Can Bipolar move the earth?

If the earth moved even a billionth of a centimeter I would feel it. I am that sensitive and tuned in right now. More accurately I’m in overdrive. Bustling and bumbling through my day like I’m the man about town with some serious shit to tackle.  Deadlines are obliterated. Paperwork stacked and restocked. Calendar bursting w meetings and agendas I know nothing about.  However, the start of my day is a wrestling match as I fight myself to get out of bed. I cry into the mirror as I curse my face, my hair, my being. Then I gather my things and skip to my car. Off to work I go.  On the drive, tears stream. The overwhelm of existence and the expectation I participate in life hit me like a rolling thunder.  The mind races as if to catch a tornado ravaging through towns. At the stop light I am forced to take a pause. Take a moment. Take stock.  A few days this week I have contemplated running right through that red light and straight to the bridge that taunts me. The bridge that promises me free fall into the abyss. No more wrestling. No more crying. No more desperate need to show I am normal and do not harbor a mental illness.  The light turns green. I turn left towards my office.  I park wiping confused and tired tears from my eyes.  This inner battle can’t be seen. My freshly pressed blouse and slacks wreak of secrets and botched professionalism. Yesterday I couldn’t utter the word bipolar to my officemate. Instead I used the term chronic illness. I have never used that terminology before in reference to myself. There are huge gaps in my memory due to me beating out “sick” for months at a time coupled with the usual memory issues of bipolar disorder.  The gaps filled the room as she and I were cleaning out cabinets for our impending move. She is new and  looking to me for guidance on various documents. My anxiety and frustration rose at the same time.  My ego being poked. I finally looked at her and briefly explained my gaps.  Soon after, I slammed my computer shut, grabbed my stuff and scurried away. Gave no notice to anyone I was leaving.  Once again in my car at that red light.  The bridge less than 15 minutes away.  I turned in that direction.  But, you know what there are probably 7-8 red lights down that path.  One of those intersections leads me to my mental health clinic.  I checked in the for he afternoon and freshened up on some DBT skills as well as attended a process group.  There are so many ways I can go w my bipolar and lots of times I’m just spinning.  Today. Somehow, I got myself where I really needed to be.

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