Before anyone completely bashes me for talking shit about Cancer let me explain. Cancer guys can be great. Cancer guys can make great boyfriends, just like any other zodiac sign, of course. While I could write all day long about their positive traits I think it’s important to know about their well-known down sides too. I’m not singling out Cancer men. Let’s be honest – every sign has a dark side and I’ll be writing more and exploring those topics on TC. And it’s important to note someone’s personality will not be influenced solely by their sun sign but by their entire birth chart. Now that that’s cleared up let’s discuss Cancer men’s major flaws.

They can be an emotional rollercoaster.

One minute he’s perfectly content doing whatever, the next minute he’s in a shitty mood and passively-aggressively taking it out on you. Since Cancer is a feminine moon sign this makes Cancer men more affected by the moon and thus turned into a sappy, dreamy, moody mess on a regular basis. Cancer men are cry babies and probably the most bipolar of the entire zodiac.

To love him is to love his mother.

He loves his mother, there’s no doubting that, but the problem is that you’ll always come second to her. She is the one true queen in his life and you’ll never be able to compare to her. He has unusually close ties with her and will always go to her before making any big decisions. You love that he’s close with his mom but damn, dude, ever heard of boundaries? The only way to understand him is to understand his mother. If she doesn’t like you forget ever developing a long-term relationship with this guy. To get in good with him you’ll have to first get in good with his mother.

They can be manipulative.

Cancer men have a reputation for being extremely manipulative. Often they’ll use subtle tactics, hints, and guilt trips to get their way in a quiet and diplomatic way without the other person realizing what’s going on at the time.

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They can be ridiculously clingy.

Cancer is a sign of fertile imagination and deep emotional needs. If he had a rough childhood he’s even more in search of that perfect, nurturing mother figure to take care of him. He needs his moods and anxieties to be understood and if they’re not then he will retreat to his shell and come back out when he feels safe.

You never really feel like you know his true self.

He can be sulky and depressed one minute then entirely sentimental, happy, or extroverted in the next. He needs a strong partner who can deal with his various sides and complexity. You never know what will trigger his moods and his evasiveness and habit of being indirect makes you question if you ever really know him.

He’s possessive and jealous.

Cancer is all about needing emotional security and trust in a relationship, like all of us of course, but they take it to another level. If he feels as though he can’t trust you or if he’s just an insecure dude in general than his possessive and jealous side is going to come out in a major way. He’ll make snide comments about what you’re wearing and ask you questions about what you’re doing and who you’re with that can rival the time of being a teenager under your parents’ roof.

Have you dated a Cancer guy? Did he portray these signs? Let me hear about your experiences.

This was alarming, but only somewhat. I say somewhat because, deep down, I know without a doubt this is true. I am needy and crave attention (which I blame on being an only child – thanks mom and dad!). But at the same time, I have so much to give. It’s an interesting dilemma.

I have given it some thought and broken down some of the elements of what makes me emotionally high maintenance (at least in my opinion). I highly suspect there are many others out there like myself (or maybe I’m just telling myself that to feel better?).

I am emotionally high maintenance because I want to text you and talk to you through out the day – every day. I do not text you to keep tabs on you – I want the meat, the depth, the every detail of your day. I care about what’s happening at work, which client is being a dumb bitch, which TV show you watched on your lunch break. It is these small things that mean the most to me. A simple text saying “I like you.” can turn a whole day around. I am emotionally high maintenance because I am hurt when you ignore me, even if you are genuinely busy. I wish I was not this way, but it is simply how I am.

I am emotionally high maintenance because I constantly (to the point where I’m probably annoying as fuck) ask things of you. I ask for reassurance, I ask for love, I ask for attention. I ask a million questions about that girl you went on one date with a million years ago because I secretly feel threatened even though you’ve given me no reason to worry (“But why did she text you a picture of a salad? Is she still into you?!?!?”). Our past relationships shape us, no matter how badly we want to leave them behind. In the past when I asked for these things from others, I received nothing, but that is different now. You give me an inch, and now I’m going to take the whole damn mile.

I am emotionally high maintenance because I compartmentalize my emotions. Rather than settling with one general feeling I allow the context of whatever situation I’m in to twist my emotions and bring out the best, and the worst. I spend time with my boyfriend – happy. I then go straight to my job and feel unchallenged – unhappy. I can be talking about how excited I am for something, and the next minute be ranting about a crazy coworker and be near tears. I can see how this would be exhausting for others to have to listen to, but this is just how I’m wired.

