pacing back in forth in a panic
I haven’t slept in 3 days I must be manic.
I can’t tell anyone because they’d go frantic,
I know they try but they don’t understand it. they try to put me on meds. but I don’t like that version of me I’d rather be dead. so I’ll just write to cope instead. my bodies so tired but my brains on fire. I do the opposite of what I think and feel. who am I? I don’t know what’s real. The paranoia makes me push people away. leave me alone I’ll deal with you another day. but I love the creativity from this illness I take the pain and fear and create it into art.like Vincent Van Gogh. If I didn’t have that who would I be I don’t wanna know. bipolar disorder puts my life out of order. but I won’t let it define me. I’ve put the past behind me. they see bipolar when they look at me. why can’t they just see me?