#bipolardisorder
Falling into the trenches, fighting for my life, fast paced breathing coming from my chest, Words engulf me like the boogeyman, Infiltrating my thoughts and dreams torturing me with his sickly sweet speech
Oh how he controls me, I struggle in his grasp, trying to squeeze the last of my energy out fighting him, I cannot escape his grasp
My thoughts disappear; my breath slows down, Golden light shines down on my face like an angelic beacon,
Finally peace
In comes a knight of shining armor wearing white gold
Shielding me from the whirlwind in my brain
Turmoil thoughts fill my head day after day; heart-ripping despair enters my body,
Then gone
Day after day, the cycle repeats itself
Until
In comes a knight of shining armor wearing white gold
Shielding me from the whirl wind in my brain
Some days, Brash waves crash against my brain, words spiraling around my head
Habits start to form
Habits that look weird but calms the sea
Allowing me to be me
Up and down up and down
My mood goes
Obsession fills my days
Mania sets in like my best friend
Jumping at every chance, she gets
Focusing on things that shouldn't matter
Then slowly two hands creep up my back
Bringing the body chilling thoughts
Round and round I go on this frightening merry go round until
In comes a knight of shining armor wearing white gold
Shielding me from the whirlwind in my brain
Stopping the stomach-turning ride.
Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 1:28 PM UTC
People get confused
when I say I have two brains.
It’s not my fault;
it drives me insane.
When I think I look good,
the other side turns it down,
making me insecure
and making me frown.
When I think that life
is getting good,
my other side ruins it all—
telling me to end it
and to make the knife fall.
When I think I have friends,
my other side says it's fake;
it takes what's not its to take
away from me.
When I think I’m fine (but I’m not),
my other side calls.
Reality hits,
and into my relapse I will crawl.
Mar 4
Mar 4, 2026 at 5:59 PM UTC
I've been dancing with this invisible illness.
All year round, from dusk to dawn, for six years now.
"What a pity," I tell myself.
One minute, it's all highs.
Next thing you know, it's all lows.
Being stained with fiery yellows,
Then soaked with pitch dark blacks.
A curse, a cycle, without an end.
There goes all hope.
I have nothing left to live for, nothing left to give.
Maybe this is the end that I've been yearning for.
Mar 18, 2025
Mar 18, 2025 at 11:30 AM UTC
Everyday is a battle and most days I am losing
This pill, that pill, which mood am I choosing
Ha, but if only I was truly in control like that
My brain, like a peak under the Mad Hatter's hat
Only remembering the hypomanic states
Looking back, reading old entries to realize most of the time was gray
A rollercoaster ride for which I cannot part
The reason, the escape, for running and art
But the saddest part is the deep markings of childhood trauma is what's to blame
Causing me this whiplash of feelings for which I will never tame
Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 2:06 PM UTC
Thoughts racing
Pupils dilated
Put on my eyeliner
On ****** eyes
No sleep for nights
Red lipstick
Sweet smell of parfume
To cover the smoke
Sun shines on my pale skin
My whole body shaking
And then I realise
And then I greet
Another manic episode
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 5:27 AM UTC
All my life's worth has already been determined.
By the scales, by the mirrors.
By the people and their words.
My thoughts, intrusive swords.
Weapons used against me
In my own mind.
Against my will.
I'm just fawning in the flames.
Like a deer in the headlights.
The lights are on but nobody's home.
Jun 27, 2023
Jun 27, 2023 at 12:14 PM UTC
this life
in waves
up and down like up on a rollercoaster
all the time
manic and depressed
round and round and round
stop this
please
i lost my youth
to hospitals and pills
i don't want to be sick
Jul 31, 2022
Jul 31, 2022 at 7:06 AM UTC
This hell that consumes me
Gets the best of me
What have I done to put up with this suffering
Months of depression
And then light shines bright
Welcome to the manic world voices said
There is no exit
From this cycle
It is like being buried alive
Crying and screaming
Laughing and running all over the world
Jul 30, 2022
Jul 30, 2022 at 11:35 AM UTC
i wonder if my suicide attempt did in fact **** me
and this is hell.
with each one, it seems to get worse.
