What if?

What if I didn't have bipolar disorder? What if I didn't spend 6-8 months a year in a dark alternative to reality? What if instead of not wanting to wake up into this world in the morning, I would, as I do now, enjoy the awakening and the blue skies in my window? What if I enjoyed at least something during those 6-8 months a year?

What if I had a neurotypical brain and could concentrate instead of jumping between tasks and thoughts every 45 seconds? What if I didn't have hallucinations and didn't hear random people talking in my head. What if objects that shouldn't move wouldn't move? What if I didn't have delusions and paranoia? What if it didn't seem to me that the trees by the road are plotting some kind of conspiracy against me. What if I didn’t think that asphalt in the park is soft and that my husband is a bird? What if it didn’t happen during or outside of depression (like now)?

What if I didn't have PTSD? What if there was no abuse in my childhood and I didn't have to spend 40% of my energy trying to convince myself that the world is safe?

What if instead of wasting an infinite amount of resources, both emotional, temporal, and financial, to help myself, to support myself, to just stay alive, I would spend those resources on something else?

On projects, sports, dancing or other pleasant hobbies? On a career or on art?

What if?

It seems to me that if it was so, then I would have been the president of the universe by now.

But I’m just Anni The Couch Burrito and I am lying on the bed and my head is an absolute mess and it seems that everything around is spinning, moving, and falling.