It has been a hot second since I’ve posted anything.
One of my last posts about my almost-suicide got a lot more attention than I could’ve imagined. It weirdly deterred me from writing more, honestly.
I just returned from another trip from the hospital, I had barely entered my doorway when inspiration struck for a poem. I spent the next five hours, writing a poem. Finding video clips on my phone. Editing the poem in video form, something I’ve never done.
Nerdy high schooler Hiba used to be on the board for the tv/film club, I guess a part of me really misses doing that. Although this isn’t my best work, I very much stand behind the message and would really appreciate you giving it a watch/share. Or, you can read the script down below.
It’s my take on what having bipolar disorder feels like.
What Bipolar Disorder is Really Like: a poem
Bipolar disorder is categorized by extreme mood changes, ranging from manic highs to depressive lows.
It’s feeling in high saturation, everything a little too much.
Too much of anything is bad, but mania is beyond too much happy.
It’s the inability to focus on tasks cause your mind is racing too fast.
Or maybe becoming hyper focused on one task and obsessively working, neglecting food and sleep until it’s finished.
It’s racing thoughts, talking really quickly, unable to focus on one topic.
It’s not being able to turn your brain off and sleep.
It’s staying up for days at a time,
Or finally getting to bed and waking up just a couple hours later, mind buzzing, ready to work.
It’s suicidal thoughts trying to turn your brain off.
It’s forgetting any sense of consequence.
Being reckless, one way tickets, buying without care, declined credit cards.
It’s manic spirals, seeing things that aren’t there, obsessive paranoia.
It’s impaired judgement, overdosing on meds or chopping your hair off to help a headache.
It’s agitation when someone gets in your way.
Anger when someone tries to stop you.
It’s feeling on top of the world, you are magic, you can do anything, you can be anyone.
It’s shaking hands,
Wanting to run away.
It’s your mind running, you’re dancing, you’re talking, happier than happy, euphoric.
And then you crash.
It’s isolating yourself from friends and family.
It’s sleeping all day long.
Missing class, and all other obligations.
It’s being detached, no longer caring.
It’s a sadness so deep it physically hurts.
It’s being unable to shower or eat.
It’s thoughts of ending it, the inability to see any sort of light.
it’s living enveloped in a darkness no one else can see.
It’s practicing your smile in your car before you can socialize.
It’s no longer finding joy in anything you previously loved.
It’s losing all energy and will.
It’s being prescribed anti-depressants
…and getting manic instead of better.
It’s months of medication management and a lifetime of pills.
It’s losing a sense of who you are.
Are you “you” when you’re manic and obsessively working while chirpy or are you “you” when you isolate yourself during months of depression.
It’s wondering if the pills are suppressing who you’re meant to be.
It’s feeling like you’re stripped of your identity.
It’s the inability to trust your judgments and your feelings.
It’s obsessively noticing mood changes and trying to figure out triggers.
It’s a lifetime of chaos and it’s exhausting.
It’s a 1 in 5 suicide rate.
It’s a 90% divorce rate.
It’s the 6th leading cause of disability in the world.
No, we can’t make it go away.
It’s knowing that this initial year of diagnosis is the hardest. And although it’ll never go away, I’ll learn to control it better with each passing year.
It’s establishing routine, a healthy lifestyle, talk therapy, and medication. It’s knowing that although my life may be a little crazy, it’ll be the only one I’ll live so I have to make it count.
Thank you for reading this far. Also, I know I’ve been talking loads about mental health recently but with my fairly recent diagnosis, it seems to be one of the main things on my mind as I figure out how to get better. Thank you to everyone who has been supporting me, I don’t know what I’d do without you.