this morning

Before my eyelids cracked open this morning my belly was churning with anxiety.

Tomorrow night ... bipolar support group at 7PM ... my first meeting. I'm going, right? Are you going? Yes. Are you sure? Are you sure you won't find a parking space, trap yourself inside your car and drive off like a coward? No. I can't. The meeting is an opportunity. This group could offer me refuge. Hope. Of course it could, but we both know you are your worst enemy. Salvation sleeps in the cold sheets of death; redemption rests in the hollows of your heart. It's so much easier to turn away and fall into the solace of silence. Place gun to head. Pull trigger. Game over. No. I can't. Self-preservation is the opiate of the masses, you said it yourself. I'm going to this fucking meeting. I'm going. I'm going.

I have to ...

Give myself ...

H o p e ...

However tenuous that specter may be.

xx