Papa Can You Hear Me?

Remember those words?

I think it was from the movie "Yentle or Yentel" with Barbara Streisand.

That's my tune today.

I guess I'm singing it to God, but only half heartedly; I now that everyone gets a thorn in their side.

I haven't come to terms with the whole bipolar thing; especially since there's such a stigma about it. Some days I can convince myself that I'm really not bipolar. But then the panic attacks begin or I close my blinds and turn the lights off so I can be in utter darkness, and then I realize that I only have 51 cards.

I don't wanna be bipolar. I want God to take it away. I really do.

Yea, Yea, you only get what you can handle, blah, blah blah.

Well, I don't want it!

Well then Butterfly, everyone gets something.

Would you prefer diabetes, and to inject yourself daily?

Would you prefer to lose a limb?

How about tourette syndrome, would you like that?

See, this is how I make myself feel better. I know it can be worse.

But still, on days like today when my chest tightens because I dread going outside, I sing my song:

Papa Can You Hear Me?