I’ve been low. Lower than I have been in years. It’s not uncommon with Bipolar disorder. You have your highs, and you have your lows. Both have cost me. A lot. But this time, I had an amazing support system that was in place to help me push through. When I didn’t have children, it was too easy to never leave the bed during a low. I didn’t have that option this time. I was up by six-thirty each morning to feed and take care of my daughters. I work evenings, and recently have been working every evening until ten or later. Which means I get to bed by eleven at the earliest, only to wake up in the middle of the night for the littlest, and then for good at six-thirty. Sleep is the best remedy for a low, but that was not an option this time. A mom can’t stay in bed. She can’t cover her head with the covers, curl into a ball, and wish she were dead. I couldn’t do that no matter how much I wanted to.
After a week of this low, I turned to my Goddess. I cast my circle, turned on some relaxing music, and meditated. Nothing else was helping, so I gave my mental health over to Her and prayed for help. I chose the Element of Water to help me on my journey. With my fingertips in my blessed moon water, I closed my eyes and envisioned a stream. I asked for help. I asked for inner peace, so that I could finally feel like myself again.
And she responded. I was taken to the stream I envisioned. I could feel the water around me as I floated on my back. I could feel it and hear the difference as the water covered my ears. And then she came. She was water. Her outline was clear, yet she was made entirely of the water from the stream. She came up beside me, and I knew instantly that it was her. All I could do was cry. Tears poured down my face as she embraced me. She held me to her as I sobbed and we drifted downstream. We went down a waterfall, with me lying on her. I held my hand out and felt the water pass through my fingers. I don’t know how long it lasted, it felt like hours. The most relaxing hours I have ever had. My muscles served no purpose, so they did nothing to hold me above the water. It was all Her. I called out her name in sobs and clung to her as best I could.
As I came out of the vision, I could feel how wet my face and lap was. I reached up with an unsteady hand and felt the tears on my face. I don’t know just how much I cried, or if I was sobbing aloud in my living room, as I was in the stream. But I felt different. Shaky, but more myself than I’d felt in a long time. I closed my circle, cleaned up, and went to bed. I had no dreams that night. Nor did my kids wake me up. I got a full night’s sleep. She knew. She knew what I needed, and now that I had finally asked for help, she was there looking out for me. The next morning it didn’t hurt as much getting out of bed. It didn’t take as much mental strain to smile at my girls.
I wasn’t cured, I wasn’t even out of my low yet. But I was better.