Bipolar in Order: Advocating for the Mentally Ill
Musings on mental health, mental illness, life, love, and philosophy
Here is a collection of poems that have been shared with me, our experience with depression and bipolar disorder. Some of us really can write when it hurts enough. I'll begin with two of mine. Oh, illness you are crushing me Deathβs door begs to open for me Brain I cannot handle Strangles my brain, … Continue reading When it hurts, you write
Oh, illness you are crushing me Death's door begs to open for me Brain I cannot handle Strangles my brain, scrambled Hurts, the pain rambles Voices, not my friends Where are my friends? I cannot hear anyone Nothing in my peripheral lens Cats meow and rub on my leg Don't want to stink and Bloat … Continue reading I write words to have a friend
Bipolar is like being in the ocean. Sometimes you're floating peacefully on your back, other times you're caught in the undertow. Less frequently are you splashing around like when you were young. But you are always in the ocean. You may treat your disorder, but there is no going back to dry land. Sometimes the … Continue reading Bipolar is like the ocean
Depression is not sadness; it is being buried in dreams of anxiety and pain It is staring at the same page of a book and not even hearing the rain Depression is not sadness; it is wanting someone there but having nothing to say It is not feeling the wind on a cool breezy day … Continue reading Purgatory, a poem about depression
Acid reflux, nausea, and oversleep-ing... these are a few of my favorite things. Isolating, spending, and overthink-ing... these are a few of my favorite things. Sociopaths, addicts, and one-time flings... these are a few of my favorite things. Sobriety, appointments, and medication dings... these are a few of my favorite things. (Still working on a … Continue reading Bipolar tweeting
Cobainesque 2003 (15 years old) It eats away the outer layer Leaving me in the cold It's difficult to open my eyes They're entrapped in mold My days have become shorter My nights do not exist I bite the dead skin off of me Something I just cannot resist The cries of emptiness swim inside … Continue reading Teenage poetry
Medication Nation 2005 (17 years old) Behind every corner, there's an answer An explanation with a fee I've ventured around those corners While finding no such answers for me A mere glance at one can garner them A prescription to their dreams 'Cause in Medication Nation Nothing is really as it seems
