Saturday, June 5, 2010

From the diary of a bipolar person: Part 1

There once lived a man and a woman whose paths were destined to cross and lives would become entwined forever. They both emerged from the battlefield where the battle had been bloody and fierce. They had fought bravely till the bitter end. They were wounded and they would carry their scars for the rest of their earthly lives.
When she looked at him she saw the light of life radiant from his eyes. He seized life with outstretched arms and his passion and compassion for life touched the corners of her mouth, leaving them with a smile. A smile filled with love and compassion. He had an inner strength which made him a man amongst men. A man who was honest and true, strong and righteous. When she felt his arms around her and she could feel life throbbing in his chest, she felt safe and secure, loved by a man that filled her very heart.


Her love and compassion for the broken lives touched his heart. He had often smiled at her naivety, but her blind trust in people often gripped his heart with fear. He could see the danger, anticipate the fear. He was proud of her; for she held her head high and did her part in what she believed had been dedicated to her.
Then one day a stranger entered their lives that would change their lives forever. At first they didn’t even notice him for his ways were subtle and smooth. When his presence became apparent, they didn’t know his name, nor did they sense the danger that he presented. They left no stone unturned to identify his name. Once they knew his name, they lived for a oh too short a while with a false sense of hope and security.
But shortly they came to realize that his presence would be cruel and indefinite. At times he would keep them hostage and he would cause havoc tearing apart anything who would dare to cross his way. He would seek in any corner, surprise them when they expected it the least. After the storm had subsided, they would recollect that was left, broken and torn. Every time there were things that they could use no more and they tried to rearranged the furniture at least to try and believe some sort of realness if only for a short while.
Sometimes he would leave them alone for a while and they could start sewing the torn, repairing the broken, regaining strength and remembered again the special bond they share.
But then, when they had least expected it; he would launch his master attack, leaving them devastated, emptied with no more to give. When there was nothing more to take, brake or destroy, he would taunt them, hissing at their pain. They started blaming each other; at least they were each others’ allies. She had let him in, he knew she never had a choice, but see the destruction! She believed the taunting voices telling her that he was the real intruder, he was the enemy.
They both knew it was neither true, nor fare to each other, but what to do, what to do? They tried their utmost best, so many were at stake, but all in vain. One day he looked at her and was so surprised, for who was she, this taunting, cruel and demanding creature. Where was his loving wife, who had loved him, nurtured him and stood proud alongside him? What had he been fighting for, what had he been fighting against? Was this really worth it, all the pain, all the anger that sometimes threatened to consume him? What had become of her, his soft and gentle wife?
She seldom looked at him anymore. Too much pain, too much sorrow, too much anger, too much shame. She was afraid to look him in the eyes, afraid that he would see the emptiness, the pain. She physically felt the pain where his arms used to be. She was lost and alone, afraid of the intruder that was always there.
She searched for the love of her life, but he viewed her from afar. The wall he built around him, to try and escape the onslaughts, was becoming high and strong.
Her eyes found his, but the light that once had shone so bright, had vanished from his now sad and tired eyes. She could sense an overwhelming sense of pain and despair, for he believed that he had lost her. She felt his loneliness and her strong and proud man was afraid of what he had once loved so much.
She wanted to cry out at him, climb the wall, reach him, touch him, feel him. He wanted to tear down the wall and love her, hold her, protect her. But they both stood there, unsure of what to do, for the intruder could attack any time, each onslaught worse than before. Could he risk it, was it worth the pain? Could she try to break down the wall and then leave him in the lions’ lair? Braking down the defences for the desire to make him smile again, to bring back the light in his eyes. To feel his strength radiate from his proud body.
But they both knew the intruder would always be an inseparable part of their lives.
Can they take the risk to trust again, love again, feel again? Is it worth it?



2 comments:

  1. Sjoe, nie net hartroerend nie, maar ook baie goed geskryf.

    ReplyDelete