~Being Open about my Illness~You’re Crazy~

 
ImageAt the beginning of my diagnosis I was completely in denial. So although diagnosed, I did not even acknowledge my diagnosis for the first 4 years.

But now 4 years later I can look back and see that I fit the criteria of a bipolar person. With my acceptance came a desire to be heard and help others gain a better understanding of what it is to live with bipolar disorder. Just like Mill’s stated everyone has there own personal story, it varies with each individual.

I have only regretted it when I’ve been met with ignorance or indifference, or fear. I have indeed been faced with others who have not been educated in regard to bipolar as well as other mental illness. More people seem to relate to depression because more individuals are faced with it, as opposed to bipolar. I once wore the label of “clinically depressed” I was first diagnosed with clinical depression in my 20’s. It seemed I was openly accepted being clinically depressed.

Because bipolar disorder is related to extreme shifts of mood. It’s laden with many unknown variables. The sensitivity of the illness and its ability to shift in opposite directions, leaves others worried about your personal stability and sensitivity.
But generally I’m at a place in my life where I bare the label with openness and willingness to educate others and answer questions to the best of my experience and struggles.

Treatment and upkeep of the disorder goes along way with the stability aspect. When you have a good history of stability in regard to treatment, it helps others feel secure in reaching out to you. People are fearful of what they’ve seen or not seen or heard. When someone is exposed to me for an extended period of time, Barriers breakdown and a level of acceptance is then replaced with prior apprehension I was met with. Truthfully you can’t be bipolar in society without meeting some prejudice. I believe this is true for all mental illness, not just exclusive to bipolar disorder, but all. It’s not limited to just my label, but all mental illness labels, and autism as well.
Not for Reproduction~

~Suicide Tendency~ A Must Read~

The grand entrance will yield
Exquisite exit revealed
Choose which door
Dropped to the floor
And to think that it’s all seems a Complete bore….. This life so fake
It makes one wonder if life is to take? At a time of our choosing
And is it really this life that I’m loosing?
These Social niceties….
..These lies…
…This show is exhausting
Wearing these mask
It’s a grueling nightmarish daily task
Surreal Essenes clouds
eyes are heavy, as is the mind
And much of this seems to be a waste of my time
I’m gonna choose this door wisely
With swift conviction I will prepare don’t temp fate not on a dare…
my exit…
Or my entrance
Exquisite , Grandeur
Just be cautious
Tell no one that’s for damn sure
Silence…….
..Leaping into the unknown area
Exiting exquisitely
There, where all suicide tendency subsides
In this great unknown emptiness that deeply divides~

Not For Reproduction

~Purge~a Great Read~

Purge~
Trying to get the filth off

Within and without

Mind filled with sickening doubt

Walking in circles

Looking for miracles

None have yet manifested

You’re disconcerting

Deception braking connection

Indifference is contagious

Contagious and you’re attitude

Outrageous

Purge

Fighting the urge

To reach out

Yet again

Only to be sickened

By pathogens

Treacherous intent

Your Atoms and neutrons

Electrons spin in swirl

Protons completely out of this world

Yet…….from distance

Mixing within me

I can see

Sickened by your previous deception

Giving birth

bitter conception

To your evil heart vicious

And I’ll always be suspicious

Of why you chose me

Was your vision clouded?

What? You couldn’t see

What a beautiful heart beneath this flesh beating barely in my chest…….

Stop! I’m not returning!

