IceBox Canyon

IceboxCanyon

For two weeks we built a friendship from a common ground… our mental health. It was innocent, yet something kept drawing me to you. I would have to refrain from writing to you CONSTANTLY… I just wanted to crawl inside of your mind and learn who you were, who you wanted to be.

Then we decided to meet.

A hike to appease the fire inside of us… to have the time to really dive into each-others minds.

We met on common ground to travel together to Icebox Canyon.

My heart speeds up now at the memory of getting out of my car and seeing you, the physical you I didn’t really remember on our first meeting. I remember most the feeling you ignited within me… I remember your curly short hair, your athletic build, the easy smile that reached your eyes and lit up my world. Butterflies at the memory of your embrace… I can still recall the way you smelled, how my body melded to yours, still innocent and unknowing, yet treading on completely new feelings, a new energy never experienced before. I could feel an electrical surge… darts of energy diving off my body, surging into yours.

I could have lived forever in that embrace… and yet, that was just the beginning. I expected to be nervous yet I was not… I was something entirely different… yet I couldn’t recognize it yet. You played “Hero”, and extended your hand… I took it into mine… the electricity that shot into me was intoxicating. I could feel your energy combine with mine, a reverberation that I could feel to my bones, and I could FEEL you. The walls I built were not in place with you… somehow you broke through and the intensity of your Being grasping for me took my breath from my chest. Your energy and mine chased and followed, filling me to the brim with a feeling that I can only describe as feeling “whole”… no longer depleted of the fire I thought I lost long ago. With purpose you played that song… changing its memory forever within me… never again would it be associated with devastation, but instead, a new beginning… in that moment of feeling your energy burn into me, a new hope was created. When you removed your hand from mine, its absence was immediately felt… and it was unnatural.

The conversation came easily… excitement was overflowing. The trail was just as easy, and yet for one reason or another, once it got slightly steeper I reached for you to find you reaching for me… who reached first?? I thought I did, yet you tell me it was you. We remained in our bubble… pink arrows showing the way… the blue sky brilliant with whispy clouds passing quickly through. We sat against rocks, skin on fire with each others touch, my barriers collapsing around my feet… and I wanted them to stay down. I wanted to let you in.

I got lost in your touch…not just the way you touched me, but the blaze that erupted from how I felt touching you.  I could see the looks from others who knew what we would still come to realize… they could see the magnetism, the energy we exuded, they could see we were meant to be… your care in my safety and in making sure I was comfortable with each step. I saw it clearly in their gaze, the knowing smile of their lips. And still, as I noticed them, I was hopelessly lost in you. My head on your chest… I would sigh… “I could listen to his heart beat forever”. THIS WAS NEW. UNEXPECTED. INTOXICATING.

The sun is disappearing from the sky, evening falling fast… I beg time to slow. I am not ready to release you yet. We drive… in silence… my mind racing and asking “what the hell is this”… this can’t be real. The radio plays… a sadness looms. I feed off your emotion and feel a new feeling… desperation. When will I see you … I MUST see you again… I can’t wait till Thursday, I think I could possibly wither away. Tuesday it will be…

I watch you pull away… Oh my God could this be? The cynic in me crumbled… He is the mate to my soul… Later you wrote… Serendipitous. I smile to myself… I am going to ride his lightening bolt.

That boy is mine.

©thebipolarmuse 2018

“I Am Not Afraid…”~ Joan Of Arc

bornForThis

Bipolar Ord3r~ I was born to do this♥

 

Every day is a new day to bring happiness into our lives. It isn’t always the easiest thing to do … even  more-so when you battle mental health issues, but with patience, persistence, a sense of humor, and the desire to make life better with each day, it can be done!

Let go of that which you have no control~ Learn to go with the flow, life is ever changing~ Be kind to yourself, see your beauty INSIDE, and LOVE yourSELF~ Smile, it is contagious~ Laugh out loud, it is even more contagious~ When you lack kindness, don’t speak~ Point out one good thing about yourself daily, and say what that is out-loud while looking yourself in the eyes~~~ When having a bad day, remember the graceful pre-teen who faced cancer bravely, whose moniker was “makeup is my wig”, all the while bringing encouragement, love, happiness, grace, and a beaming smile to others… up until her last breath~~~ Do what you do with your whole heart in it, your passion will encourage others!

