A Brief Journey through Type 2 Bipolar

A memoir in verse.

Okay, I know it’s a long one, but this is my life story, in fact, a short version of it. It’s written in Onegin stanza �" so it even rhymes! Will be infinitely grateful if you read to the end.

 

Ern.

 

A Brief Journey through Type 2 Bipolar 

 

I.

The doctor called me into the office

And I took, uneasily, a seat on the sofa.

What sounded like a broken promise

Or the uncovering of some suppressed trauma:

You have a condition...

And he spoke with such erudition

That I lacked the ability to argue, 

Although I disagreed. Damn you,

And your diagnosis, or so I wanted to say

But instead I sat meekly, embarrassed

Ill-feelings towards psychiatry amassed

Then soon deflated, leaving only dismay.

I knew that he was right

From the truth, no fight, no flight.

I was carried over to the clinic

By Stephanie’s gentle, guiding hand

I knew myself, and all my ticks

But something I still didn’t understand�"  

Something unhidden yet unseen

As if locked away inside a dream,

Locked in a box inside my room

Dark as the darkside of the moon,

Made clear now through some shamanism

Type 2 bipolar: the name of the demon. 

My shoulders twitched, thoughts sour as lemon,

It was only the beginning of the exorcism.

A new life that day for me began,

And I didn’t have so much as a plan.

II.

While thinking it over, it made some sense

This label I had been given

Some of my days felt so intense

I’ve made some questionable decisions

Enlivened by a grand idea

I faced the world without fear

On a great adventure, I’ll be embarking

I told everyone and I couldn’t stop laughing 

Then the next day, it all came unwinding

Creeping over my skin, a numbness

Begging my friends for forgiveness

Desperately looking around for hope, not finding…

These habits are in fact symptoms

According to the scientific wisdom 

Medication and therapy are recommended

To handle such an intractable brain

So on chemical clutches I now depended

To get me off of this crazy train.

So many names, so many faces

Off I was sent to all these places�"

Psychiatrists, clinics, pharmacies,

Therapists, social workers, GPs

Like an unfinished machine on an assembly line

A cog in here, a screw goes there

All these mechanics providing me care

To be shot back out into the blinding sunshine:

One functional human male

Handle with care, it is frail

III.

When I told my friends, they acted surprised

And promptly asked if I was O.K.

After the first time, though, they must’ve surmised 

That I was indeed fine, on my way

To someplace they called Recovery.

They blushed faint red upon discovery

You can’t cure bipolar disorder;

While a fixed routine can create some structure

It’s an on-going, never-ending process.

Messages, daily, then came streaming

Always asking how I was feeling

‘I’m on top of things’ I did profess

Even if that was half-lying

But half-truthfully, I was trying.

Months like this, but over time

Their messages and concerns dissolved.

‘A mental illness, a friend of mine

He had it, and it quickly resolved.’

They might’ve said something like that

Without really knowing where I was at,

They’d fulfilled their duty as a friend

Only, bipolarity has no end. 

For long stretches, I could be stable, then 

In summer, I was ready to rule the world

With a million thoughts my mind did whirl

This manic energy subsides, when? 

In winter. A depressive episode came ‘round
I did not dare to make a sound.

This new relationship with my half-broken brain

Dealing with its rapid changes of mood

Thoughts and emotions I couldn’t contain 

Just get through the days, bad and good.

Sweet love of mine, hold me close

Should I talk about it? Increase my dose?

Decisions are made then soon unmade 

Gloomy days, they come and they fade.

Stephanie, I’m at the end of my wits,

I want to scream, and cry, and weep

I still haven’t caught up on my sleep

My brain doesn’t understand me one bit;

A wild thing, unhinged

Manic-depression has left me wringed.

Stephanie has problems of her own

She got diagnosed with OCD

And has other issues, to me, unknown

‘Cause she’s still not fully trusting me.