I’m purging you out

Being sure

I stay pure

In heart

Holding this life together

Because you tore it apart

I’ll purge all the urge

To never get close to you again~

Not for Reproduction~

~Relationship & Routine~

Routine is a mundane thing which can dull the grandest thing~

Taking beauty from the action
Killing all attraction,the crave the touch the smell, the embrace the “I can’t wait to touch and see your face”
A time was such where the person place or thing was never ever to much, couldn’t get enough. Enough could never ever be to much~
Routine can kill all the beauty that once lived there causing discord strife it seems unfair, the mind its soul to tear~
If only to return to a time you were purely you
your attention was all mine
The time that nothing mattered
A time that was timeless wonderment of you, of me of all we could do,we could be~
It seems not long ago you were you
Not tainted and you didn’t know
Of things this world could do
But time and this mundane world and its routine can take the precious moments and turn it black and blue~colorless to white not sure if the precious thing is even worth the fight~
The colors fades…your interest shattered and the beauty of what once mattered lost in the heart and soul and routine is what made it cold, old…or was it simply you?
Did you forget the times of living in your head, forgetting times alone, the longing of a kindred, a lover, sheets a mess rolling thunder undercover…all across the bed.. Alone you once said “I seek another.”
But time has changed the beauty you found that took what seemed a lifetime. Turning the beauty & love and turned around in your warped and shattered mind.
Mundane,never the same oh the torture oh the mean of living in the sad routine~
Can you capture back the magic that made you want so much of the other person their smell, their taste, embrace the longing of their touch~

~Abandonment~

Hollow space where my heart did beat~
Memories flood but are mopped up quickly as to not leave a mess in the mind~
Words spoken can never be taken back, but can be twisted and sticky like taffy~
Relentless offense of a person she helped, held up in times of his need even married, but he kicks her as to crush her, to beat into submission~
Yet again she rises out of nothing higher, stronger, determined~
Battles fought given up to bigger things of God and men~
She often sits procrastinating, negating, this experience surreal almost fascinating~
Those thoughts that hang in the corners of the mind are chipping and torn like old wall paper that needs to be removed~
A longing, so long, that the word closure can not touch that which has been sought from long ago not just one closure but many, many doors need shutting~
Forever to be locked~
A love, one she would die for is the love of her son~
Yet another love she has lived with silently that can’t come undone… She often wonders is he the one? Was she hunted by him in a cyber like game, somehow it seems she was then his to claim~
Boldness, brazen and fearless yet
quickly brought to her knees when faced by each day~
Leaving no room to reflect and pray~
Nasty dirty towels seem to cover her path~
Her feet swollen bloodied by all the broken glass~
A single word, to describe all the pain, the word that causes tears to fall like rain~
Abandonment~
Abandonment thats how it feels~
That’s the one word that always yields the fear and rejection of loves long dead, only memories now that live in her head~
It’s description so hollow and missing so much, the love, support, the long for a touch, that hand to hold onto, arms that are strong, she wonders each day just how long~
Will abandonment leave?
It hasn’t thus far, as far back as she thinks its the thickest of scar
She wears it like a badge~
Covers her soul~
Others quick to judge her know not of the truth, because abandonment started long ago in her youth~
Abandonment~

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~Did He~Good Read💯

Did he know?
Turning her away
Aware
Catching each gaze
Allowing to stare
Did he care?
Holding her heart
Tore it apart
Did he cry?
Knowing his lie
Would crush her
Can he live?
Give back to her
Parts he broke
Or will he choke?
As he cries gasping for air
Knowing just how little he cared
Will he recognize?
His selfish condition
Serving him first
Greed, thirst
Will he lie?
To himself
Others
Compensating for his
Malice
Will he come clean?
Tell the truth openly
Hoping his loss and his story
Will teach reach others like him
Or Will he fester in disdain?
Always thinking he is above
He is right
Never learning heartless cold
Slowly as he takes his lies to his death as he grows old.
Or can he find courage?
Knock on her door
Eyes down looking at the floor
Asking forgiveness for the trouble he caused, the pain he unleashed
Finding each word as they spill forth from his mouth…. Freeing his soul
Bringing healing to her finally made whole
Did he know?

Not for Reproduction~

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~Facts~ Van Gogh Painting ~ Starry Night~

Below is the link explaining in more detail how starry night was painted while Van Gogh was in a mental institution and the painting was inspired by his view from the window of his cell from the mental institution.
https://www.google.com/search?q=story+behind+starry+night&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-us&client=safari