I don’t think in poems anymore, or feel the right adjective.  I don’t cry and refuse to eat or bathe.  I don’t see the heartbreaking beauty that I know is buried in small things.  I don’t know how to slow down time like I used to.  People converse with me, and I know what they are saying.  My meds have made me normal, and I think I hate it.

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Comment by Judy Thompson on August 18, 2012 at 6:54am

long time ago someone said, "I was on bipolar meds for two years, and I didn't have a single thought for all of that time".   Gita's right,  it's a trade. 

 

Normal is a viewpoint, not a condition.

Comment by Robert Crisman on August 18, 2012 at 3:40am

Pix, glad you're back.

Comment by Gita on August 18, 2012 at 2:28am

It's a tradeoff every day, a balancing act and no net under the high wire. They tell us the meds are the net, but they can be the cage where the animals are kept. The good part is the absence of sharp grief; the other part, as you so perfectly describe it, is a numbness. Do you want to see the world in sharp reds and blues but mourn, or see the world in beige and part with the pain? I don't know either.

Comment by Joey Delgado on August 17, 2012 at 10:34pm

Haha! Great stuff. Cut the regimen, it's time to feel.

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