Chaotic

Easy as riding a bike

I taught my little sister how to ride a bike when she was 5. 13 years ago I sat her on a small seat and held the handle bars while pushing her down my grandparents street. Cheering and laughing, telling her I wasn't going to let go, but, she was already doing it on her own.
No one ever taught me how to ride a bike. I remember sitting on the handles bars or the pegs of my cousins bikes as they tried to explain what to do. I understand the bike riding concept, you sit, you balance, you use your feet to push the pedals and you use your arms to direct where you want to be. My grandfather gave me a bike, and I don't think he realized that I didn't really know how to ride it. Because when I was by myself on the bike I could always stand and go down a hill letting gravity do it's job. standing at the top, my feet floating above ground as the pedals are leveled under the tense pressure of my body. Loving the ride, catching glimpses of all of my surroundings, eyes wide, laughter bouncing off of the pavement around me, filled with so much hope. So caught up with the warm summer sun and self made blissful wind, I ignore the fact that I'm on my way down. Then a couple seconds where I could sit down and breath, the world around me slowing and I could pretend. Lifting my feet from the pedals and almost feeling like I really did know how to ride a bike. And maybe from the outside world it really did look like I could. But suddenly, id hit the bottom and the force that came with the hills gravity would slow me down and suddenly I'm struggling to move my legs. Struggling to catch the pedals from under me. Understanding the crash is a few breaths away. Id close my eyes and allow the pain to swallow me. Hitting the ground. I can't get up at first, I can't move. I can't breath honestly. But then Against everything my brain is telling me, against my better judgement and everything I know. I'm standing on the ground and picking the bike up, slowly making my way back up the hill. But, the way up is so much harder than the way down. I never understood how I could either stand and fly or sit and hit the ground. It was Almost like my brain and my body couldn't quite communicate to create that perfect balance. I think now, it's quite the metaphor for my mental state. Maybe, The universes way of foreshadowing the way my mind would work all these years later.
Life is, as easy as riding a bike.
Mania is like standing at the top of that hill, breathing deeply and freely with so much excitement and buzz. Deep cleaning my house until 6am, writing a book, working on a painting, doing the things I love so freely. So destructively. Not acknowledging the crash that is bound to come. Because why would I dwell on that when I crave the ride so very much.
Then, A few moments where I'm in between sitting and standing, where my surroundings come to focus and I can stop laughing to just breath. Only a few though it's the shortest part of the ride.
Finally, I hit the ground. Stuck in the same spot, thinking the same things. Fighting everyday to climb back onto the top of the hill. Realizing the 6am cleaning meant I didn't fall asleep next to the woman I love. I didn't finish any of the projects I started, just stuck myself with a longer to do list for next time.
The difference between now and then? The street lights would kick on, and I'd say goodbye to my friends. I'd step inside my grandparents home. I'd play cards with my grandpa, read a book with my grandma. Tell them all about the adrenaline I'd experienced that day. I'd be tucked in, bathed and ready for bed. With the choice of whether or not I'd endure the ride again tomorrow.
Now, there are no street lamps. No choice in what kind of day I'm going to have today. All I do know, is the way up is getting longer and harder every time. Sometimes though, the time in between is longer too, I get to be in the space after the hill but before the crash a little longer. Those are my favorite times. I can focus and breath and not feel too much but still feel something.
I wonder sometimes, how different my life would be. If someone had only taught me how to ride a bike.