The term “high maintenance” usually has negative connotations. When we think of someone who is high maintenance in terms of his or her appearance, we think of someone who is dressed to the 9’s, constantly aiming for perfection, always trying to maintain and improve an image. I guess in the same way, that’s what I’m trying to do with my feelings.

I know there is no such thing as perfect, but I want to be the best lover I possibly can – I am aiming for perfection. I’m always striving to make others happy, to impress. My emotions may be exhausting, but they are raw, and real, and at the end of the day, I’d rather give too much, push too much, nag too much, ask too many questions, than regret not saying what’s on my mind and how I feel.

I’m quite possibly the worst person to bring to any amusement park, because I refuse to step foot on a single thrill ride. Perpetually labeled “designated bag holder”, I much prefer to keep myself planted safely on the ground. For someone with Bipolar Disorder, you’d think I’d be used to being thrown around against my will, going up until I’m high enough to see and do anything, only to come crashing down the next second with no warning.

This roller coaster analogy is the only way I can think to describe the feeling of manic depression to those who don’t have this diagnosis. My parents have always joked that there were two of me, and I couldn’t agree more. The difference between people while their manic compared to when they’re in a depressive state can be jarring to those who care about them.

One minute, you’re with this lively social endearingly psychotic man/woman, and the next you can’t even manage to get a hold of them via text or force them from their bed to brush their matted hair. This has always thrown those I love for a loop. My family members, for the most part, can recognize my different stages and somehow manage to cope with the numerous versions of their daughter and sister that occasionally make their appearance.

Has she locked herself away? Don’t push it, she will snap out of it.

Is she talking so fast it’s hard to comprehend her sentences? Laugh at her wit and compliment her eccentric makeup choices.

One of the most difficult situations when it comes to living with Bipolar Disorder is making it known to your significant other. As someone with severe insecurity issues, I can’t see why dudes decide to date me. But they do, and even as I write this I have somehow managed to land another really nice guy. However, my comprehensive list of mental illnesses isn’t really something I like to whip out on the first date. The most painful fact of my particular struggle with Bipolar Disorder is that I know for a fact the guys I’m with fall in love with the manic version of me. They’re almost always dumbfounded when they first hear me cry about how I don’t understand why they love me, or the first time I tell them that I want to die. They’re left with a shell of the person who just breathed a fire into their bodies the day they met.

This is why I think it’s important for me to write this, so I can explain mania and depression in my own experience and maybe shed some light on the similar experiences of others.

I’m going to start with Mania, because it’s just so much more fun. I’ll come right out and say it, I love being manic and I know other people love me for it. When I’m manic, which I am right now, I think I am the most interesting person to ever walk the planet. I’m efficient in everything I do, vastly creative, and one of the most driven people you’ll ever meet. Once I set my infinite energy to something, I can’t be stopped. The sense of confidence that radiates from me attracts people like moths, and you can trust that I love every second of it. When I’m manic, I am very selfish and inconsiderate. Consequences don’t exist, and the feelings of others don’t really matter. It took me a while to be comfortable with the negative side of mania, but in the moment none of it matters because I feel great.

Mania comes with a feeling of other-worldliness, like you’re superhuman and nothing can ever hurt you.

“I dare you” is the sentence that has almost ended my life numerous times, because I can do anything and I will prove you wrong if you think I can’t. This leaves people with two opinions of me. Either, “Damn this girl is certifiably insane”, or “She is the most exciting and fun person I have ever met let’s be friends till we die”.

However, this sense of euphoria comes with severe drawbacks, most of which don’t affect me until I’m coming down from my episode.

I’ve had sex with strangers in places I don’t remember, I’ve done drugs and drank more than I’m proud of, I’ve spent entire paychecks on bulimic binges, I’ve stolen my parent’s cars with no driver’s license and parked NEXT to a police officer, I’ve jumped off a bridge and shattered both my ankles, I’ve allowed men to convince me to take off my clothes and jump into a river for 30 dollars, I held a lit cigarette on my bare hand for 20 seconds. The dangerous situations I’ve been in because my brain has no off switch could have killed me, but I love it because it’s short lived. But the high always ends, and I’m left with numerous scars… both physical and emotional.

Once an episode of mania ends, it’s inevitably followed by depression.

I can usually sense these coming on when I find it harder and harder to get out of my bed before dinner time. Darkness envelops every corner of your once electrified body, draining you of any traces of power. Nothing I once loved is enjoyable, even the music I listen to in order to breathe makes me sick to my stomach. I become miserable in every sense, and the once cheery person everyone grew to adore is gone. She’s replaced by this creature who only lives to consume and destroy. Words of hate and disdain spill from my mouth toward everyone I love, but I save the strongest ones for myself. Someone that was once so creative and active now can’t find the strength or motivation to go to the bathroom or brush their teeth. The stench of self-loathing follows me around, leaving a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. When I actually do find myself in the shower, I can only sit on the ground staring blankly at the ugly orange tile, waiting for any sense of feeling to return to my body as the water starts to run cold.

