A lot of people think bipolar disorder is just mood swings, or a joke to crack when someone has a bad attitude. Well, it’s not. For me, it’s a clinical mental disorder that puts me in a struggle everyday.
On one hand, during the highs of my bipolar disorder, I am faced with burst of creative energy, churning out drawing after drawing, composing music left and right, taking on every task given to me. My nights are sleepless and my days are endless. I feel invincible, infinite, until the inevitable drop.
I plunge off a cliff into a deep pit of despair, desperation, depression. The nights are endless and the days fade past in a blur of black and white. I am there but not really, lost in my own mind questioning my existence.
These pits take me weeks to dig myself out of, whilst I hear people tell me cheer up, just be happy, get over it as if the deep falls of depression are just a paper cut that can be forgotten in a few moments. The people who question the urgency of my emergency because last week I was so happy. Last week my mind was a creative burst of colours and ideas, my world was bright and in a manic state.
My disorder is nothing but something you joke about when someone has a bad attitude, but it’s something I battle on a daily, something that makes me fear the very most vital organ in our bodies.
I’m afraid of the thoughts that cross my mind, I am afraid that the manic states will make me fall into psychosis. Bipolar disorder isn’t just mood swings, its a total unravelling of my existence that make me understand the beauty of the way the sky bends over an ocean and the grace of the frail and quiet night.
A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy? ~ Albert Einstein
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