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A Portrait Of Mental Illness

This is the picture that I want to display to the world, happy, creative, intelligent...A facade, a dream of what I used to be.

This is the picture that I want to display to the world, happy, creative, intelligent...A facade, a dream of what I used to be.

Wondering what to do. What to write. What comments did I answer. What's left to do???

Wondering what to do. What to write. What comments did I answer. What's left to do???

Bipolar Generally

These past few months have been hell to say the least, distracting to say the most. I have written about 25 hubs by hand in little spiral notebooks, that are now scattered around my house in various places, some that I don't even remember. I really meant to type them on Hub Pages but somewhere amidst the chaos that has been my life they got lost, like I sometimes do... or at least my mind does. My mind will go 90 miles an hour, creating, seeking out, and my body will run right along beside it trying to meet its excessive demands for productivity. Usually after 3 or 4 days of not sleeping and finally worn out physically, I fall onto the bed exhausted. I need rest but my mind won't keeps going over and over, trying to figure out what I've done, what I need to do and replaying the days, hours, and minutes like a bad movie in my head. Though the creativity is at its highest during these manic episodes, cleaning up the messes you have made is the hardest part. Other than trying to remember what exactly the messes are. These episodes can come and go within hours of each other or they can last for days. they can just happen suddenly or be triggered by stress and the feeling of being overwhelmed. These past two months mine have been due to an unusual amount of stress. I have constant demands on my time, the usual like being a wife, mommy, lover and housekeeper all at once. I know we all share these things, women and men... but for the person with bipolar disorder, they can be tremendously burdening.

I am angry, I snap at my partner and my friends and family, yet I don't know why I am angry. I cry uncontrollably. Yet I don't know why I am unhappy. I stay in my room for weeks at a time, paralyzed by my own thoughts and fears. But I don't know what it is I am afraid of. I dyed my blonde hair brown, changed my blue eyes to brown with contacts...went on a crash diet to lose weight. Almost like I am trying to reach inside me and find myself only I don't know who I am. In this stage the only person who exists in our world is us and our needs. Many times in this stage we can be the extreme, we are the life of the party and the center of attention. This often results in having to make amends or apologize for outrageous behavior. Embarrassment and shame are often our companions after the "up, up and away" part has passed".

Bipolar Personally

For the past two months I haven't written much, except as I said, the articles I wrote out in the spiral notebooks that I am now trying to find. The funniest thing is I remember to check my hub score every morning, if it is up. I am up, if it has dropped even a point I am down also. I t is almost like it is a crucial part of my identity. One I can identify with. To me my writing is a kind of therapy, one where I can be whoever i happen to be at the time. I can be alone and express pain, joy, or the emptiness that often fills my life at times. I can say what I want to say without judgement, or fear of someone being offended. i can cry out in pain with a poem, I can share happiness in a love story, or I can be the ardent political activist I am with the articles on the criminal justice system, politics, or any range of things that come into my mind and are put into words and feelings by my keyboard.

The feeling of thinking and creativity is amazing.. the response in the comments a major lift if in the throes of depression. The depression is like a heavy dark curtain, blacker than the sea in the mist of a storm... at times I am unable to tear through it. The comments, the best wishes and just knowing someone is there, even if i can't see you is a comfort. Sometimes it may take me awhile to answer and at times I may forget. Sometimes my mind wont cooperate and I write what I mean to say but I always read them everyone. I don't know what caused this last episode. No one really knows what sets it off. That is the scary and the mystery of this illness. It can take a person and either give them life through the mania or literally drain the life out of them through the depression.

My writing is very important to me. It is the only thing I feel I have left after the storm that tears through my mind. I have always been better at writing than at speaking in words and this is like a home for me. When I am down as now, my words stay alive, my tears flow freely, and though I am isolated, I never feel alone. I know someone is there listening, watching and perhaps praying.

If I had the choice, would I choose to have this illness that fuels my senses and creativity, yet wreaks so much havoc in my life? I'm not sure, but in my heart I like to think I would. I always dreamed of being a journalist, but in the end...I feel I got blessed with the best part of the cards that life has dealt me. Though I will never become rich this way, I have many friends and sometimes riches can't be calculated in dollars.

God Bless.


juliancreative from cape cod ,massachuttes on January 13, 2011:

very deep article with informative of a understanding of the illness and takes courage to share it with all of us.thank you.i hope to read more articles from you.i hope we can become freinds.truly julian creative/

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pmccray on September 11, 2010:

I to am stressed and haven't been up to writing as in the past. But we both have to carry on in our own way. I am forcing myself back to hubpages, because writing is my passion and therapy. Hang in there try and take sometime just for yourself, it seems you're burning the candle at both ends. See if you can eek out sometime for yourself, no husbands, lovers or children. Even if it is a day or just a couple of hours. Make it me time without any disruptions. Peace to you my friend.

christalluna1124 (author) from Dallas Texas on August 26, 2010:

Shona, Exploring and Fucsia,

It is hard to understand this illness unless you have it or have a loved one with it. Even the doctors who treat us say "I know how you feel" but in all reality they have no idea. Exploring I have had four suicide attempts and it crosses my mind often in these episodes. I had dreams once but they were taken away. Now all I have left is the ability to let others know that there is light at the end of the tunnel if they will hold on. These past months have been very hard. my baby sister, 34, was diagnosed with 3rd stage throat cancer and the only hope we have left is our faith in God. I have lost 8 family members in 10 months, I am devastated. Being able to share with you and others is the only release i have since in this state I prefer to be alone. thank you so much for your time and company.

warmest regards,


fucsia on August 26, 2010:

I do not know how you can feel, but I had some moments down ( without a rational reason ) and some up. Now I feel serene. I enjoy reading your pages, your writing is sliding and creative

Ruby Jean Richert from Southern Illinois on August 26, 2010:

You are such a gifted writer. I wish with all my heart that a cure can be found for Bipolar, as i told you before, i had one sister and a niece with this horrible disease. My sister is gone but my niece still suffers, she like you , has her highs and lows, right now she is good.God Bless You

Shona Venter from South Africa on August 26, 2010:

Well written. I think a lot of people out there feel precisely the same as you do, but they are too afraid to admit it.

Voted up :-)

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