Yesterday, on the extremely long drive to work (roughly 30 miles one way) as I often do, I let my mind wonder about. It usually comes back with some great topic to scribble about, a line or two to start a poem, or a to-do list if nothing else. I watched the shades of pink and pale blue intermingle across the sky as daylight started to take over and it reminded me of my Bipolar. It's kind of like that. I've never hid it. I don't out and out advertise it but I don't hide. It's part of me. Part of who I am. Back to where I started. Pinks and Blues. Most of the world that sees me, sees the Pinks. The smiles. The Sunshine. The Bright, happy girl. And for the most part, at this time in my life, it isn't all fake. In the past, sure, it had to be a front. At times now it still has to be forced. However, for the most part I'm becoming happy with who I am. I've excepted the many flaws I have and have actually accepted some of them as strengths more so than flaws. At work, at church, even among my friends, I'm the Pink one. The Blues? I'm still there too. I'll always be there. Much like the morning sky, you can't separate the two. There was a time in my life when I wanted to. Desperately, I wanted to separate them. I wanted to paint over, erase, ignore the fine lines of the Blue bleeding over into the Pink. I see now though that the Blue, next to the Pink, makes it POP as they say. The Blue enhances the Pink. Makes the truly Pink moments brighter.
I even miss the Blues at times. Some of my best works have come in deep dark Blues. That's when the most creative moments come. The Muses even come and stay. I have a better appreciation for them now. I want to master the ability to control the moments...to be able to dive into the Blue shades and dig out the bits that make the words and moments flow so naturally but be able to return when I want to. That would be amazing. But to control such a thing would be wrong. It wouldn't be organic and that is the truly great thing about the color spectrum between the Pinks and the Blues. The shades in between make life worth living.
Funny thing about the Pinks and the Blues, sometimes they contect in incidental moments and you don't know until much later. This lovely moment happened yesterday morning around 7 am. I got home yesterday close to 6ish. There was one of those lovely manila envelopes waiting for me on the table. I love those padded packages. It means I've received a book to review. There's always something wonderful waiting inside (sometimes not so wonderful but that's another story). It was a book sent for me to read and review: A Hidden Madness By James T.R. Jones
"A Hidden Madness tells the story of an accomplished individual who has reached the pinnacle of his profession despite suffering for over thirty years from the severe mental illness bipolar disorder. He has done so mostly in silence because of fear of stigma. Extreme childhood bullying helped cause his condition, which has seen him hospitalized five times in psychiatric facilities for periods as long as six months. It is an eye-opening voyage through the little-understood realm of severe mental illness featuring its powerful medications, periodic hospitalizations, often rocky relationships, and light as well as dark moments. The story offers both real hope for those afflicted by serious mental illness and deep insight into their many symptoms, numerous drugs, periodic crises, and potential triumphs. It shows that by being compliant with a medical regimen of therapy and medication, getting help and support from others with the same illness, benefitting from a loving family, discovering coping mechanisms to get through every day, having caring and understanding friends, and being too stubborn to let a disease ruin his life one can enjoy a successful and fulfilling professional and personal life".~ Amazon blurb
I remember when my mother and father were first told that I was, as they liked to call it back then, a Manic-Depressive. (Whoever came up with the term Bipolar has my eternal gratitude. It fits so much better. It is like living in two worlds at times.) The doctors actually instructed my mother to put locks on the cutlery drawers and had her afraid of me. In general, most Bipolars are content with self hate...we don't attack (in general). I am blessed that I have several things going for me. I am in the generation where we sought help, I have an amazing support system (parents who wanted to know & help and children who I've never hid it from), I had the opportunities to educated myself, and of course, I am not a severe case. Each person's is different. I can function and most of the world has no idea that I'm considered mental ill. I am so excited to get to read Pro. Jones book. To get a glimpse into the life of someone who has Bipolar and has, in the eyes of the world, become a success, is a victory of sorts. Many people don't even realize that many of us with Bipolar are intelligent, crafty, creative individuals, and an asset to the rest of the world. It is such a huge leap from the days when I was first diagnosed.
I'm also excited that Pro. Jones teaches in the state I now call home. Somehow, that makes it feel more personal. I don't know. I'm crazy after all. There's a fine line there. So now I'm off to catch some moments of peaceful reading before the world starts buzzing again.
4 comments:
It's good to hear you've recieved help. Not everyone is so fortunate. I was raised by a Bi-polar mother. She never got help and at 60 something she's totally out of control but what is a daughter supposed to do?
Shelly, That is so true. There's still way too much stigma associated with it for people to get help. But even more, when a person is bipolar it isn't always easy to see. I'm sorry you had to go through that and still have to watch it happen. I've tried very hard to be open and honest with my kids about it (they're all teens or young adults now) but I always made sure they had the opportunity to say "Hey mom you need your meds checked or Hey mom you're a on your manic cycle and you're running everyone over" without lashing out. It's incredibly hard but like I said I was blessed to have a mom who recognized that no one in our family ever got help before and she didn't want me to struggle like other family members. Times have changed and are still changing. But it's still hard on those around us that have to live with us as much as it is hard for us who are stuck in here with the big Bipolar monster.
Not all people have the privilege to get help from bipolar disorder. Only a few can have this privilege. When we talk about 10-20 years ago it seems that the development of treatment isn’t that widely spread unlike today.
>>>the color spectrum between the Pinks and the Blues. The shades in between make life worth living. <<<
Amen! one of the (many) things i find frustrating about life the diagnosed is the tendency to focus on the extremes inherent in bipolar living to the exclusion of all those shades in between...
... because that's where most of our lives are lived most of the time. it's here where other aspects of bipolarity - in my experience, sensitivities to sound and light and to perceive connections between things - make for a highly nuanced experience of life... sad, silly, and glowing with wonder...
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