It Has Many Faces
It has many faces
And they all blend together like
An artist’s overused smock.
It looks like a grey sun,
Not shining as bright as it used to–
Like nature used to rejuvenate,
But now it simply drains you.
It looks like floors full of crumbs and debris,
As your vacuum sits unused,
and your dishrag dries to stiffness,
As takeout containers stack up on the counters
And your fridge’s produce rots.
It looks like missed texts,
Ignored calls,
And mindless scrolling–
Using internet interactions as a personal shield
Against the task of facing loved ones.
It looks like a skipped shower,
Or two,
Or three.
It’s smelling the ripeness of your sadness
But becoming allergic to the routines
You worked so hard to create and maintain.
It looks like an aversion to the gym,
Eating first meals at 4PM,
And last meals at 3AM–
It’s yellow piss in the toilet
And untouched floss.
It looks like hyper-sexuality
But avoiding the mirror’s reflection;
Wanting to be touched,
But never wanting to be seen.
More than anything,
The worst of it feels like wet denim:
Clinging to your skin
And weighing you down
As you belly-crawl toward the light.
But when you finally reach it,
The faces lose their terror—
They look different in the light of day;
They shift and change their shape
Like clay.
And suddenly it feels like that first peek of sun
Through sheer curtains
On a sunday afternoon with no plans.
Suddenly it feels like lighter, fresher air that’s easier to inhale,
Clouds that looks fluffier,
And trees that look greener.
Suddenly it looks like an overdue cleaning session:
The purging of items,
Organization of shelves,
And restructuring of bookcases.
Suddenly it looks like extended showers,
Exfoliation sessions,
Balanced meals,
And a balanced heart.
And suddenly you feel like smiling
And saying ‘yes’ to the invite;
Saying ‘Yes’ to the possibility
Of life being worth the struggle.
And we should take our sharpest knives
To slice a piece of this feeling
and save it for later.
We should store it in a safe place
As a forever reminder
That
it
has
many
faces,
But some of them can be friendly.
xo, Z
I was diagnosed with Cyclothymia a few years ago and I am still learning how to cope with the highs and lows of it in healthy and productive ways. If you or someone you love is struggling with their mental health, please understand that hurt does not last forever and every process cannot be perfect. There’ve been plenty of times I coped in unhealthy ways, fully aware of the damage, but couldn’t bring myself to practice what I’ve learned. There will be slipups, and there may be hopelessness. Show yourself grace. Even if it hurts to exist, keep existing. All wounds heal, time will continue to pass, and you deserve to see when it does.
Thank you for reading a retelling of my experience.
openpathcollective.org is affordable therapy for all.