

Next time you see me, I will be 20.