I Have Been Misplaced

I was looking out to the shore. I was feeling like I was in the wrong place (wrong beach) with the wrong people, doing the wrong things.

The surf has barely been enjoyable to me.

My mind wanders to other places and possibilities. What if I took myself somewhere else? What if I invested my time doing something else?

These what if's...they sting.

And I absolutely fear that I might be deciding to do the wrong things. Like, just a week ago I wanted to get pregnant.

Now I wish to have my period so bad.

And then I tell myself: You gotta make decisions that you can live up to. You can't live the rest of your life changing your mind and dumping people and going away.

I wish my thoughts and feelings are a little more consistent. But yeah, thanks to bipolar I'm lucky if I'm not suicidal for the day.

I kind of don't know what to do anymore.

I kind of just wanna cry and get lost somewhere in the woods. Or maybe smoke a cigarette.

This is what happens when you leave home and brave the outdoors. You can always get lost, be misplaced, and find yourself struggling to figure out your way back to where home is.