We sit and talk on quiet nights

Asking each other if they’re alright

And drinking both our sorrows away

In silent prayer for another day.

Us, the broken ones, trying to exist

For all our symptoms, we truly love

And sing and laugh to the sky above 

As we keep on running from that mist.

Those of you who are mended things,

The heavenly choir sings.

IV.

Olanzapine, olanzapine

So I don’t go out and make a scene

Lithium, at a minimum 

Keeps me in a state of delirium

It tastes of blood and cinnamon

My mood kept at equilibrium 

Seroquel, do you hear that bell?

As we’re dancing our way down to hell?

Lexapro, you may know

Is here so I don’t go 

And do you know what.

Side-effects include a lot of things

Nothing compared to the benefit it brings

Groggy (druggy?) but I’m fine

Asleep by quarter to nine.

But I’m stable. So there’s that. 

V.

I spent the next years working

At a semi-respectable company

While on the job, I heard it breathing

Those demons still inside of me

Knowledge, that in a world so cruel

I can think and act clear and cool

Bipolar is my biology

But that doesn’t make it all of me

What is broken can be fixed �" 

Thoughts like thunder and lightning

Control that imagination frightening 

�"  It just takes a couple of tricks.

For search and you shall surely find

Ways to quiet an unquiet mind.

Just as sure as the Earth will turn 

For you, things will get easier.

Scars are mistakes, healing is earned

Makes the heart all the more prettier.

As the march of time tugs you away

From your lowest, darkest, dreariest days

There’s a place for regretting

And there’s the soothing of forgetting;

All that is beautiful will in time reawaken

With the daily use of medication

And being active during your therapy sessions.

You will not lament the time it’s taken

It’s life, all of it a blessing;

Keep going. You are progressing.

VI.

I traveled to London and Berlin

Writing poems along the way.

Every new city I found myself in

A new opportunity to seize the day.

Depression, here too, followed me

I sighed, saying, ‘let it be...’

How dare these tangled emotions

Chase me across the oceans

But you cannot escape your own shadow;

Delusions of grandeur, called hypomania

The cessation of your passions: anhedonia 

And the ‘I thought I dealt with this long ago’

�" Oh, the tenacity of evil

We mere mortals are so feeble.

That’s how it is, we end at the start

It once was called ‘circular madness.’

So I can stand before a work art 

Feeling nothing inside, only emptiness

Such is life having a mood disorder

Today, just another hill to get over

Museuminsel, marvelous!

Yet inside my skin, I’m swimming in sadness

Just like that time down on Baker’s street

It’s a mystery of mysteries 

How these unpredictable waves of energies 

Come and go. Who knows which ones today I’ll meet?

For now, just rest in bed

�" And don’t forget your meds!

VII.

Then I made a move up to Tokyo

Shortly after my graduation

Where my home is, I do not know

And my future, full of trepidation.

Fold me a thousand paper cranes

My notebooks covered in coffee stains

Wild, wild thoughts fill my pages

One step at a time, take it in stages

For my brain is a companion, not an enemy.

Caution and hesitation, those are required

Lest I hurt the ones I admire  

And to think constantly, ‘what’s best for me?’

But it’s nothing to be ashamed about

Over time I -�" mostly �" figured it out 

VIII.

These reflections on having bipolar

And the many lives that I got to live

When the day comes, when it’s all over

Nothing no God can give

Would I trade for this half-broken brain of mine.

It gets dark here, but it does shine

With an infinite amount of dreaming 

With the fire of the sun, I’m beaming

And the ice I’ll embrace with all my might.

Do I dare to count my string of heartbreaks? 

Or make a long list of all my mistakes?

No. Just go gently into that good night

Saying farewell to my half-broken brain

Telling it: I’d do it all again. 

 

 

2022.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading 'til the end. This work is a memoir but of course I took some creative licenses. I hope this allowed everyone to get to know me a bit better. I keep each of you in my hearts, I've really enjoyed reading your works and will continue to do so.

