I Will Fight.

It feels like I'm standing in the middle of a seesaw. Or maybe walking a tight rope.

I lean to the left and I feel gravity pulling me towards the dark place that I hate. I don't want to go. I push toward the right, try to stretch up to the joy. Maybe if I reach it I'll be lifted into weightlessness and the gravity will be innocuous.

Two polar opposite ways of existing that seem to live so close together. In the time that it takes to reach a shadow of hope, it takes half as long to feel the cuffs and chain arresting me into the mire. The strongest power pulls toward the ground, but I am learning to fight.

This is the longest, slowest battle that I have ever fought.

But there have been times, just a few of them, when I have tasted the sweet effortlessness of a mind unaffected by disease. It's like being physically ill but then the pain passes for a second and the relish of that relief feels like the best thing you've known in all your life. Sometimes those moments have combined with the touch of an almighty hand showing me that there is a far greater power that I can trust in.

Those are the moments that keep me fighting.