When the world keeps stepping on your dreams just create stairs~NJM
Ok. I’m gonna take you on a tour to try and experience what mania feels like. I’m writing about my traits mostly, and a few small stories along the way with added visual effects. So come on in…..
So What does a manic episode feel like? Lets begin. The fun part:
(if there is such a thing) it’s like your on cocaine. So if you’ve ever done coke then that’s a good platform to grasp exactly how the early stages of mania feels like for me. Ten feet tall & bullet proof.
This stress will then manifest itself in Creative ways. First my interest in music increases. So much so that every song is speaking to me and was most likely written for me, and has special meaning that I’m obviously the only one able to receive the special message, the only one able to hear the encrypted meaning. I’ll think of a song I want to hear, I’ll shuffle my entire list of songs on my iPhone(740 songs) and about 9 times out of 10 the song I wanted to hear will be selected . “Wow that’s a connection” I’ll think. So now the universe is speaking to me through the songs as they play.
Next I’ll begin to have a pattern to my speech. Not only will I begin to speak faster but I’ll speak in riddles, rhymes and beats. I become the Dr Seuss of bipolar rhyming. And every word is profound and perfect. Why? “But of course” because its coming from me. I think to myself “it’s the nuggets of wisdom that fall from my mind, it’s the words that escape you that somehow I find” kinda stuff.
Finally numbers come into play. I’m a 0101 baby, born January 1st! Alas I’m binary! And that ignites the magic around me. Things come to life and meaning can be found anywhere I look especially in numbers. Meaning to what? Meaning to life! How I can save the world! Wait I can’t even save myself.
I put it back outside later. Now I’m the queen of the bees! Or at least for the time being this seems to be the case.
Next lets take life on a dangerous dare! I get into my car, decide at 7:00 am to go back home 2 hours away. But I’m gonna make it there in 1 hour & 15 minutes. Why? Well I can drive with such precision and ease when I’m super human. So much so that speeds of 100 miles an hour is achievable once my mind, my body and the road, adapt to my driving style. Which I proceed to drive the entire way home at speeds between 90 to 100 miles an hour. Can’t let that speedometer not be on my lucky number!! 0101 my birthday, the encrypted magical message. thinks to myself “Must keep achieving speed of 101! I can do it!” And I did. Thank God I’m alive to recall this to you, and that no one was killed
Fearless thy eyes doth search yet fear grips~
Hollow shell of thy existence doth shake still filled with entitlement~
Horrifying lies spew forth as distance grows believing in thy lies~
Spinning through tunnels off balance yet walking a line of deceit~
Doth thy mind play tricks?
Thy judgment mitigates causing confusion~
Hands held outward beckoning solidarity yet filled ? Thy crawleth cowardly through these corridors surely thy know thine way~
Inordinate perceptions flys high above far reaching yet right in front of thine~ah so beseeching~
Clenching thy fist forbearing actions tainted quickening haste and for what? Thy gain?
Equivocal form thy life disreputable~Hallow lacking luster,
Doth thy remain critical? Ah yes I see thy will always be~
Seeking this conspicuous conspiracy only digging thy hole deeper~
Abating others cruelly yet tormenting thy self thinking thine comfortable~
Deceitful apprehensions cloud over thy appetite, an endless appetite for destruction~`
That longs for the destruction desperate attempts are futile~
There stand abrading thy torment filled with hysterical laughter~
Gravely grotesque figure without form finding thy shape in shadows~
Endeavor enmity consumes thy needs, needing more and more~
Always left yearning~
Not meeting thy need~
Perpetually perplexing persecuting domination~
Thy frailty subdues all thy once knew, still knowing nothing but lies~
Nonsensical as it beckons thy near~
Further thy shell empties year after year a gaping hole is all that is left~
No Soul, well perhaps a bit of one, but stale and old~
Rotting thy heart sneering~
Yet you remain~
Hallow….ever more no release~
Not for Reproduction~
I’m in the grey…….
Grey Chasm swallows
I’m in the grey it’s where I’ll stay for now
I will not attempt to move quickly
Nor will I be rushed
Do I fascinate?
Do I invoke fear? Hate?
Am I your guilty pleasure…
Is there no distance yet to measure?
