A poem about the highs and lows of Bipolar and reaching stability.
If you don't feel in the mood to read you can just sit back, press play and watch the video instead.
Hypo/mania is a special place, life is just fantastically great. I am the life and soul of the party, laughing and joking whole-heartedly.
Others dance with me to my infectious tune, everything in life feels bright, warm, and sunny I hope this doesn't end any time soon.
I sing a cheerful song as I soar through the sky my bipolar wings are helping me fly very high. I fly for days, weeks and sometimes months without much rest, I feel that I can stand this test.
Mania joins me and comes along for the ride flying with me by my side. The sun is too bright and I can't see what is within my sight.
Adrenalin leaves my side I am not enjoying this ride. The storm replaces the sun, I am in trouble but its only just begun.
My bipolar wings become battered and bruised, I can hardly move. I nurse my wings, rest and hope for the best, my tired wings wrapped tightly around my chest.
My bipolar wings break and tear, now they are broken and I have woken, they served me well but now I am in hell.
I am going solo all the way, falling down while I pray. I fall straight down into a mixed state, and then depression, a dark place filled with anxiety, pain, tears and hard lessons.
I have flown in the sun and battled the storm, now it’s time to stop and learn how to walk.
I say goodbye to my wings and find my legs, they are weak and numb, I feel so dumb.
I walk with a limp, I stumble and fall, I crawl across the floor.
The road is a bumpy ride, and there is no where to hide. A visit to the psych, and a med review would be nice.
I have roamed around with the others here in the past too, but have left at times I can tell you.
It's a lot of hard work, sweat and tears, recovery takes time. But it is worth it I shall keep that in mind.
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