Ern.

Reviews

[maya_online]

Took me a minute, but I finished it and from the beginning to the end was amazing. You starting with your diagnosis and continuing not through daily life, but almost through your minds lens, how people perceive you before and after, how life changed for you, but then shifting to a glimmer of hope, that there was "Nothing no God can give would I trade for this half-broken brain of mine". Being able to not only accept that this was your diagnosis, but make sense of it and continue to live on knowing so only shows how strong I already know you are, excellent work, Ern, glad I took my time to read it.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thanks for taking the time to stp by. i might record this an repost it, maybe it'll get more clicks. these years, here conensed in a few verses, were wild. i should write a sequel because things did not settle down lol.

[John the Baptist]

I worked in the mental health field for 27 years and knew many people with bipolar disorder. Only those who can recognize the symptoms early can deal with it. When either of the phases gets going fully, it's hospital time.

[andrew mitchell]

Hats off to you for adapting to your condition and making the best out of this daily situation, no mean feat. I was married to a girl who was bipolar which I found difficult to combat with her outbursts, we eventually broke up, she found someone else and I was relieved to be set free. They are still together after 27 years.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

i dragged my loved ones through the coal, although i didn't write about that part! one day, maybe i will write an open apology letter to them. anyway, thanks for reading this biographic piece. and i hope to see you again.

[Coyote Poetry]

Powerful and worthwhile story told. Ernest. Here in the USA. Somehow all the children have OCD.
"Or make a long list of all my mistakes?
No. Just go gently into that good night
Saying farewell to my half-broken brain
Telling it: I’d do it all again. "
The above lines. Is all we can do. When I was a young man. I had a anger issue. The Army and meditation fixed. I use to run a lot and now. I walk a lot. Thank you for sharing the story. Had feel of real life and real struggle.
Coyote

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

i'm glad meditation helped you, it certainly helped me as well. and yes, while not any brain-holding-being has it easy, i hope we can all go into that goodnight having loved the time we got to spend with it. regards,
Ern.

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree Ernest and I have enjoyed your work.

[carl]

I usually shy away from very long poems, partially b/c I'm a very slow reader, but because you asked I read your poem. I have never known someone with bipolar so it was a very revealing exposure for me. I think you give an excellent description of the chaos and the joys you experience and I think it would be incredibly beneficial for others who also experience the situation in which you find yourself. The manner of your work is very creative and I think comes across much as a song or hymn for your life - Well done - carl

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thanks Carl. i appreciate you taking the time with this piece. thank you again. and you are lucky to have never come across one of us!!! that's only half a joke, ahaha. but if in future you do, know that they had struggles hard to describe. i tried to describe it here, in my own way, but there's a lot more to it and if i ever write about the condition again, please feel free to read and learn as you go.

[I Shred This Cabbage]

There is real light in here, my friend. And a real sense of yourself and of your journey, which I’m sure and know will have posed you real difficulties and challenges. I can focus on the positives and can say you have a true poetic voice and write really well. With a ‘half-broken brain’ comes the other half. Good work

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thank you. i'm still struggling but i'm grateful for every day.

[I Shred This Cabbage]

Much peace to you, my friend.

[Eilis]

Hi, Ern. This poetic memoir is a grace and strong representation of what it is like to suffer then discover then work toward recovery. I was diagnosed with complex PTSD a few years ago and it was like I was finally able to understand myself. I’d suffered for forty years with things I didn’t understand and felt so alienated, sick, and confused for much of my life. To learn that I was experiencing symptoms rather than just not being a strong enough or good enough person helped me to see life in a whole new way. I see that in your story as well in some ways.

You touch on how others see and respond to those suffering from invisible illnesses and I think that’s so important here. Support is key to health, recovery, growth and it can be difficult for those who haven’t experienced mental illness to understand or be sympathetic as we go through the highs and lows. Your story offers some great insights in that regard.

