Here's a poem about rapid cycling bipolar. Title: "It's"

This is a read aloud poem. I read some parts of it in a sing-song voice, emphasizing the word "It's." The poem speeds up into mania as you read it.

It's

It's the body
It's the mind
It's the environment
It's chemicals.
Depends on which era you're in.
It's inherited
It's your upbringing
It's trauma
It's your genitals
Maybe it's caused by sin.
Give her a pill
She's really ill.
Look she's screaming again
Nothing we do
can ever please you
It's starting all over again!
It's the moon
It's vitamins
It's the gods
It's her diet
Here it comes -- the pain!
I don't need medicine!
I just need resting
Turn off those noises
NOW!
But it is so quiet
Don't start a riot
Stop making such a row.
He'll hurt somebody
She's running away
What? You're crazy
I never said what you say
I've tried
I've cried
I've begged
I've prayed
And I've read the net
I know I'm gonna get it licked
I've been stable for 6 weeks
Such a relief
It's all over
Now I can work at last
No more pain
Ever again
Life is such a blast
I'm keeping a chart
Off to a new start
Over the pain from the past
Here's what I'll do
You'll see.
She's a rebel
He's just trouble
I hate her!
I hate her!
I hate her!
My tears burn my face
It's such a disgrace
You've popped my bubble
Haven't been so happy in years
She's taking offense
That's not what I meant
He's got no credence
My credentials are perfect,
You know.
I know that's true
But you don't think straight
Your brains are amazing
But something is missing
Something is really off base
I don't get it
What's going on with you,
anyway?
It's not over yet
I've got it licked
I've been framed
I'm so ashamed
I know it's real
I swear.
I'm frantic
I'm in a panic
What's going on?
It's the air
I'm in a maze
Wandering in a haze
Pacing, tossing, moaning
Wish I knew
Wish I were dead
What's going on with me?
What's going on with you?
Nobody's hazing you
Godd.m.it what makes you that way
I've never seen you like this
before
Please....give me a kiss
a hug a cuddle
I'm so muddled
How can I love
someone I can't trust
I give my heart
And I get blamed instead
It hurts so much
I need a soft touch
Stop beating around the bush
Tell me what you really mean
I'm trying not to tick you off
I don't know what you are talking about
I know you don't
So I'm through talking
I'm leaving
Now.
Maybe I'll be back
And maybe I won't.

did you write this?

it's good!

i'd love to take part and post my own stuff, but after what happened on another site... no thanks.

will just settle to read all your lovely stuff

[OctobersBlackRose]

I wrote this last year while hypo, luckly I saved it in Google.docs. I still feel like this everyday. My therapist thinks this is disassociation Im going through, a freaking year long episode apparently. Meds are.helping a little with it...

"I just want to be me again"

Nothing seems real anymore
Everything seems like a dream, turned into a nightmare.
When will I wake up from this twisted dream? Will I ever wake up? Or am I stuck in a world I do not recognize?
Nothing seems real anymore
Have I fallen into another reality? Or is this my actual reality? Is this truly where I belong? I feel I don't belong here. This world is not made for me, yet I am here.
Nothing seems real anymore
I don't recognize myself; who am I now? I am locked in a vicious cycle of thoughts that are not my own. Locked in a sick and twisted mind that is taking over me. Is this truly what I see? Is this truly what I feel? Who am I, and am I real?
Nothing seems real anymore
I just want this nightmare to end. Please wake me up, please tell me this is all an illusion. Please don't let these thoughts take over me, please wake me up. Don't let me fall back to sleep, just take the pain from me, even for one day. I can't take this, nothing seems real anymore.
I just want this pain to end.
I just want to be me again.

Originally Posted by shattered sanity

did you write this?

it's good!

i'd love to take part and post my own stuff, but after what happened on another site... no thanks.

will just settle to read all your lovely stuff

Dear Shattered, thank you! Yes, I wrote "It's".

Could you say what happened on another poetry/creativity site? Now I am worried. If you don't want to say on this thread, perhaps you'd feel all right about sending me a PM to explain?

Dear October's Black Rose, Your poem certainly does describe what you are going through. Sounds like some form of hell. Your poem is really good! Well done. But I'm so sorry that you have to go through that, to generate your poem. Do post more of your work if you have it.

[OctobersBlackRose]

Originally Posted by flowerbells

Dear October's Black Rose, Your poem certainly does describe what you are going through. Sounds like some form of hell. Your poem is really good! Well done. But I'm so sorry that you have to go through that, to generate your poem. Do post more of your work if you have it.