time always moves backwards and then suddenly it’s forward.
i live in my memories. flashbacks. nightmares.
nightmares if i sleep at all.
and when i don’t, the friends behind my ear
keep me company.
the roommates in my head drown me
and blur my vision.
i feel red in my eyes when i get this way.
the stars fall like the burning fireballs they are
and the screams are unbearable
and the cries are aching
and my heart is being pulled out of my chest
like flowers off its root.
when i’m this way, i’d rather die.
parties isolate me.
loneliness swallows me in screaming and begging.
how did i get this way?
i don’t want it.
take it from me.
maybe then i’ll be able to live happy.
Jul 18, 2022
Jul 18, 2022 at 10:08 PM UTC
It's a fascinating experience indeed
To know you're unbalanced
To know there's something wrong
To be really very confident
and to have red flags waving
But people are easily fooled
So you enjoy your high
Knowing you should listen to your therapist
Knowing she's absolutely right to worry
Knowing you'll disregard every one of her warnings
Knowing you'll lie over and over again
Because you want to be free
From the ******* of the pills
You just have to know
If they're what's ****** you up
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 4:08 PM UTC
Friends and family often ask me what suffering from bipolar is like
I always give the same cookie-cutter response.
It is comprised of really high highs
It also has really low lows and
If you are fortunate enough you have periods of baseline.
I have never been able to explain that complexity in my head.
I was never been able to explain the pain and suffering that has been happening for over 8 years.
I was never able to explain that the lows are sometimes last months or years of hate and self-loathing.
I was never able to explain the thought never stops you can not eat, sleep, or breathe without feeling pain.
I was never able to explain that you feel like your drowning and
you are using all your energy to stay afloat that it is easier to just give up some time and sink.
I was never able to explain that everything is spinning out of control that you cling on to anything you can.
I was never able to explain that the hurtful thing I caused to myself
was out of survival to show to myself I could still control
something, anything in a place that feels like you will never feel stable again.
I was never able to explain how the highs are not highs they are a
monster dressed as an angle that seduces you to believe that things are better.
I was never able to explain how that demon pushes you past all your limits until you find yourself alone and drained.
I was never able to explain the addiction to the feeling of happiness that comes on occasions with the highs
I was never able to explain that after living in darkness for so long the high is all you can ask for even if you know it will hurt you.
If I had to explain to people now what it is like to suffer from bipolar disorder is like, I would say it is exhausting.
The thoughts never end.
They never stop no matter how depressed or manic you are.
You lie awake all night because you can not silence them.
You wake up before sunrise because your awoken by the racing of the thoughts.
Your brain never stops.
You are left on the floor immobilized unable to do anything but listen to your head feeding you lies.
You are left with a body that can no longer function.
You are left exhausted and that feeling never goes away.
If I had to describe bipolar disorder in one word it would be
Exhaustion
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 1:36 PM UTC
It’s funny really
How I know the names of my poisons
Most people never know what they drank
Until it’s too late
But I take mine with food twice a day
Maybe that means I’m mad
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 12:52 AM UTC
I am the best thing in the history of the world!
I will fix everything that's wrong in my life!
I am brilliant
I am strong
I haven't slept in days
that's normal ,
right?
I just bought tons of art supplies at walmart!
Sure it cost a lot of money but art is my calling
There is an argument in my head
can you make it stop?
my brain is split into two
I just want to sleep
please tranquilize me
this is mania
Mar 9, 2020
Mar 9, 2020 at 1:48 PM UTC
As I straddle the line between the highs and lows
I find myself wondering when I will start to feel better
The highs, so euphoric and freeing
are always too good to be true
They never last, no matter how much they light up my world
Reckless and bold, I feel invincible
Racing thoughts too fast to even grab hold of
there is no time to overthink
No other feeling quite encapsulates this
I dream of staying in this place
but the highs, so euphoric and freeing
are always too good to be true
Faster than I can comprehend,
I am now falling back down to that dark place
Slamming to the bottom so hard
that my body feels too heavy to move
I never see them coming, but the lows always return
Gripping despair consumes my thoughts
The brightness has now been replaced by such thick fog
it robs my sight of any way forward
There is no euphoria here, only hopelessness
I never see them coming, but the lows always return
Up and down, up and down
the cycle endlessly continues...
