Dear friends and other interesting creatures,

It is a well known fact,  and the punchline of many jokes and silly conversations behind my back that I do have bipolar disorder. I feel pity for ignorance.

I was diagnosed at 14 with manic depression and over the years the medical feternity came up with a new word to scare the crap out of people. Bipolar! Bring the holy water!

I want the stigma removed and by being open about it,  I know from the emails I receive, that it helps others come to terms with mental illness.  Climbing and admitting there is a mountain obscuring your positive view, is brave and courageous,  not mental asylum potential.

Nobody looks the least bit shocked or horrified when I say I am also diagnosed with Ankolysing Spondylitis and Fibromyalgia. 

It seems your bones fusing and your soft tissue cells attacking each other is just dandy…. Just please don’t add mental,  then you are kinda whack job material and people fear what they don’t understand.

This has been a difficult bipolar riding on my unicorn kinda week.  I take my meds religiously but it is no guarantee for a free ride.  Oh hell no! That would be way tooooo easy.

I have rapidly cycled this week.  Quick ups and downs. 

The ups are unbelievable.  Your brain is 100% in overdrive and your thoughts are clear,  quick to the point and you kick productivity in overdrive.  You are bullet proof.  It is my favourite stage as it is with most bipolar patients. Powerful. It is to be alive with all your senses firing on all cylinders.

The downs are dark and you get there fast.  Stay in bed,  head under duvet kinda dark. Not eating.  Not talking.  Silent.  Sometimes tearful,  other times howling at the moon crying or plainly feeling numb to the world at large.  It is horrible.  Yet to meet one of my kind who likes this phase,  however if you chanel that pain,  by far the most creative.  You write deeply.  Real. You reach people. Those that draw produces unbelievable pieces of art.  Music is raw.  Acoustic.  Deep.  Breathtaking.

It is documented that many creative creatures are bipolar.  I am drawn to the arts like the smell of fresh kitka to a Jew on Fridays (that includes me).  I become alive and the bravery,  vulnerability and generous giving of a performer fills me like a sponge.  I cry at many performances for it touches an open raw wound. It is a beautiful mind.

My husband,  @SirNoid (Who comes from the school of thought that you must just decide to feel better and you are better.  Positive thoughts I believe in…. but good luck with curing cancer! ) has been incredibly supportive  during this past week,  not knowing who the hell he is going to wake up to tomorrow.  🙂  Hey  nothing like a bit of unpredictability in a marriage.

Bipolar is treatable to a large extend and can be managed.  Being suicidal is not like riding a unicorn at all. Get help brave heart.

I wish you enough wildflowers,
Wenchy