All that Glistens Ain’t Gold
I am about to air my dirty laundry. On the internet, where everyone can see it? Don’t do it, Holly Marie, don’t do it. But I’ve started a journey to find my lost soul and fix my broken compass. So how the hell am I going to do that if I don’t get down and dirty, scuff my knees, and break my fear-driven ego, which I hate with a fury? So here I go. I’ve mentioned in a couple of recent blogs to hang on tight—or something to that effect—but ultimately, it’s only me who’s hanging on for dear life with this one. So here goes nothing. Here’s the real real.
I am bipolar, which in no way serves as an excuse, yet it does help in understanding why I do some of the things I do. Personally, I can only speak for myself: being bipolar 1 means I experience long periods of mania followed by long periods of depression. The depression can get so low that I have no will to live, while the highs are so high I feel I can conquer the world. And then, when I’m really lucky, I have periods of peace and serenity—but for me, these moments are fleeting. All these states feel as if I am three different people with absolutely nothing in common. Even the way I dress and look changes.
So for the past six months, I have been on an upward trajectory. Yet in this last month, I’ve felt like a chicken with my head cut off. To put this in perspective: I stopped taking my medication because I was convinced I wasn’t bipolar. I started three companies, built three websites (including this blog), spent an enormous amount of money, and barely slept or ate a thing (and that’s just the tip of the iceberg). But my body had a different idea and shut down, landing me in the hospital, which for me isn’t out of the norm. My highs always have a crash landing.
So that brings us up to speed and into the present moment. Self-reflection can be a hard dose of reality. The “holy fuck” moments are much stronger than the “WTF” moments. Above all, my heart feels completely broken; devastation, remorse, shame, and guilt have set in. Because I know deep inside that I’ve made decisions I would never have believed I could make. Pure panic has set in.
In the past, this has brought me to some very dark places. Yet I have a program that has taught me that rigorous honesty is the way out—to get out of the problem and into the solution. So my solution to help let a little light in through what feels like a dark cloud looming over me is to write the following:
My blogs thus far have been my thoughts, my words, sprinkled and glistened with golden flakes of fake gold. AI. Now, I truly believe AI is okay, but not without a disclaimer, and I didn’t do that. Out of all the things I decided, this one comes in near the top that ate at me while I was laid up in my hospital bed.
So from now on, if I use AI—which you better believe I will to fix my terrible grammar—I have to ensure that I maintain my tone, my words, my voice, or I will have lost all integrity.
Ultimately, it’s between me and my Higher Power, yet I can’t stand it when I can’t rest my head on the pillow. So for me personally, the only way I can do that is to come crystal fucking clean. But Robert Frost said it much more poetic, “the only way out is through.” Now, in my opinion, he was referring to fear. Which, if I let it, will stale mate my ass every time..
This brings me to one of my favorite lyrics: “I’ll get by with a little help from your friends.” And I know for certain that The Beatles were referring to human friends. Gotta laugh at ourselves, right?!?
Love you all, and if you read this, thank you. XOXO, Holly Marie
Just as a side note: I uploaded a song on this very subject, “No Rest.” I wrote this in pure mania with a little help from someone much wittier than any AI in the world…my father. God, I miss him. Andy Waddell for playing guitar and Davix Foreman for producing it. https://youtu.be/uVuu7Ybu0JQ
******Disclaimer: To Human AI: please fix this grammatical. (Now that’s not so hard…sigh of relief)
