The Grasp of Bipolar

"wake up
wake up
wake up
wake up
wake up
WAKE UP! " whined the alarm.

"hahaha" He just chuckled, rolling back over taking Her with him. She didn't want to go. The days she'd always loved to explore and live and love... they were gone. He'd taken them; and with each imprisoned day, she too was stolen away.

How can you escape what binds you so closely, what heeds you from within you? What takes who you are, and fragments it as if an antique chandelier had fallen, reduced to a million shattered pieces of crystal; each with it own unique jagged edge, creating an impossibility for reconciliation between them.

She had been fragmented by him, no longer whole; instead an extension of his destructive all-encompassing body. By filling her mind with lies and twisting her heart with emotion he forced her to be the cause of her own downfall. He remained blameless in the shadows.

And then, he was gone as quickly as he'd come. She was free of his grasp. Or so it seemed.

AWAKENED
Ecstatic to be unbound, she lived - high on life itself, soaring through moments which felt like hours and days that passed so quickly they went unnoticed, unremembered, un-regretted. Her current world was blurred, but amazing crisp. Unrelenting thoughts provoked her. Something was luming though, she could sense it around corners, in dark places... had he come back for her?

Immediately she spiralled,
DOWN.
HE is my bipolar, to cope I must separate his grasp from me.
I think this clip from SYTYCD was more based around the hold that drug/alcohol addiction has on people, but it relates to anything that keeps you down or prevents you from being who you truly are or who you want to be. I remember watching this well before I was diagnosed and felt I could connect with it. It has stuck with me ever since.

 >>> For the most part I've tried to make the posts in this blog as positive as possible; partially because I'm naturally optimistic to the point of annoyance... but also because even when feeling immensly down and hopeless, its quite the "pick-me-up" to write about how you want to feel. Fake it 'till you make it right? For me, that actually works. Short-term at least!

This post may not be positive and I don't apologize for that. A day in the life with bipolar is a lot harder to spin positively when looking at the mere daily coping - day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute - as opposed to viewing BP from a broader perspective as a life long journey, rather then a death sentence.