My seasons

My seasons, a sort of look at having anxiety and bipolar

My thoughts have many seasons.
Just like the great outdoors,
my state of mind goes through such a similar whiplash of inconsistent spells.

The beauty of that comparison is almost humorous, since these seasons have always held such a negative stigma in my mind.

One day, or hour, or week will be summer. Ill be happy and active, enthusiastic and curious.

The next minute or second or month will be winter. Ill be cold and uninterested. Iced over and stiff.

Then in the blink of an eye it will be fall or spring. I will still be Icy but somewhere inside me i will feel the heat burning, wanting to come out again. I find myself enjoying the things I may not always see beauty in. Like how rather calming the sound of all the leaves crumbling inside my head is. Or how the rain of my winter thoughts feel at night when they run down my cheek.

But God it feels good to let my heart rain and those thoughts crumble. To let that cold out. And to wake up to summer yet again