being bipolar

even before the diagnosis, before i heard the words in which i was read my life sentence, “it sounds like you have bipolar ii”, the big bp, the beep, deep down, I always knew.
something just wasn’t right;

the ups were insanity: rushing & loud, endless with energy & the unique ability to do anything — & absolutely everything, all at once, & truly do it well. i had the world fooled — everyone thought i was fine. & i was, on my best days, when i am floating i’m flying fifty million feet above the world & let tell you about the view! but come quickly, be careful, because if you wait,

this limitless potential, this ecstatic excitement will leak over the edges & be all drained away in the instant that i lose my step…

& i always do — the fall comes suddenly & with it so do i, shattered & swollen & spilling all over the floor like blood in the rain.

it is too much to keep in my head, so i try to kill it by smearing it in black&white all over paper & pages & the click-click of keys;
the pain paints pretty pictures if nothing else, & i want to write it down, so this is it:

the part that can be written, & sung & screamed at the top of my lungs. the pieces that can be danced.
i warn you i write a lot, but mostly because i worry about what would happen

if i ever stopped.

*    *    *

but first, let me introduce myself to the world from which i hid & left behind. so, hi. i am the girl from my dreams. i don’t yet have a name but i have a number — and you can call me london bridges, because i’m always falling down.

this is where i blog about living with bipolar, and it is like…. dancing in dark rooms with bright lights.

i’m unmedicated & melancholic & hypomanic & i’m all messed up but i

have been so much worse.