More about bipolar disorder

I wrote the following poem when I was struggling to differentiate between what was real to me and what others told me was real–the inherent confusion of the psychotic, thinking, believing, even knowing I knew better, knew more, could intuit things the experts couldn’t.

Long Ago

I went to the lilac bush
     because it was
     a safe place
     being nothing
     other than a branch
                a scent
     no light to make seeing happen
They told me I was sick
     but I knew
     that it was better
                we only know
                the real
                by the not real
Having lost
     all sense
     of up and down
the dignity of admitting
     I was wandering
                eyes closed
                following a faint glow
                of incense burning on a shelf
Smell, like touch, always precedes seeing

16 thoughts on “More about bipolar disorder

  1. Real is such a limiting word. I wish everyday life didn’t have to be “real”. Unfortunately, it’s a difficult world and I’m sorry to hear of your hardship. I wish you the best.



  2. Wow. How do you do this? With simple, clean words you get across the complex struggle of figuring out whose real is really real. You are brilliant, and thank you SO much for sharing this with us!


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