LIVE, THRIVE, CRY, EMBRACE the SUCK, and no matter what, NEVER EVER GIVE UP… you are worth all the effort. Don’t let life slip by, EXPERIENCE it with an open mind and with your heart “all in”… afterall, we only have THIS life to live, so get to living it! ♥

Fuck Bipolar Disorder… Bipolar ORDER is how I roll~

©thebipolarmuse 2018

Fire and Ice by Robert Frost

fireNice

 

Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice is also great

And would suffice.~ Robert Frost

 

I love poetry. I can find a poem that whispers (or screams) into my heart and soul… that flows through my veins. This poem certainly is one that does so. In the past, I allowed these words to resonate with the anger and hate I harbored for something not worth mentioning. Healing has taken place, and I have worked hard to release the negativity. That being said, this poem no longer feeds that monster… instead, I see it for the beauty of the words, the intense reaction it can evoke in others, and allow it to motivate me to write in ways that help the reader “feel” the words they are reading. Besides, it is a Robert Frost poem… poetic genius.

 

©thebipolarmuse2018

Set Yourself On Fire!

 

Success isn’t a result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire.” ~Arnold H. Glasow

 

I want to live by this philosophy! How many times will I allow myself to be burned by not following through and completing something. I set goals, perhaps too many, and make them completely unattainable. Would that just be a part of who I am?

As a child I wanted to be rich and famous…. how attainable is that?

My Father too was unable to complete anything. He couldn’t be what he needed for me and my sister. A complete asshole by my definition, yet I struggle and miss him. I still love him and long for him… though it can never be. Sadly he died in 2004. Every option of knowing him, forgiving him, telling him “I love you” was removed from me. I desperately would love for him to know that I have grown and learned the important lesson of loving without the expectation of anything being returned.

I love you Dad… and I hope you fell into eternal sleep with peace and sweet dreams of Starr and me.♥

©thebipolarmuse2010

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Written in April 2010

Tingles of Mania

manicInside

Tingles up my spine, in my hands, feet, neck, and head. Sounds magnified by a billion… clanks, swooshes, drips, music from a house over, barking dogs, cars, the energy in my head. I swear I hear clown cars, elephants, people murmuring, popcorn bags crinkling, horns, tinkering bells, shoes shuffling, children laughing, a circus in my head.

Every sensation intensified 100 fold. Every ache a pain, every touch leaves a scorching path, every chill becomes a pleasantly painful shiver. Running my fingers through my hair is brutal yet somehow intoxicating.

I flee from tears to happiness… often irritable with boundless energy.

BOUNDLESS ENERGY.

Days become nights, and then nights back to days. Images fly through my head one after another. Dirt, trees, a smiling lady, retro car, beach, sand, beer, the sky, moon, stars, babies, holding hands, fire, weeds, butterflies, black and white photos, Gidget, music notes, piano, stadium lights, cars, people chattering, relay for life, school, books, money, flying, dreams, galaxies, GOD, energy.

Far above the earth, above the stars, flying in a luminous light… tingling head to toe.

This, my friend, is my mania.

Welcome to my world.

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If you have ever experienced mania… you know this well. If you have never experienced mania… this is just the tip of  the iceberg.

Without fail… after mania is the crash into the deepest pit of depression… because of this… mania has a beauty, and is often sought and a place I never want to leave.

 

©bipolarmuse2018

My Life Closed~ Emily Dickinson

HeavenlyClouds

 

my life closed twice before its close;

it yet remains to see

if immortality unveil

a third event to me,

so huge, so hopeless to conceive,

as those that twice befell.

Parting is all we know of heaven,

And all we need of hell. ~ Emily Dickinson

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Oh how this poem resonates within my very core… be Being. Twice I feel I have failed my children. All I want, crave, and need, is to be the very best person I can be for myself so that I may be the very best mother I can… for them. Isn’t that what it’s all about?? Keeping them safe, healthy, and having their best interest at heart? Sometimes it is difficult to know when I am being selfish and to know when to let go of that which I have no control.

I can control me though… and fix me… for me.

For THEM

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Originally written in April 2010 after a horrible person harmed a loved one. I use to say his name in hopes that others would find out about what he did. I no longer want to hold that hate… I have let go and moved on with my life.

©bipolarmuse2018

 

What Doesn’t Kill You

The very beginning… written in April of 2010… coming to terms with poor mental health, a diagnosis of Bipolar 1 disorder with psychosis and comorbid disorders such as anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, and many Psychosomatic symptoms.

~~~~So is it true that whatever doesn’t kill you will make you stronger? I am leaning more towards the “whatever doesn’t kill you will only wear you down until you break into a billion little pieces” idea of the matter. Everyone has a story right? Well, so do I. And in this world of anonymity I will take advantage of telling my story within my 10 seconds of “bloggy” fame.
I have no clue how to blog, or what the hell I am getting into but I do believe it will be therapeutic….especially important to me because I can no longer afford the therapist I have been seeing…
And ohhhhhh the venting I shall accomplish. It’s brilliant….
Welcome to my wild, ridiculous, adventurous life… my wild ride. The beautiful disaster I have come to be.~~~~