“There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart
— It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood.”
Why did Sylvia Plath feel that she was on display for the world to prick and pry, beside her obvious, publicized suicide attempts? Despite her misplaced, beautiful mind, getting past and moving on from her grief seemed to never quite be in her reach. In people with Bipolar disorders, mania plays out differently for everyone. I’m not suggesting that Plath was Bipolar, but I am suggesting that when the mind takes us to that mysterious place where all we feel, and all we see is alone, and all we can hear are the ruminating thoughts playing it’s whacky reel over and over in our heads – the overwhelming emotions become palpable, tangible even, but only to ourselves as it takes us on that un-magical carpet ride to the land of paranoia. Here, we know, without a doubt, that the outside world has found out all of our deepest, darkest secrets. We’ve become transparent, weak, and now we’ll be made a spectacle for all the world to see – tossing us into the lost world of circus freaks.
For many, what they just read may seem dramatized and not make much sense, but for some, they would say it was only the beginning. One nightmare after another, except it isn’t a nightmare, its reality, within unreality, within reality that’s unfolding layers of incomprehension in a timeless and perpetual kind of torture.
If you are one of these people, I can empathize and will forever have a connection to you that can’t be broken. If you are one of these people, then you are also a survivor, even when you can’t fathom what that would look like for you, BUT, keep reaching for that proverbial light at the end of your path, no matter the struggle, you will become victorious. And now, you’ve conquered another one, surviving yet again, producing a stronger version of the self you were just weeks, or even months before. Congratulations, you’ve made it again.