[amaviena]

"COME WITH ME! I have an AMAZING idea!"
Amanda Viers

lacquered in a heavy, grey film,
I observe the world.

blotting out detail
pursing my lips on the tissue of dim
my visage enhanced.

smoke surfaces where it does not belong

my fingers seem foreign
I examine them in wonderment

breezeway lips to imagined or real destructions
amazing grace pleas hummed at an unsteady tempo

these chemicals write my blood chemistry
chain reactions radiate through my nervous system
store-bought lobotomy
I develop a tic.

"The benefits outweigh the side effects,"
they say.
The noises become quiet, I jest.

my day is restricted to bar graphs and pie charts
delicious reminders of differential indifference.

I slink into my bed and lie still in waking hours
watching patterns on the ceiling at night
when the chemicals may run free;
It is not safe.

Take two sedatives and call me when you shake them, lady.
My fears have been reduced to milligrams.

There is a tear in the seams
I venture out
examine things slowly and watch
colors bleed together

to myself I proclaim, in question,
Is this a glimpse of happiness
or does it simply
define madness?

[thinker22]

That's beautiful...ironic, sad, and explorative. It reminded me of a poem I wrote when I lived in NY a few years ago and was in (what I can now see so obviously as) a mixed episode:

Knots in the neck
Carefree scrambles
Of tofu
Whimsical days
Harrowing nights
Spastic dances
101 ways to die
Conveniently
Why go there though?
Way too interesting
To see what the chemicals
Will throw our way
Opening tulips whisper
“We have the answer”
I incline an ear
Next to baby’s breath
“Look, no feet”
Oh yeah?
“Just beyond the candle
Dripping purple black
You’ll find a glass
Filled with your poison
The sun is setting
My little vampire
You worn yourself out yet?
No, didn’t think so
You must sleep child”

Distracted, I gaze out…
Look how they blow
The scraps of plastic
On penitentiary barbs
Almost mournful shreds
Spirits stretch toward skies
Held down by metal earth
Your body was never yours
They turn, looking at the hooks
Where they were caught
Now melting in waning light
Freezing in the dark,
Awaiting another chance
As I reach for the cold stem

(called it Barbs of the Beautiful Dead) My best poetry is always when in one sort of an episode or another. We lived in a loft in a converted factory in Brooklyn and there was a junkyard across the street with barbed wire above the cinder block wall. Since there was always trash on the ground and much of it was plastic, it'd get caught on the wire in the wind.

Not sure if my poetry needs a trigger mark, but I'll add it just in case.
Can I say again how happy I am that you're back and okay?

[amaviena]

Saying you're happy I'm back needs a trigger mark because I'm happy and teary-eyed....elicits reaction right? I get a lame trigger mark now. I just bought a book called: Finding your bipolar muse: how to master depressive droughts and manic floods and access your creative power.
I do not think an episode is precursor to art, though some times it feels like it. I'm hoping this book will help me better organize my thoughts.
Books are my big investment right now.

[thinker22]

Books are good, yeah. I really need to be able to focus again soon so I can read the stack that's piled up over months, but whether I'm on meds or not, reading just doesn't come easily like it used to. Either my brain's too frenetic to sit down and concentrate on a single subject or it's so depressed that all I want to do is sleep. I realize that before I sought treatment I often had these problems, but they seem more acute since on the meds. Like the meds have caused me to rapid cycle and that blows.

Of course I missed you. We bipolars all need each other and when one is sinking the rest of us wish we could be there to help. Our cycles suck sometimes, but at least when one is down another is up and can help see us through. Others who are down at the same time can commiserate also. You know all this. I wish I could give a real hug to all the people who've helped me on here, you included.

I have an appt at noon...today to see a new p-nurse. I'm afraid my hypomania will end, but I know I need to get back to sleeping or something bad will probably happen.

HUGS!!

[Topher]

Several years ago I wrote this about the loose associations and the racing mind of a manic episode. It's why I take my meds.

Manic Sensibilities

In want of contentment I have delusions
Of grandeur that I am God
Almighty I can barely speak as fast as I think
About it, if I were God I would love
Lost and found out just in time
Less magic to fix this mess with me boy
Oh boy wonder bread of my body
Builder of all things good
God I'm so tired.