Windy hilltop,

grizzled chest bared to the elements,

those about me concerned but ineffective

this is a war within myself  that I must win and lose

Win and lose in simultaneous tumbling tossing warring wrestling striving full energy, at full speed,, rocketing through existential space unable to put the buggy over to the edge of the speedway to replace a throw rotor or rotate the tires.

I am still me.  I touch me.  I am here.

I can trust and like and know myself, but there is a need for a course correction, right now, long before any reinforcements can cross the blood-brain barrier.

My inner fool throws me on my face to beat the rocky slope and squander energy crying  “It’s not fair it’s not fair….  not fair…not…”

My regal self knows I am fine,, just fine, better than fine, everybody should wish to be so fine, so wise, so clever, so full of understanding.  It is the rest of the world that needs adjustment, not me.  I am wonderful.  All-knowing, full of power and might and right.  Do not mess with me!

But I can read on the face of my loyal loving companion that there is something wrong,  I am bouncing back and forth between arrogance and despair, between growls of self-loathing and precious moments spent stroking my bold certainty.

I raise my once powerful arms to the heavens in entreaty, and from between the gaps in my remaining teeth is torn the tormented cry, as I war with myself,

Let me Not be  MAD! Not Mad!

I tear the remaining strands from my exposed head and howl, while at the same time I pet myself for comfort.

There there, there there.  It will pass, as it always does, and we will face the wreckage of life after the storm and build again.

If there is time.