Dec 23, 2019
Dec 23, 2019 at 8:54 AM UTC
This morning I woke up with my hand hurting again.
I wake up most mornings with an ache of some sort,
whether it be physically or emotionally.
I thought, not for the first time, about how
I'm too young for this.
See, I was born into this life with a prescription for
pills written into my ribs.
I've been popping them since before I knew what
they meant, or how they destroy my body.
I haven't always been this achey, but I have always
had something wrong with me.
Anxiety stole my childhood, left me running for the
glowing exit sign that is the end of my life.
And I'm not saying I didn't have a good childhood,
but I grew up fearing that toothpaste would **** me
if I accidentally swallowed too much of it.
I still reap the consquences of anxiety to this day.
I grew up with knee problems and anxiety,
grew into depression and now I have to take pills
just to feel normal again.
And sometimes it doesn't work.
See, some days I feel like a regular kid.
I wake up, go to school, come back to family where
I don't have to wonder if they love me or not.
On these days I feel like I can accomplish anything.
I feel like the world is in my hands and all I have to do
is try.
Other days I'm a walking suicide note.
My bed is quick sand, drawing me further and further
into the black that I can't find my way out of.
There's a tornado sending my thoughts into a spiral
and I'm too dizzy to fix this.
When you're this sad, there is no such thing as a
"minor inconvenience."
Everything that stands in the way, small as it may be,
is another reason on my ever growing list of why
I shouldn't be here.
I stayed up until 6 o'clock this morning wondering
why I haven't signed my name on the goodbye note yet.
I didn't reach out to anyone but I still cried when no
one noticed how broken I am.
But why would anyone notice in the first place?
Why would anyone care?
This morning I woke up with my hand hurting again.
As I was taking my daily pills, I wondered, not for the
first time,
If I took enough pain pills, would it cure my aching
soul, too?
Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 9:33 PM UTC
dreadfully and drearily so she picked around her nose where her ring used to be
full of dead and destruction she ripped out pages of John 3.16, where her crown chakra used to feel free
wistfully wishing for her black jeans with a string instead of a zipper; she now wears a gown
wondering why, she contemplates in her midnight blue constellation journal: to down-
right mortify me,
to make a mockery, to….to, to…. to…. find me in case I pull the fire alarm and try to escape
she puts together puzzles with her mother’s name in cursive in the bottom right corner and puts them together with tape
begrudgingly so she ties up the used new balance sneakers she borrows and moans
she wants to move her body, for her form has been stagnant, oh how she wishes to roam
jogging, running, sprinting from the wolves to the butterflies and bunnies
painting a stain glassed window as a holy shrine to The Queen of The Goths, she’s so spunky
wondering where her soul’s mate could be in a blizzard this thick
but she knows she’s been a real witch, flying into her alter ego’s psyche on a broomstick
if she can infiltrate her reflection in the mirror she’ll catapult into outer space
although, around her neck, she’d much rather wrap a shoelace
In five days time, 120 hours, 7,200 minutes, not only does the doggy door open,
so does the front door, who had the key? Will the door be closing?
Jogging, running, sprinting from the eyes of the doctor to the arms of the unbroken
My feet are swollen
My hands need lotion
My thoughts are golden
I am coping
He is coping
We are coping
They are unbroken
Over a basket of fish and chips, I realize I was chosen
Is that a ****** up notion?
I just don’t want to feel hopeless
Is this excess of energy a bad omen?
Back in the free world now, I’m so scared of my spirit being stolen
But my energy is as vast as the ocean and potent
I win, I win, I win !
But the imperialists are closing
In
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 11:19 PM UTC
It's a risky idea
you should give it some thought.
The wheels are in motion
and all stock is bought.
I'm thinking so fast
and I know what comes next.
No longer enthused
'cause my hyper can't last.
Did you take all your tablets?
The one's that restrain you.
Taking off in your spaceship
that's called hyper mania.
