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.

[Amy R]

All I can say is I got to know you more in-depth and that you are very strong. You are strong enough to deal with all of this and still be positive at some point and I am proud of you for that.
Thanks for sharing your journey with us.... Hope it keeps getting better even though there's no cure and you be happier and less stress/sad etc.

-Amy

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thanks Amy. i always deeply appreciate your comments. i don't know if i'm strong, but i got stronger through all this because i had to!

[Amy R]

I know you're strong, your words says it even if we have rocky paths, we all do.
YOU'RE WELCOME.

[Arundass TP]

A change in brain waves, or chemicals effect behavior.nicely written poem.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

how feeble man is. a small change in hormonal dose and they are a different person..