The Bipolar Writer Needs Help… Again

https://www.gofundme.com/rasing-to-upgrade-the-bipolar-writer-blog

This is my GoFundMe under my real name David TC (I wasn’t sure if I could get the funds if I used my Pen Name James Edgar Skye.) Thank you in advance for donating!


So, my goal is $300. The cost to upgrade. If 100 people donate 3 dollars, I can reach my goal quickly (the donation button is below through PayPal.) I am going to try and keep this post going all weekend in hopes that I reach my goal. Please, if you can help it would be amazing, and if you can’t, I understand. I haven’t done one of these in a while, so here it goes!

If you can’t donate please reblog this post or share my GoFundMe link above, it would mean the world to me!

You Can Also Donate Below!

Just Click the Pay with PayPal button!

Always Keep Fighting & Thank You

James

unsplash-logorawpixel

An Awesome Achievement!!!

I wanted to share a special achievement for The Bipolar Writer blog.

I was told by WordPress that I have reached 10,000 plus followers. Wow. I never imagined about a year ago that this blog would get to this point. I started this blog to share my experiences with Bipolar One, and talk about my brand–The Bipolar Writer.

I never imagined that this thing that I started would take off. I figured that after a month things would change to a point where I would get bored. This wasn’t my first blog.

I am amazed every day that I get to wake up and know that my blog is making a difference in the mental health community. To all the contributor writers, thank you. For all that are following, thank you. It has been an honor to be sharing my experiences with you. To many more amazing people finding this blog!

James

unsplash-logoVal Vesa

A Final Goodbye to 2018

My Last Thoughts of 2018

2018 was a fantastic year The Bipolar Writer blog. I can’t believe it was only the first full year.

149,136 views!

I meant to do this post prior to the New Year, but I digress. I want to say thank you, first to the many followers of this blog, and second to the collaborative writers that make this blog amazing. This year would not have happened without all you amazing people. We are all kindred spirits fighting the great battle–ending the mental health stigma.

Here is to 2019! The best year ever!

Always Keep Fighting, and Love Yourself First!

James

unsplash-logoChris Gilbert

She

I come and go as I please.

I always have.

Usually,

I want to be missed.

But not this time,

it’s been pure bipolar bliss;

being a miss.

It isn’t easy being in this world,

only to exist.

With moods that have fits.

Yet I have found my peace

with my inner beast.

Dormant she lie asleep.

Angela Rebecca

I wanna talk about you.

But I don’t.

No one understands that I promised a man

to hold his daughter’s hand.

She is far out in dead man’s land.

A break intended for self-reflection

has resulted in deflection.

Refusing to look in the mirror

or by your side

Where is it Angie

that you hide?

I can’t be your light.

I am the dark part of us.

You are sick.

I am helpless.

My hands tied,

as I watch you slowly commit suicide.

You’ve left my side

Sacrifice your pride.

Your selfish ways punish those who love you.

This isn’t about you anymore,

It’s about them four.

You have to find your way out.

Darkness doesn’t look good on you.

Evil has dulled your Shine.

I hate I have abandon you

but I’ve already been to hell.

And crawled my way out.

This belongs to you.

You have taken my girl from me

but

my girl is breaking for you.

She sees you struggle.

It’s not fair

She’s of age

and aware.

Them too.

They are craving your attention.

And you let them starve.

I will write my boo.

And let her I know

“I love You”

Sometimes souls must separate.

Mine suffers for its mate.

It’s too late.

I am being forced to watch you deteriorate

They say you are past saving,

it’s a waste of time.

Where do you draw the fuck’n line?

You are proving them right.

I have no more energy to fight.

I beg,

seek the light.

The Realness

Language warning

The most difficult aspect of mental illness for me to come to terms with has been its control.

I have been able to categorize life with mental illness as far as my case is concerned.

  • Living with mental illness: days of bliss when you would have to convince me that I have mental illness.
  • Maintaining my mental illness: days of monitoring my feelings and “controlling” them so they do not reach extremes.
  • Mental illness is a part of me: days of empowerment where I share with the world about my recovery from mental illness.
  • Not feeling right: days of aggravation that can lead to anger outburst if not closely monitored. source? never apparent or definable
  • Struggling with mental illness: days where no matter your coping mechanisms, you are shown that while you would like to think you can control your symptoms, you are proved wrong. You have no control whatsoever.
  • Sick: hospitalized

Of all of these days, the worst for me is the struggle. No matter what you do to try and distract yourself from what is going on within you, it makes itself known. You try to implement the coping mechanisms you’ve been taught. Your attention may be elsewhere but guess what?? It will remind you through ways of struggle. Struggle to breathe, struggle to focus, struggle to think, struggle to communicate, struggle to find the will to live. The fucking struggle!

My personal stats for today do not look too good. My mind has once again brought me to my knees reminding me that no matter what I do, it will always be more powerful than me. No amount of counseling or coping skills can change this. Sure it lessens the blow but it doesn’t change the fact that I am basically …. mentally ill.