Than you, I don't have anymore work right now (meds are taking my creative side away) but if I have anything in the future I'll post.

[fishin fool]

Originally Posted by OctobersBlackRose

Than you, I don't have anymore work right now (meds are taking my creative side away) but if I have anything in the future I'll post.

I feel the same way about my meds.
I have always had a real creative side that I love but the meds seem
to take that away.

Originally Posted by flowerbells

Dear Shattered, thank you! Yes, I wrote "It's".

Could you say what happened on another poetry/creativity site? Now I am worried. If you don't want to say on this thread, perhaps you'd feel all right about sending me a PM to explain?

i just sent you a message

[mossanimal]

As an artistic bladesmith.. these are the things I've been working on since my hospitalization. It's interesting that I've switched to no-brain historical reproduction rather than flights of fanciful work I did before:







edit: shoot... not sure why my images aren't showing. Oh well. Darn it.

Save
Save
Save

[Standup2me]

Trees sing and smile
They tell me about the touch of the cool winds
The silkiness of the rains
I smile and sing along
Our secret song
Our secret

Dear Standup2me, a lovely, gentle poem. Thank you -- it's heart warming, really it is. Sometimes when I'm walking underneath some very large trees, I feel some sort of spiritual energy -- don't know what to call it -- the soul of the trees maybe - and I just stop and take it all in. Maybe you've experienced it. Or scientifically -- maybe it's all the oxygen there.

[letsgogh]

During my last major mixed episode I made a book with illustrations for the poem 13 ways of looking at a blackbird by wallace stevens.

It's pretty nice, I think. A bit dark. It was good for getting my feelings an outlet.

Sounds like a fascinating project! I bet you totally enjoyed making your illustrated book. I'm not familiar with the poem --- I have heard of Wallace Stevens. Maybe a creative writing class I took once assigned some of his poems.

[letsgogh]

this is a page from it, if you want to see.

I don't know that it was fun at the time because nothing was really fun at the time but... it was certainly something I look back on and still enjoy looking at and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. That was how I got into bookmaking in the first place.

Sometimes cool things come from bad situations.

Hi letsgogh -- cool name! The picture you've attached is very intriguing. It comes up pretty small -- I can see the blackbird clearly. Is there a face, or a skull in there? I like your post that you just sent, about how sometimes good things come from bad situations. Maybe your book project was a form of art therapy for you. I did a lot of art therapy when things were very, very bad for me. It took away my ptsd. It was in-depth art therapy, based on Jungian therapy and some other kinds. I'm about ready to check out one or three other art therapists. The two I used to have are not available now. That was almost 20 years ago anyway. But back to your comment about good things happening from bad experiences -- I got pretty seriously into doing art, because of the art therapy. I say "pretty" seriously because I don't do it a lot. At least not now, but at least I have settled down into one medium or one genre - drawing with a few different media. One medium at a time -- either a very fine-tip graphic pen, or an Ebony pencil, or charcoal. I've done art off and on all my life, but mostly it used to be when I had no other creative outlet, and/or when I was majorly depressed. Now I do it when I feel like it. How do I browse to insert one of my art pieces? The picture image in this box only allows a URL.

[Standup2me]

Originally Posted by flowerbells

Dear Standup2me, a lovely, gentle poem. Thank you -- it's heart warming, really it is. Sometimes when I'm walking underneath some very large trees, I feel some sort of spiritual energy -- don't know what to call it -- the soul of the trees maybe - and I just stop and take it all in. Maybe you've experienced it. Or scientifically -- maybe it's all the oxygen there.

I have also felt this. I have felt the souls of the trees dancing around me. I just let it wash over me.

[Standup2me]

Winter is coming
Six months of near darkness
I feed my friends the birds and hear their songs of thanks
Their beauty, in such dreary background, makes me weep for joy
I am blessed

[Moreta]

This is what I did the night before last for my husband's office opening party. He works for the democratic coordinating campaign for north carolina.



This is all the jewelry I made that night too.

[dangerousanimals]

Maybe I can get this to post... I was feeling like I'm not allowed to be too magical. Manic the Unicorn Gets More Meds

Most of my other art is different...

[letsgogh]

Sorry this got away from me! Art has always kind of been my outlet, even before I was diagnosed. It's kind of how I tend to process things. I used to write too, but not so much anymore.

I attached from my portfolio that is online. I'm not sure how to attach from browsing. There is a skull in it. The top of the skull is a nest of bird eggs.

I've never officially done art therapy but I am a big believer in it, I'm glad it is helpful to you