sketches of a bipolar girl: The Woman in the Mirror

I don't like mirrors. I never did. I am always awestruck by the reflection. Who is that? Why is she wearing that outfit? I think a lot of my difficulties come because my sense of self is bitterly divorced from the reality of who I actually am. I don't feel my age, but yet I see gray hairs on my head. My body betrayed me years ago. I am walking around with my head in a cloud thinking I still have time to correct the serious mistake that were made when I was created. I am at a loss of what to do next because I wasn't supposed to live this long. Every once in a while, I catch that woman in the mirror staring at me. The first thing I notice is how tired she looks. I also see all the freckles on her face. The eyebrows are out of control and she cut all my hair off. Where is the pretty, perky, clear-skinned woman that I know myself to be? I have come to the conclusion that my body has been snatched. Someone or something has stolen the petite, funny, shapely person that I am and replaced me with a short, pudgy, sad, unlovable blob. I know that I am responsible for this attack on my person. I lost myself several times along the road of my life. Well, I really can't say lost. I know where I was. It was in one of the nation's finest mental wards. While my stays were needed, they also stole time. For example, I have to look at my phone or laptop to check what the date is. I spent all this weekend thinking it was Sunday. Imagine my shock at finding out that June is almost over. I decided earlier today that I was taking the whole thing too seriously. So, I did the only thing that made sense. I got a chocolate ice cream cone. I see both my therapist and doctor tomorrow. I have a lot to say. I just have to remember to talk. That's another issue with me. I don't like talking about myself out loud. I don't want to bother anyone. You all have so many other important things to do. Hope you all had a good day! Peace, Joy Love - B