Springing into Spring:
The Bipolar Perspective
Written by Anonymous
The sun is finally out and we’ve packed our winter coats away. Spring is here, and it brings a new fresh energy. If you suffer from bipolar disorder, like me, you may find yourself literally “springing into spring”.
My yard looks amazing because of my elaborate detail to everything around me. The mania spins into euphoric happiness; the world shines with its majestic beauty. The smell of spring shoots through every part of my body giving it more energy. Mania seducing me into the temptation of soaring too high in the clouds. I know the risk but I just don’t want to stop! Look around at all I have done! (I applaud myself because I used it for good this time!) My self-esteem could not be higher; I’m capable of everything, and really let’s be honest everyone loves my energy….
What goes up must come down…
What people don’t often notice is what happens when I start falling from the clouds and land in a pile of rocks near an ocean. Broken bones and waves that will not stop.
The stinging. The noise. The pain.
I look at the bank account and realize how much money was spent to feed the mania and create all the beautiful art. Now I face shame and guilt because I allowed it to happen again.
(Because of all the times I snapped at someone while I was working on my amazing project)
Now my usual routine:
“I’m sorry”. (you know the drill).
“I will try harder next time.” (I don’t want to hurt people, but it will probably happen again).
The worst part about bipolar is I know it will never end. It WILL happen again and again.
Shame. Anger. Blame. Hopelessness.
I’ve tried not to go down this path again. I’m so sad and everything hurts; I want to turn it into anger, but then I would push everyone away (which hurts everyone in the end).
My heart feels like it’s shattering. My body is a corpse laying on the shore, and I’m floating above. What if this is finally the time I don’t come back? I lose reality. The absence of self never been so deep I can’t snap back into myself. I feel lost looking at a face that is not mine.
“Smile Ivy.” I tell myself. “Do kind things. Be loving. Work harder. Listen. Smile. Just keep smiling.”
Because if others knew the truth of what’s behind my eyes, they would be afraid. They would not come near, they would not trust me with anything.
The excruciating pain pushes me further away from my body. What if this is it? What if I’m finally lost and can’t find my way back? Despair is the only word that can touch this feeling. Broken bones being pushed around by the ocean waves; some remain, some float into the depths…