It's at Home.

I can’t find my journal.

Today.

I feel .

A few weeks ago someone said they believed I was bi-polar (or something like that).

There is no way someone can be that happy all the time.

I thought you were just manic most days on your instagram stories.

Manic.

Because today, even regular happiness is a rarity.

So, I must ask myself today.

A day where I actually feel tired.

A smile is far reaching.

A grin feels forced.

My face straight forward.

My eyes

My mind

Blank stares.

When all I want is silence

Oh

I almost forgot the question.

So, I must ask myself today.

Are you a manic-depressive or are you just human?

Are you both?

Are you tired of starting over and over again?

Are you ungrateful for renewal and grace and promises for refreshing?

Do you look in the river and only see a broken reflection of who you are

Or do you see one constantly transforming into who you’ve always been?

What happens when the version of you, you have always known is gone?

Are you mad?

Or relieved because that person lived in cycles.

Carried anxiety next to a God who

Suffered.

You chose to suffer.

Let your peace never be still.

This burden is heavy.

I am not light.

What happens when you backpack your way from grace to grace.

Following the lead, but forever clinging to the comfort of your very own pain?