Regrets

Regrets

I regret my decision to stop

taking my much needed bipolar

medications.

I regret the pain I caused

everybody and the mania which ensued.

When I am unwell I am simply not myself

I am something other

somebody both frightened and frighting

now I am left to pick of the

shattered pieces of stability

and attempt to weave them together

again.

Apologies just never seem good enough

the devastation seems huge-

regrets loom large

lessons seem to be never learned.

living with mental illness is very difficult

but thankfully I am not alone

I have friends and family

a wonderful loving husband

we get through the tough times together

we get through the tough times together

despite my regrets.

I know this time I will try to do better.

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Raging Bull

My mind can go faster than your car.

I can go from zero-to over one-hundred in the space of minutes,

or the space of hours.

It seems like it would be a blessing,

but its more like a curse.

It is a raging bull-on fire-I get so tangled

and twisted into my own stupid desire.

My mind can go faster than your car.

My stupid thoughts spin freely,

like a washing machine on empty.

The nonsense covers me,

completely-

like a young child hiding out into a

pile of beautiful crunchy Autumn leaves.

My mind can go faster than your car,

and that is a wild, bad and dangerous thing.

In fact, I must be constantly medicated

for this so I do not SPIN-OUT OF CONTROL.

It is not a mild, or pretty sight,

this brain is on fire, like a raging bull,

I see RED and only and all of:

my secret desire.

I wish to be

NORMAL.

UNFORTUNATELY…

its just not the case, because my mind

can go faster than your car.

Tired of the tug and fight

Today, I am tired of the tug and fight.

Between myself and I,

over how I am going to spend my time?

And if I am going to crash soon-

taking a nap? or if I am going to make some kind of art?

or will i read books?

I am so sick of this fight, this tug of war,

between my depressed side and

my manic-laughing hyena side?

I feel like I must be Dr,Jekyll and Mr.Hyde.

I cannot decide which impulses to follow;

do i do something crazy, yet grand, like drawing

a wonderful piece of art, in charcoal or pastels or even crayons?

Or do i tilt my hand-all aces-how grand!

Do I just take another anxiety med and sleep off

all the lame boring excitement,

of trying to create a manuscript or poems or paintings,

or bead another un-bought necklace-which only i will wear?

Tired of the tug and fight.

I want middle ground.

I just took another lithium about an hour ago.

I want all the stability that an entire

Starship fleet of doctors

once promised me.

I always take my meds,

but eventually they stop working-

or just real-life shit problems happen,

and stress me out,

so that my medicines stop working.

i try to be the ideal patient.

Still I remain a hybrid of Dr .Jekyll and Mr.Hyde.

So tired of the tug and fight….useless.

frustrations mount.

depression sizzles.

mania fizzles.

blame it on the weather-

or blame it on the stupid tug and fight,

stupid insanity-

it bites

me

right in the ass,

every-time.