And now, isn't it wonderful all the ways in which this distress has goaded you closer to God? You're more alive, more concerned, more sensitive, more reverent, more human, more passionate, more responsible. (The Message Bible, 381)
I often attend Javamonkey Speaks, which is the open mic spoken word held every Sunday at Javamonkey, a coffeeshop near where I live. I went there two weeks ago with some peers; when I go with peers I usually make a deal with them that if they present a poem, I will too, but I just wasn't feeling it that night. I told them I would just support them this time. But sometimes when I tell myself that I will be quiet at a function, something will happen that will make me feel compelled to speak anyway. First, my favorite Javamonkey regular announced that he had been diagnosed with bipolar and that it was very hard and challenging. I felt bad for him, as even though we haven't talked together much, I hold a lot of fondness towards him. He is one of the most vulnerable poets I know, very quirky and special. That night, he did a hilarious monologue as a German radio show host that made me laugh until I cried. I felt for him but I did not yet feel compelled to say anything. A few poems later, another regular came on stage and announced that she had bipolar too. It was the way that she said it that made me feel that now it was time for me to speak up. She is a teen who I admire for bluntly putting her struggles out there week after week. Unfortunately, being a melodramatic teen, her poems are almost always epically cringe-worthy. This one was no exception. Her life, as she sees it, is terrible, pure misery, and having bipolar disorder just makes it that much more excruciating. I get it, I do. When I was first diagnosed with my illnesses, life was hard. It was excruciating and I was melodramatic too. Yes, it was reassuring to talk with other people who were struggling but what I truly needed was hope, which unfortunately, very few people gave me in the beginning. Hearing this teen's troubles let me know what I needed to do. I quickly found a poem that I didn't mind too much and signed up to share. When I got on stage, this is what I shared, as much as I can remember:
Hope Is Real
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If you have a minute, I’d really appreciate it if you took a look at Emily’s Virtual Rocket. This is a serious newsblog which has been taken from e-newspapers and e-magazines from around the world, with an emphasis on transgender issues. Also, with his election, I look for articles which critique Donald Trump.
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