Johnny Cash sang about it in 1975, the sacred song, The Sweet By and By.
I somehow doubt that it applies to me, although the sentiment is similar.
Cash sang regularly about the solace found in god but mine comes from a journey of self-discovery that started 20 something years ago.
When I talk about by, it is spelt with an i. Not bifocal lenses, bicycle racing or speaking bilingual, but I am sure all these things are cool in their own way and for the right people.
I mean, my grandma had bifocals that allowed her to read, tend her garden and cherish her family, my son rides his bike daily, up hill and down dale where he and his mates see fit and being bilingual is something I can only dream of, apart from a few rude words I have picked up along the way.
My first bi- experience came when I visited a psychiatrist who told me I would be living with bipolar disorder for the rest of my life.
A rude awakening to say the least.
There is nothing quite like being told by a bloke with more medical training than I have hit hockey balls that you are bollocking crazy, have been for a long time, and will be that way until the crematorium fella has finished with me.
It is a daily battle.
Are my medications right, am I eating well, am I getting my 10,000 steps in and does my bum look big in these jeans? All questions I ask on the reg.
Usually there is no cause for alarm apart from the judgmental button on my favourite jeans after a decent roast lamb.
Bipolar disorder is characterised by fits of euphoric mania and bouts of crippling depression interspersed by what I call, ‘normality’.
This normal is always a hair’s breadth away from a phase.
It sits on a spectrum where 1-4 is depressed, 5-6 is ‘normal’ and 7-10 is elevated mood. I like to float on 6.5. Normal with an edge I like to call it.
Triggers of episodes come generally from two sources. Chemical imbalance and/or lifestyle factors like heavy nights on the booze, drug use or life-changing events.
Which brings me to the other bi.
Since I was a boy of 15, I have had girlfriends, two wives and three children but something was always niggling at me. I have loved a couple, been fond of a few but lusted over those I should not have in the eyes of Cash’s god.
The bi I speak of is bisexuality.
Suppressed by being brought up in a right-wing and deeply religious family which brought forth the social norms of grow up, get a job, get married (once), buy a house, have kids, work like a dog and die.
Never veering from that path with questions of anything that might be viewed as weird. Anything stigmatised and if you do, may Cash’s god help you.
Suppressed homoerotic feelings really does not do much for your mental health.
After a recent encounter with another man, I finally fessed up to my wife, the woman who took a broken shell after my first marriage fell apart and rebuilt me.
With all the grace of my own personal angel, she took the information I shared and, as she has done so many times, moulded and shaped me into a person who can comfortably write this piece.
While Cash’s god does not like my lifestyle, I can safely say she is the June Carter to my Johnny. The one who keeps me grounded and safe from all the harm life throws and the self-deprecating thoughts of someone who did not like himself.
My sweet bi and bi now sees me living the life I was destined to live.
It may not lead to the very definition of the sweet by and by my hero Cash sang of, but as long as I am happy in this life, it does not matter what happens when breathing is the last thing on my mind.
Will Braid is a born and bred Tasmanian and the author of the soon to be released Murray and the Seagull. A person on a journey of self-discovery each and every day. A husband and father of three amazing children.