Have you ever been out of control? Has your mind ever tried to convince you that you are a waste of space? Has your mind knocked on your egos door and ran away laughing? Have you ever been reduced to nothing, by your mind? Have you done everything in your power to ensure days of living with mental illness when in reality you are met with days of struggle?

Life with mental illness ultimately means that you are not in control. You are at the mercy of your molecules, your unbalanced chemistry which has no sympathy for what you had planned for the day, much less how you wanted to feel. Mental illness is real and for those of you who question it, fuck you because today I am struggling.


My life lived with bipolar 1, mild OCD and anxiety

oh, how dare I forget? and a substance abuser!

Today, they all fought for attention

Today’s personal stats:

Mental illness: 10

Me: 0

For All to See

Acceptance is

Rare.

Nothing can compare.

She’s used to them stopping to stare.

Judging with a snare.

Liberating and free,

it is to be her,

they claim.

Not knowing she despies

the fame.

An image to maintain.

On display her character

must remain.

For a moment she hides the pain.

Like a mannequin, she stand still

not revealing her lack of will.

Momentum she can not gain.

A life she can no longer sustain.

A brittle glimpse of courage

ignites her soul to set free.

She speaks of wanting to not be.

Society turn their back,

for all that she lack.

A mind of chaos first experiences peace,

eluding solitude.

She question

“Is this rude?”

Self-care forbade with many

to entertain.

Once again on the platform,

a model suffering in vain.

I Get It

I get it.  I do…

Not everyone is like me and you.

And I get why the doctor’s do like they do.

They can’t possibly allow “sick” people to run about.

It is for our protection.

Our chemical makeup tries to destroy us.

Naturally taking us out of limits and then dropping us without a net.

Of the drugs, I have digested

none quite took me there like mania.

A euphoria we are encouraged to contain.

If not we are labeled insane.

Because not everyone sees the different energy levels on this Earth,

or talks to Angels

or

hears God calling their name,

for that matter.

We do.  Me and you.

We share a connection to this space,

and they will see when we are beyond its grace.

For now though we must be medicated to save face.

Ideas others deem impossible yet they won’t give us a chance,

a bipolar life is about this dance.

It is the discomfort others feel in our presence.

We come off as a force, and they fear those who aren’t afraid to appear.

Are you following me, my dear?

Now take your meds and know it is ok to be you,

but you must be you this way,

our way.

It’ll be okay.

 

Middle Ground

Have you ever stood where it felt like middle ground?

Life continues to go around.

Balance is unknown,

living in the bipolar zone.

In between failure and success,

ceasing to express,

instead, I suppress.

True to alcoholic character,

fleeting in a moment’s stress.

I confess.

Will the chains of failure

break if I stay?

Stay to see a successful day.

Defaults stand in my way.

On middle ground do you choose?

If you win or lose.

Not ever being here I stand confused.

Lost and scared

dare I share?

To others, I compare.

Broken and beaten,

strength I have gained.

But pressure is different to maintain.

These fears I contain.

Trusting one’s self after a life of shame,

rather I continue the pain.

Pain self-inflicted,

highly addictive.

Why can’t I see that it is I that do this to me?

With a broken brain and tormented soul,

middle ground is no place for me.

When left up to me,

I chose the pain and its familiarity.

Can’t I choose just not to be me?

Feelings of Freedom

It’s been a while since I have written here on TBW blog. I haven’t had much of anything to say and nothing educational to share leaving me silent. I can’t help but wonder if anyone noticed. I am not an attention seeker by any means, it is my curiosity that wonders aimlessly. I’m sure I am not the only one who wonders such things.

The content here continues to flow at a steady rate with some profound writers adding their insight. As I peruse around the net I can’t help but notice the influx of mental health focused blogs. That is wonderful news for the mental health community. People are stepping out and speaking up about their experiences with mental illness. We can only go up from here.

Being a part of this mental movement makes me feel included, something I’ve not ever felt. Many of you do not know this but I run two blogs, a personal one and another I am trying to monetize. I didn’t realize how welcoming the mental health community of WordPress was until I ventured out into this other arena. Let’s just say they aren’t as welcoming.

It sounds like I expect to be coddled but I don’t, I only now realize the impact the mental health community has had on me. I allow myself to be vulnerable because y’all seem to accept me for me. I allow myself to be honest and raw because y’all respond with kindness. Most importantly, I am me with this community because I have been embraced.

We are a different breed of human and I am slowly beginning to acknowledge there is no other place I need to be. In other places, I don’t feel free. Instead I feel restricted and monitored, weird and uncomfortable. I want to crawl out of my skin.

That’s the thing. I’ve finally been accepted for having bipolar, OCD, and anxiety. I’ve finally been accepted for being me. That is a great yet foreign feeling. On most days I try my hardest to not feel but being a part of this community has taught me that it is ok to have feelings and more so share those feelings.

That is what brings me here today. Feelings of gratitude for each of you. Regardless of your diagnosis, I hope you too feel free in this space.