I don’t want to get too wordy with my review, so I’ll try to wrap things up. I connected to that image of the paper cranes as my daughter made me a flock of them when I was having a particularly low period. We have them hanging from the ceiling and they are a reminder to me when I need it of hope and connection. Two things that are so important in the fight to move forward. I think your poem shows that—the hope and connection—and offers an important window into an invisible illness. Thanks for sharing.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

you can never be too wordy wit me, i love reading comments! thank you for your praise, and thank you for sharing a little bit about yourself. hope to hear from you again.

[Thomas W Case]

You've been on quite the journey. Be blessed, my friend. Powerful writing.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thanks Thomas!

[Pete]

quite a spun tale. i too have bipolar type 2 related to epilepsy on my father's side of the family and take lamotragine for it. on the plus side it gives you depth of writing and insight that most don't possess.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

it's been called 'touched by fire.' and like fire, it can be useful but also dangerous. stay safe friend.

[Jeyanthi]

A chemical change in brain can cause such things... it will be very difficult if our atuo nevers too gets affected... glad that medication helped you understand what's going inside us... you written how it affects you and your daily life in brief but one can understand it's more than that " the fight with our demons, we doesn't know how it comes or how it goes, but it leave in a sate of numb"... the illusions and images in our brain, we try to identify each insignificant thing and trying to reason out... the comparison which we do with each happenings next to next just hover us and will not leave at all..
I'm really happy that you are trusting yourself and this life is worthy to live on...

The writings is exclusively, I don't know how you written so many things without a dab of hopeless but poetically express the overwhelming of things you underwent... kudos to you...
Do write when heart weeps or smiles bright...

[Jeyanthi]

I want to comment back.. when I come...
Hope you are having nice days ahead.. 🙂

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thank you very much. i'm touched by this comment and your ongoing support. i'm happy you got to know me a little bit and had fun reading this verse.

[Jeyanthi]

As much we try ... we can... :)
Take medication with doctor concerns when you are feeling so edgy... it's good thing to us and our loved ones too...
I'm glad you are a warrior... Ern... especially you stated the paper cranes with coffee stains says you are having lot of sleepless nights.. hope you will soon surround with calming persona and there is guiding light within yourself.. though we try to seek answers, like a loop it starts at first...
;) :) your comments brighten most of the writer's work here..

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

I will do! thank you for your support, it really gives me strength.

[Ken Simm.]

Been there, done that, bought the tee. But could never be as erudite as this about my life long condition. Although there have been times when the dog has nearly got me. This has all the things such a delicate biography of our condition should have. Extraordinary writing.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thank you Ken. the dog is constantly after me as well, but i throw it a ball. i hope you are doing well and living life to the fullest.

[Aarti Sriram]

It is a brave writing dear @ Ern.
I was interested in reading till the end. You have successfully blended information so poetically. It is a richly written and resourceful for any of us needing insight into life with disorders.

From symptoms to daily life struggles and even medicines you have rhymed each.
The construct is strong and clearly explanatory.

I sometimes think that many of us may not have been clinically diagnosed but surely might be carriers of so many of the above stated symptoms.
We faulter in our behavior, decision making, are sickly with unhealthy habits and more. But have been able to excuse ourselves from being caught under any radar .."Unpredictable waves of energies, broken brain, therapy ... powerful references and yes you rightly say its nothing to be ashmaed of and you get better with some medicines and little care and with lots of support and love.
I am fortunate that some godly grace has so kindly shielded all my shortcomings thus far..
My writing is also handicapped with clutches of long sentences so trying to keep my review from growing longer...but each line of your poem is praise worthy..
Take good care and hopes and prayers to live comfortably with family.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thanks Aarti. i really appreciate you reading this and writing a thoughtful review. it's true many go undiagnosed, in fact i wasn't until i was 23 -- before then, there were many clear signs. medication isn't the answer to everything, but it can be a clutch. more important than that are a loving family and forgiving friends.