crash

It's hard to describe the world of bipolar disorder.

Yesterday was great. I felt like I was the smartest person on the planet, like I could solve international dilemmas, like I was worth a million bucks.

That's one side of bipolar.

Tonight I feel like a pile of animal waste. Yes I'm going to school but why? Yes, I'm getting good marks but what for? Yes, I'm trying to make a future for myself but what's the point?

Life is only that you are there, you exist, you die.

And sometimes I get tired of it.

This is not saying that I want to die. Normally, I am quite engaged with life and don't want to even think of leaving that behind.

But there is this insidious beast in my chemistry called bipolar disorder that can just as easily have me queen of the world as it can have me lower than shit.

It's been building up over the past few days. First I noticed that things just weren't exciting any more. Then, I started feeling like I was just trying to get through the day. The days stretched longer and longer. And now I'm getting peppered with moments that just make me wonder why. What's the point? How am I going to get through this?

But I'm not at the end, my friends, no. Not yet. If this pattern doesn't stop soon I'll start realizing how hopeless things are. How tired I am of what has been and how I'm not sure I can face what has yet to come.

The end comes when I start thinking about it being over. When I feel like I'm through.

I don't want another of those moments.

I feel like it's a personal failing. But it's not a failing, really. It's not me. It's the beast that controls my brain chemistry. I have a disesase. It's called Bipolar Disorder.

I wanted to stay off medication. I wanted to stay out of the hospital. I may only get to keep one of those. I may have to once again give into medication.

But it's not the end. Bipolar will never get me completely. It can knock me down, drag me through the mud, take my dreams, suck away all the happy, make me feel like I can't just take one more step,

But it will never have me.

It will never own me.

I might wind up in the hospital again, if it encroaches too far. I might wind up on 15-minute watches by nurses.

But it will never own me.

I have family.

No matter how far the bipolar disorder encroaches, no matter what psychosis tries to take me, I have family.

And they care.

So there's the answer to the whole "should I keep going" debate. The answer is a wholehearted yes.

Because no one is expected to get through all of this alone.