Did you know I have trouble riding trains?
As a poor student they are my primary method of transport. I ride several each day on most days, and I live across the road from a station. I’m on one now, listening to my music and typing this post on my second hand iPhone with a gorgeous minion case.
But I struggle with it every day. Every day I wait at the station, every day I hear the trains noisily go by my bedroom window.
Because it reminds me of things I want to forget.
Days crying on my bed, wanting to run out and jump in front of the next one.
Times when I was on my way somewhere, hopelessly waiting for my ride to come, fighting the impulse to take that step away from safety.
Every time I get on one of these things, no matter how well I’m feeling, I remember. The pain, the crushing feeling, the desperation for an end.
But I get on every day.
I keep living my life.
That’s all we can do, right?
To my readers with Bipolar who can relate to this, you are strong. You are stronger than people give you credit for. It’s not just about making it through the hard time, it’s living in the aftermath. I admire anyone who continues to live after these times. I admire you.
And if you know anyone who struggles with Depression or Bipolar, recognise how difficult even the little things can be. Let them know how wonderful they are.
(Apologies if this is poorly written. I’m operating on 30% brain power while I recover from a stomach bug. Regular posts will resume once I sort out my university schedule.)