not again, She sighed, heaving herself out from under the bed…
My description of mania, which I have heard used in similar ways, is that I have squirrels in my head. There is a difference with my particular squirrels though… I hear them. Not always, mind you, and yes, I have told this to my mental health pro’s. Whether they diagnosed this as schizophrenia I am not party to, but I am not concerned. I only hear mine when I don’t take a specific medicine, the rest of the time they quietly shred the insulation of my mind…
I have been extremely vigilant, in the past 22 years since my Bipolar Disorder diagnosis, in sticking to my medication regimen. This is a big contributor to my continued success at thriving in spite of my illness, but my disease will still, and always try to convince me this is a lie.
Very similar to a certain someone at the Tree of Life…”you will certailnly not die.”
Yes, oh yes, I will.
I have been on the back of a motorcycle going 120 mph, feeling my fingertips loosening their tentative grip on the madman at the helm. Laughing wildly at the heavens and imagining letting go and floating gleefully to my mangled end. Loving this feeling… Seeking this feeling… Living for this feeling…
(Somehow I lived thru this feeling.)
The lack of sleep, lack of food and lack of coherence was all contributing to this awesome feeling of mastery over my world. Until it wasn’t. When I was unable to scramble eggs because I couldn’t see who was behind me, ready to strike, I was not enjoying the rush. When I spent so many consecutive days in the house that I let my bananas rot in the hot car, I was not enjoying the rush. And when spent all day Tuesday believing it was Monday, and having no clue what I did on Monday- I was really not enjoying any rush.
I was feeling very close to the edge in the past weeks. Glorying in the dizzying of being out of control, rationalizing that-because of my med compliance- I could enjoy this feeling and allow it to overtake me. After all, I’d been putting out my best work-just look at all my followers and the little hearts they post beside my images!
Now the wonderful rush was never-ending white noise, lack of ability to concentrate, a blazing headache and dread. Surrounded by an environment closely resembling a battlefield, and right smack in the middle of the war zone this:
Is she wonderful? Yes, to me she is, and she will do great in the recycled art show she will soon be in. So will this painting:
At what cost, though?
I hope that you embrace all the Bipolar Creatives in your world today, let them know they are loved, and that it’s OK to breath once in a while. If they are anxious or behaving like the world is on fire and they want to watch it burn, help them put the flames out and seek professional help. They are sick, not criminal… Give them a place and a way to rest their weary heads.
I am so glad that I have a support network who love me, and solid pro’s to adjust my meds. I’m grateful God saw fit to let me live today, to feel the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. And I’m so grateful that I did not let go…