Exposed, raw nerves under the skin, soul naked to the universe, the bipolar mania visits you on the springtime breeze with dancing cabbage butterflies and pollen motes. It comes in full episodes and hypomania and mixed episodes.
You’re confined and claustrophobic. Your skin is too tight. Your mind merges with the world mind and you have to roam, but your trauma doesn’t leave for change. Agoraphobia metamorphosing into twisted hallucinations threatening from outside of whatever shelter you’ve created for yourself— a life of insecurity has led to this instability; a room with a lock on the outside, a couch of a home, and now what can you do?
All the manic energy claws at you but the weight of agoraphobia pushes back down on you, the only entity separate from all. You are everything, you have met and melded with all, but this monster sits beyond reality. This anxiety is a force beyond a bipolar disorder. Split in half, with your guts hanging exposed, you simply survive. You exist. Though it feels as though it has lasted and will last forever, your mood peaks and drops.
When the depression comes it may last years, and when you find some semblance of home, you may go months without leaving. A bachelor apartment becomes your life. Your voice grows hoarse from disuse. You run out of food. You can’t leave. You can’t go back out there. That isn’t your world.
Cycle upon cycle, healing comes slowly. You stabilize aspects of your life. Self awareness leads you to identifying your warning signs and finally, you open up truly and honestly in therapy. You begin to at least want to understand yourself. You want to know yourself. You realize the world when you’re depressed, anxious, psychotic, manic, suicidal— the substance of what you experience, is all the same. The ground you fall through when low is the same one you fly up from when high. The monster isn’t separate. The absolute beauty of stepping into the universe at the edge of human consciousness comes from the same mind that transmuted trauma into additional disorder. This is your world.
Jupiter and Saturn, claustrophobia and agoraphobia, mania and depression— this is your world. If this is you, if this is your story, welcome, I see you. We exist and are alive. We will continue. Hail to the bipolar agoraphobic, pushed from within and from outside, you will persevere.