I was thinking about writing more poetry because its not an A-typical thing that I would do as it is the weaker area of my writing, but I have my moments. If you want to read more about my life, please consider purchasing my memoir here. It will not disappoint if you want to learn more about my life living as The Bipolar Writer with Bipolar One. In the book I explore even deeper topics than the ones written here on my blog. Here is a poem, which is also a chapter in my book.
It’s 12:15 am, I am in a dark room
my mind racing and
the panic rising out of nowhere.
Shallow and slow,
I can’t catch my breath.
It happens, every night, this night— the next.
Restlessness. A feeling of unease.
“I can’t do this” I think.
A tingling feeling engulfs my hands,
numbness consumes my body.
I pace, take a drink of water—
then begin to pace again.
I must stay inside, “no— I can’t.”
I must go outside, “no— you can’t.”
“Fight this feeling! Please!” A different part says.
“You will never win this fight,” the anxiety answers.
My mind races faster this time, I’m running out of breath.
Helplessness, I am no longer in control of my body.
I overthink. “I am going to die!”
“Please stop! You must fight,” my heart and brain say.
Then again, I over think! And again.
My mind overthinks, “Is this my life?”
I feel as if I am under water trying to catch my breath,
to be the person I was before I started to drown.
Sleep, it would be divine. I reach
for this tiny white pill. It is in my hand.
God, I want to sleep
so much to do tomorrow.
The weight of my school obligations crushing me.
Finally, in control— again.
Anxiety, why do you control me so?
It’s over for now, but
tomorrow is another day.
Another 12:15 am.
Always Keep Fighting
You can visit the author site of James Edgar Skye here.
Purchase The Bipolar Writer: A Memoir here.
Become a Patron of James Edgar Skye and be a part of his writing here: Become a Patron! You can get this amazing cup at a certain tier!