![]() Type IA Poem by furticus![]() exploring presenting bi-polar disorder![]() Type I -“furticus”
One minute, one month I’m fine. One night, one week I’m on top of the world. The next day I can’t get up, my alarm reminding me another nine minutes has passed. Rapid cycling without a bike lane.
The Front End manager asks me if I have any medical problems they needed to know about. I am pausing too long. He starts wiggling his pen between his fingers, then he speaks, “You know like a bad back.” My meds may make me a zombie. I may speak really fast and can’t keep still. I decide to tell him now, just in case. I don’t want him to think I am doing drugs. But I am on drugs. “I have bipolar disorder.” The pen stops. “You’re not gonna, like, freak out in the middle of the store or something?” I pause too long again. “Oh no.” I decide to lie. “That wouldn’t happen.” The pen starts up again. “I don’t think we’ll put that down.”
Spin cycle. The timer goes off and doesn’t stop ‘til somebody opens the door and throws in some Lithium, resets the timer and turns the dial to delicate. © 2014 furticusAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on April 14, 2014 Last Updated on April 14, 2014 Tags: mental illness, bipolar disorder, depression, mania, lithium, mood |