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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/759500
Rated: 18+ · Book · Experience · #1879766
Starting to blog again--an attempt to organize my daily routine
#759500 added August 27, 2012 at 11:13pm
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Instant Bipolar Kinship

Now I feel badly about my previous entry. A new member at WDC responded to an old poll/survey I have in my port about bipolar disorder. I'm not only sympathetic to her problems, I'm empathic. I can feel her pain and confusion. I know she doesn't know where to turn for help and support, and somehow she wrote me. I guess I've written her three e-mails this evenin g. I wish I could be with my new "sassy" friend, because it's so difficult for the persons around the person with the mental issue too.

Basically, a possibly bipolar Mom can't get in touch with her hospitalized 18 year old daughter, who she has only been able to see in court. I wouldn't get the details right from memory, but she and her daughter have been going through separate hells.

I know the systems are set up the way they are for good reason, but privacy laws applied between a mother and daughter really hurt. At the same time, I will add that there are things I've told my psychiatrist that I would never want my mother to know.

Knowing she doesn't know something hurts a mother, I know. But there's a good reason for most rules and regulations, and you just have to believe that "whatever" is for the best outcome. Real oxymoron, huh? Is it, to believe that there's another part after hell on earth, another side past hell? How can it be otherwise when we all wake up renewed every morning of our lives

My puppy problems of late are of really no consequence--except my anxiety level is higher and I wish my pup knew to behave better. My house is in the biggest mess of my life. But that's just stuff. That's nothing like occupying a bed in a mental hospital, or having a loved one you can't find out information about in the hospital.

Bipolar is a medical disorder that affects mood and behavior. Moods swing from high to low in minutes sometimes. A person could say, "I hate you," then turn right around and profess the truest love with hugs and affection. A bipolar life is not easy for a person to live, and it's often hard for the family to take, watching it from the outside, so to speak.

Bipolar is like fireworks in my life. When my bipolar symptoms flare to the fore, it's like being in the middle of biggest fireworks show in town on the 4th of July. You feel like everybody around you sees it, and knows (and sometimes they do). But, you just stand there in the middle of the fireworks display, amazed at what's happening around you, what's happening to you, aware that you can't do anything to make it stop, and it's also scarey because the fire may fall right on top of you. You have no defense from what you yourself have created. And it's all biologically based, not a decision someone made to be obstinate that day.

At other times, my bipolar is like the idea of fireworks to celebrate Christmas. It's not there to be seen or felt by me. It's like there aren't any fireworks, and there never were--not that I can remember anyhow. Bipolar symptoms are different for different people. But once a bipolar person gets psychotic, and loses touch with reality, and starts acting like behaviors have no consequences, the hospital is the best place to be, and under a doctor's care.

I was last hospitalized for psychotic bipolar symptomology in 2009. Maybe a half-dozen times or so I've been hospitalized in my 57 years on earth. When I'm out of the hospital, it's like I was never in . . . kind of a vague dreamlike memory, fuzzy from the effects of the drugs I was prescribed at that time.

Bipolar Daydreams: poems and essays is the name of my unfinished book, and I do have a publisher for it. I've been working on this book for ten years of WDC poems and essays I've written. I've been trying to turn it into a book since last October. For about the last month I put it to the side because I just couldn't deal with reading the content, much less editing grammar.

But this lady who contacted me out of the blue is the kind of person I'm writing the book for. She's known her daughter for all her time on earth. Now she doesn't know her or understand her, and this new lable of "bipolar" has been assigned to her. It's a scarey thing for both people. Just the word bipolar strikes fear in many people's hearts. Bipolar does not mean out of control for the rest of your life. It does mean you need to be responsible for seeing a doc regularly, being honest with him, and swallowing all the pills you are supposed to every day for the rest of your life. It's a long-time commitment when you get the diagnosis. You have to be your own best friend, especially when you don't want to.

My book is for people who don't know anything about bipolar, and want a glimpse of what it's like to live a bipolar life. It's not a death sentence unless you make it one, and the suicide rates are frighteningly high. I know that a person can lead a somewhat normal life having bipolar, with medication and counseling. That's what I want people to know. That's the message of my book. I want to tell other bipolars that we are okay, and we can make it past any hurdle but it takes work.

My book is a worthy endeavor, but in a way I'm stalling because I'm afraid of finishing it. I have a habit of not finishing things, but this is too important to quit on. It's also a touchy topic to take on.

I'm wishing the best, and saying a prayer for my new friend in the realm of bipolarness. I wish I could be there to give her a hug. I want this to be my first thought when I wake up tomorrow, so I'll get back to work on my book and finish it.

I guess self-discipline is difficult for people and bipolars too. God bless us every one.







Sunflower seeking rain
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