A Limber Heart

Photo taken by Abby. I live in the Bay Area of California and am currently working through the birth of a beast, called Bipolar II. I am still learning about what it means to me to have a mental illness that has a name, but remains fairly hidden in my daily life. I am happiest when I am travelling, and my favorite self-care activity is taking my camera for a walk and focusing on what the frame shows me. I also keep a photo-blog that narrates the happenings around me that I find quirky, funny, or serendipitous.

About this photo: Feeling stuck, I dragged myself outside with my camera, and this tree waved it’s wiry, limber arms at me. I saw baffling, inexplicable heartache. And I saw hope, because on the other side of this barrenness was a resilience, an aliveness, a potential energy waiting for spring. This inverted heat map version of the tree depicts the cyclical chill of the veins, even when surrounded by warmth. When the arteries choke, so does the heart. Living with bipolar depression means losing sync with the rest of the world sometimes, and losing touch with what matters most: the pounding pulse of our own remarkable selves.   

Seeking submissions for the Broken Light Collective. Send photos today.

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