It's another season of change
And I struggle to reorientate
With the pressure to keep face.
Alongside the winds of change
Comes a yearning to gravitate
Towards the centre of my space.
As the days get cold and grey
My emotions start to flay.
Up, down, inside, out
And sometimes split apart.
Cyclothymia is my bane.
I seek solace from the pain.
First I try to drown it out using distractions as a balm
Next I try to placate it using ego as a charm
Whilst these tactics serve their purpose
Neither of them are the focus.
I have to embrace the tumult within and ride it out with complete acceptance.
This too shall pass.