Coming Back…

Or, Should it say “coming around”?  It is somewhere near 3 am. I have not been sleeping much at night, and I frolic all over the house, in my manic splendor. I thing the Bipolar High may be easing, just a smidgin’, because I did not clean the floor today, nor did I pull weeds, or do laundry. Or feel like the roof was going to cave in if I didn’t do-every-thing-exactly-right!

Going thru these changes is most difficult when you don’t recognize that you are now in the new phase, be it high, or low. When I flip, my disease causes me the most pain during this period. Is it denial? Do I want to stay in the “high” phase?

Well, sometimes I do, until I am so crushed, so drained from lack of sleep and endless movement that I want life to end, not just the phase. While that may seem overly dramatic, it is truly how far away from reality this can take a person. Reality is that I will come out of the high, and face the crushing low, and that I will wallow in a darkthings need to end again, depending on how black it gets.

I never posted this when I wrote it, but it will help to explain my absence here for days on end!!!

Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...