I’ll create my walls
Build my tower strong
Brick by brick no matter how long
Exterior crusted over with
Innuendos and regret
I’m in the grey
I will not be pulled away
In this Chasm I will stay
Until I decide, until that day
You can not reach me… There is no definitive here
No truth or lie
If I want to stay until I die
It’s then a matter of choice
The beauty of my grey instilled in me a voice
Slowly it drips…..spill forth from my lips
Turning my words to black and white
Finally to distinguish which is wrong and which is right
But I shall not take flight oh no, I will move slowly with precision
At the end of the day it’s my decision
For now I’m in the grey area
Safely in my tower, walls erected
While my thoughts become collective
In the grey
I recently wrote about truth and forgiveness, upon waking after a decent sleep I awoke inspired to write a few more bipolar thoughts. So after a bit of prayer, and thanksgiving I felt the need to expound upon other issues considered taboo, subjects of a certain nature, issues we skirt around that are easily ignored by some of the very people who are afflicted with this virus of the mind we call mental illness.
See often time’s conflict or malice, jealousy; hate can be just like mental illness… Grudges held, harbored with indifference, tormenting the mind, much like the virus we call mental illness.
Think of a computer being the mind, and often times our computers have a virus, which eats away at the data, causing the computer to run slowly maybe even shut down, in any case a virus sucks. No amount of defragmentation will remove the corrupt virus. Instead it needs a full diagnostic repair, a definitive diagnosis to best find the course of treatment.
However unlike our computers that we can easily replace the mind unfortunately cannot.
A virus whether it is of the physical, mental, or emotional kind, can often occur simultaneously. You know the kind where your sitting on a toilet diarrhea coming out one end, vomit out the other.
In my recent exchange on topics uncomfortable to discuss the subject of mental illness came up. I’ve had the opportunity since becoming a member of Quora/Wordpress community to be a spokesperson of sorts. You know the one, or in my case the go to Gal if a question you may want information on with regard to mental illness needs answering in a more discrete way, because like I stated above its a skirt around issue laden with stigma, shame and even remorse. I understand, its cool, you’re not ready to go to public or speak out yet about this virus of the mind. In fact I feel honored that others feel I am approachable with such sensitive issues of the mind.
I’ve exchanged some great and touching views, ideas, personal feelings on the topic of mental illness both in the question forums, and mostly via private messages.
I’ve strived to bring light to what I call “the forgotten subject” or plainly stated the ignored area of existence that each and every one of us encounter whether it be your personal illness, a spouse, relative or a friend or an undiagnosed one of your own.
Before I learned to fully embrace the diagnosis I received, I was among the majority of “those people” Who prefer to ignore, belittle, or just firmly state the phrase “it’s all in your head, snap out of it” and truly it is “all in our head, your head, my head’……..
Now hold on a minute, in no way am I saying you’re mentally ill necessarily.
No, I’m merely offering up dialogue to paint the picture in your mind of the message, my plight about a subject near and dear to me, one that has affected me personally due to both parents and their parents having some form of mental illness and my present diagnosis.
Not For Reproduction~
What does it feel like?
Like any illness in general it sucks.
Why? There is no cure.
When I first received my diagnosis I stayed in denial for about 2 years.
I mean who wants that stigma right?
Both my parents suffered enough with the illness, so early on I swore “not me” “I’m not gonna get it“
Majored in Psychology to gain a better understanding , while earning my degree , I had my first bout. It was after finishing statistics in psychology.
I’ve been up and down all my life. Looking back I most likely lived with it for the better half of my life. The traits that others found endearing, such as boundless energy, the life of the party, ideas that were radical, spontaneous, whimsical, rhyming, the abuse of drugs, Was all cool and fun.
As I got older those traits turned from endearing to dark, and bold, and brutal.
Believing yourself to be a superhuman of sorts is not realistic. But I did believe this. I also believed many other non truths while in mania.
The low, the depression, it was real bad. So much so that suicide was a close friend of mine that I romanced often. Attempted twice. Hospitalized against my will because of it. Even wrote a large essay about suicide and how it is actually courageous and in no way selfish. I rationalized this by turning the selfish element on to those who would miss me, as being the selfish ones. And truly I still see it that way.
The only reason anyone wants you around them, although some may claim love, it’s that they need you, they want you. In that alone arises their selfish desire of needing you to stay here. I realize that this is a polluted thought , but it rings true to me.
Bi polar disorder skews reality, it blurs the lines, and we don’t always use nor have the same filter as those not afflicted with this disease of the mind.
But I always remind those who will listen that some of the greatest minds were afflicted with this disorder this disease.
Here is a link to see for yourself the list of many famous minds:
It’s always some struggle, because there is always some fight.
It’s always a struggle in the day and at night.
Egos at play
Words you can’t say
It makes it easy for our hearts to stray.
I place upon you,
You place upon me
We can never seem to just let it be.
Twisting and turning convoluted
Lacking control and abandoned compassion.
Brutal in truth
Standing your ground
Thick all around.
Minds that refrain
Lives in constant pain
Lives in the struggle
The never ending strain.
Pitiful characters are what comes to mind.
Knowing the struggle they constantly find.
Not For Reproduction~