‘SCARRED NOT BROKEN’ EXCLUSIVE COLUMN BY LORI BUTIERRIES
BIPOLAR ME Wild.
Full of passion.
Detached from everyone.
Life of the party.
A wet blanket.
Talking a mile a minute.
One day proclaiming, “Make love to me,” and the next growling, “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Having a squirrel moment, jumping from task to task, or topic to topic.
Loving freely & fully but hate getting compliments or being comforted- receiving affection is hard for me.
Confident & bold.
Hyper-vigilant & on guard 24/7.
Full of faith but a foul-mouthed & repentant sinner in the same skin.
Basically, I’m all over the place.
Being bipolar feels like a chaotic but choreographed battle between two equally skilled opponents.
It is a constant contradiction that makes sense at the moment—creating a person of cycling extremes.
I dislike the rapid mood swings but am content to teeter on the emotional brink for all eternity.
Well, until I'm not, that is. It is exhausting living like this.
The depressive episodes scare me, while my manic episodes scare everyone else.
I need balance- I think, but I'm not sure if that's in my best interest or not?
What if I don't like feeling “normal”?
What if leveling out the chemical imbalance in my head takes away my sense of self or creative edge?
What if I stop caring about anyone and everything, including my kids? 141 AWARENOW / THE MENTAL EDITION