I was sorting old papers and journals and came across a poem / journal entry I'd written long before I became a member of DP. Some of it I thought was good, some of it was [very] bad, but here it is, a peek at the past:

. . .

I reach up high, I hit down low
my mood swings quick, don't know where to go
I pray for strength, but it doesn't oblige
so I hit lower lows, and higher highs

I lose control, I lack discipline
I know I'll get better but I don't know when
I'm falling out, I'm flying in,
This episode is just beginning

you reach out to catch my fall
but you're not prepared to carry it all
my emotional state adds weight to my will
I can't help myself - I can't keep still

I'm falling, I'm slipping, I'm searching for a hand to hold
but I chased away my lifeguards a long, long time ago
and I'm not one to regret, my life's not over yet
but if I could turn back time, I'm not sure I wouldn't.

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