Error in Music

I realize that most of my posts are simply read by my friends, and I don't mean to alarm anyone. I would like to think this blog is read far and wide by people who: have been diagnosed with a mental health issue, or have been raped, or are in recovery. But it's simply not true, unless my stats are lying to me.

However, I do continue to post in the hopes that someone will be helped, in some small way, by my words. Either those with a diagnoses, or friends and family of those who have been diagnosed. It eases some portion of the pain to write, and be read.

I realize most of my problems don't show in my everyday life. That's why they are invisible disabilities. And I walk a fine line in this blog to keep from being committed, or have some other horrible action taken, which is society's current answer to a mental health diagnoses. Too, there are friends I adore, that I really have no wish to alarm. But shit happens in a mental illness kind of way sometimes, and I have become careless this winter. I am simply not taking care of my physical body. And I can beat myself over the head with that fact and still do nothing to take care of it.

I wait for a sign of some sort. I listen to invisible music, hold my instrument, wait for the interval to come to make it speak. I have listened to this cosmic music, and wonder if anyone else hears it. I know now, that others do hear it.

Meanwhile, as I wait, and whisper to the musicians on each side of me,  I wait to take my pills, I wait to walk the dog, I wait to eat as I know I should eat, until the signal comes. But I was only partially able to wait to cut, and I wait to drink, with no feeling of having any time in sobriety behind me now. And I do have that time behind me. But everyday, I wake from dreams of drinking, and I am born down with the burden of it. I do see that my Higher Power keeps sending them to me, to keep from being tempted. My support network is all that I could ask for, and more. And today, I am determined, and ask that the disease be lifted from me. Every night, I crawl into bed and thank whatever rules me that it has taken my burdens away for that day.

Although I cut one night, the next night I acted against the current of the music, and spent an evening with friends. I did not feel like being happy, cheerful, whatever. It's not that I don't want to be happy; it's that I feel I don't deserve it, as a Bubba pointed out to me, long ago.

There is this beautiful day, today, complete with snow. I want to go to the food bank, but don't even know yet if they will be open. I don't want to take my pills, but will. I didn't want to eat well, but did. The pause in the music, although it overwhelms me by its own beauty, cannot last as long as I may like...