Super-thusiastic poetry
by Kaydee.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 12:37 AM UTC
Another day, another ache
my mind is just a total blank
I punch these keys, to no avail
but won’t allow myself to fail
I feel so useless, feel so dumb
I struggle, but the words won’t come
a waste of space, a waste of time
I lost that spark I had inside
I used to have so much to write
sometimes it’d keep me up at night
now where it was, there’s just an ache
my mind is still a total blank
still punching keys, to no avail
another try, another fail
I’m such a failure, i’m so dumb
these ******* words won’t seem to come
a waste of time, a waste of space
my failure stares me in the face
or maybe at another time
I can put something in these lines
or maybe some good tunes would help
no, i’m just lying to myself
I lost that spark I had inside
my life is just a waste of time
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 7:34 PM UTC
fat
until I lost some weight
now people fear I’ll waste away
too quiet
‘til I speak my mind
now they’re all ******
wish I would die
wear too much black
wear pink one day
now everyone assumes I’m gay
work out an hour,
now I’m crazy
I take a break
now i’m too lazy
the truths I tell
become a lie
all people do is criticize
too meek
too weak
an ***
too crass
It doesn’t change
until I die
nobody will be satisfied
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
laying in a warm patch of sunlight surrounded by dandelions
and an orange glow peaks through my closed eyelids
leaving an ache behind my forehead
daydreaming...
of no more teary days
no more chilly hands or goosepimples
of a day when my patch of sunlight lasts for an eternity
and I never get cold
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC
The world is keeping secrets from me
maybe that the reason I bleed and fall
maybe I'm just growing closer to learning it all.
Maybe that's the reason I plead
for some sort of secret sweet release;
so I can learn the secrets
that the world keeps from me.
~lynn
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
One X on the calander and a cup of luke warm coffee
The sidewalk chalk is like padlocks on my feet,
But they cant stop me
Through a static phone line, I can still hear you talking
Nothing of the nice sorts-
It is impure and not godly
Your perception of me slips through the cracks of you teeth
Bitter and raw things you breathe
Your voice is muddy and meek
Another X on the calander
Not a lot of sleep in between
I am wondering where your love went, because it doesnt live here
How many Xs on the calander?
A few weeks? A month? A year?
Both the liquor and the answer is clear
Long car rides spent swallowing sentences
Its a muffled radio, singing along with the tention
Where did you heart go? Every beat a lease of absence
Where did you put it? In a drawer or a cabnet?
How many Xs on the calander will it be till I once again have it
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
I have this announcer
In my head
Speaking through a mic
broadcasting my sensational endeavor
I decided to do that year
only to follow up half way
Because of manic episodes
Composed of unorganized perfection
And useless, jumbled words
That often didn’t make sense
But the announcer never failed
Using their echoing voice
Overpowering all other thoughts
Would debut some idea
Unfinished
Making me feel
infinite
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 11:27 AM UTC
My worry consumes me
My thoughts are scattered
Much like the trash in my messy room
My heart aches so terribly
I can feel the pain of it in my belly
The sharp pieces from my broken heart spill from my mouth
They cut the people I love wide open
They bleed out
Suddenly, I am sick of me
I wonder how I got this way
Was it the hand slipping under my shirt, unwelcomed?
Was it because of all the spoons with burnt backs?
Was it the visions of my mother’s swollen face?
I want to know what the **** it was that made me so hideous
Alas, I don’t have the answers
And while the weight of the world is not on my shoulders
It is certainly on my mind
It is certainly in my heart
And I pray that one day I might rest
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
Sitting in front of
The people I love
Hiding from them
My feelings in a cove
The sadness seeps
Up from my broken heart
To my eyes as they search
For a place to start
A place to start
With a knife in my hand
The thin lines as the pierce
The blood pooling in the sand
You hide them the next day
The cuts along your arms
To make sure no one sees them
You raise your alarm
Not a day goes by
That you don't see the scars
From so many years ago
Straight lines across your arms
Years later you know
How the cuts didn't help
All they did was curse you
With the pain that you felt
Each day a reminder
Of the way you made
Made yourself feel better
By giving yourself pain
Scarred for life
Both mentally and physically
You now know why you should never
Never show your vulnerability
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC