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From The Inside Out

Posted on April 30 2017

From The Inside Out
In 1998 I locked myself in my bedroom and put a play gun to my head. Had it been real I wouldn't be here today. In 1968 I overdosed on pills, but lived because a friend call an ambulance in time. Thirty years later I was rocking in a fetus position, crying uncontrollably after the play gun attempt. I realized I needed help. I put my fist into the wall, in locked the door and went to the phone. Thus began my long journey with bipolar disorder Type I.

I saw a psychologist and a psychiatrist. The first suggested I might be bipolar after three meetings. I took her thoughts to my psychiatrist who confirmed the diagnosis. During manic episidoeds my mind raced; the only conversations I had were disjointed, rapid fire words, and much anger. At one point I was schizophrenic. I was watching myself yelling and angry enough to hit my partner. I couldn't get the "bad" Denise back into my "good" Denise body. It was a very scary moment.

I began writing poetry on two sites, Hat Daze, and Bad Hat Daze. It depended on which stage I was in: manic, depression, or cycling. I always wore a hat when I wrote because it held my thoughts in tow. It was an opportunity for people to reach within my mind. What you appear on the outside is not what is going on on the inside. I took up to 13 medications at one point trying to stabilize me; they didn't always work. I would have extreme highs and black hole lows. I never knew when they would come on.

Through the years I learned what triggers my mania and how I act out. I would have to have sex, I would spend Hugh amount of money that I didn't have. It was a vicious cycle, very rapid and out of control.

In 2013 I was sent to a holistic psychiatrist. He slowly began eliminating medicines and put me on proven vitamins that helped with my episodes. Today I only take 4 medications along with my vitamins. I came to the light. I know I am not cured, that will never happen, but I do know when episodes are coming on. No more sleep writing, where I had not clue I had written poetry in the middle of the night. No more horrendous nightmares that I couldn't wake up from.

I still write on Hat Daze, and I still wear hats, but usually I don't cycle . I know this journey has not ended, it will only end when I die, but I am one of the lucky ones with bipolar disorder, I got help.

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