Dissociation is frightening, and I don’t know any other way to explain it but viewing your own life through a TV screen. Your body is going through the motions, but your mind isn’t there and you can’t feel a thing.

Personally, I’ve had numerous occasions where I have actually watched myself go through life while I was floating above my body. Not only are emotions scarce, but any physical sensations are too. In a desperate attempt to feel anything at all, people going through depressive episodes often turn to self-harm and suicidal attempts. I can personally account for this, because feeling separate from yourself for so long breeds even stronger self-hatred. The day I tried to kill myself, I only did it because I was trying to feel something again.

Bipolar Disorder is a debilitating mental illness. In both my highs and lows, I’ve been placed in circumstances where I could have been arrested, severely mangled, or even dead.

But the hardest part of living with this mental illness is that it just doesn’t seem legit enough.

When someone with Cancer or Fibromyalgia can’t go to work because they can’t get out of bed, no one asks questions. This malignancy thrives in your own brain, and it won’t hold up on an absence note because it won’t show up on any scan. Living with this takes some serious guts, and despite how hard it can be to watch someone you love go through it, sometimes you have to take a step back and watch in awe. In both their pitfalls and their highest highs, there is so much beauty and strength in everything they do.

From the whirlwind that is mania, with its vibrant colors of creativity and unapologetic loudness; to the throes of depression, and the sheer power it takes to battle it day by day.

Loving someone with Bipolar Disorder is hard, but I can promise you it will always be worth it because we feel our love so strongly, and will fight with everything we have not to lose it.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever cared at all. Sometimes your silence makes me think that you never really cared and it was all an act.

I wonder — when I know for sure you heard about my pain or my mother’s illness or my dad’s surgery and you never tried to call, you never tried to ask how I’m doing, you never tried to reach out to see if I needed anything at such a difficult time in my life. Were you even worried? You were so absent. So far away when I needed you next to me.

I wonder — when you see me doing well at work and finally living my dream, do you feel like sending ‘I’m proud of you,’ or ‘you’re doing great?’ A few words to alleviate the agony of the journey that you knew so well. A few words to make me smile. Is it so hard for you to say something, anything?

You were always stingy with your actions but I didn’t know that you were also stingy with your words.

I wonder — when you know that it’s my birthday and everyone I love is letting me know that they remember me, that I’m on their minds, that they wish they were able to celebrate with me, do you feel the same way? Do you look back and remember when we used to call each other at midnight and hang up 5 hours later? Do you miss our friendship? Do you miss us?

I wonder — when you’re alone at night, rethinking everything like you always do, evaluating your friends after a night out, studying every new person you meet to see if they’re genuine, do you think of me? Do you appreciate how genuine and real I was with you? Do you ever long for one more conversation between us? Because they were so easy and so effortless and so raw. Do I even cross your mind when you think of other people? Sometimes I wonder what am I to you.

I wonder — when you’re bored and going through your contact list, do you stop at my name? Do you type up messages and then delete them? Do you feel a slight urge to just dial my number just to see what would happen? Do you wonder what it would be like if we started talking again? Sometimes I wonder if you still have my number or if you deleted it because I never hear from you.

I wonder — when I’m alone, staring at these empty walls, thinking of all the people who matter to me, thinking of all the people I miss, why I gave you so much. Why did I put you on such a pedestal? Why did I invest so much in you?

Sometimes I wonder what I saw in you. Why did I think you were so special? Maybe I wonder because I still don’t understand why I did that to myself or maybe I wonder because I still don’t understand why I let you do all of this to me.

But sometimes, after all this wondering, I find myself remembering all the people who there for me, the ones who made me smile, the ones who stood by my side when I needed them. I remember how blessed I am to have such amazing people in my life. I remember how much they love me and how they always find ways to let me know what I mean to them.

I remember all of that and I forget all about you.

Dear Husband,

I never knew when I married you 12 years ago that you were bipolar and neither did you.  We were young and in love, and our love story was turbulent but beautiful.  I figured no one else was as passionate as us, so when we were in love with were REALLY in love, and when we hated each other, we REALLY hated each other. In the end though, my heart always knew, and so

I still chose you. 

Nine months after we were married and you started hearing things and seeing things that weren’t there, I didn’t understand what you were going through and didn’t know it was because of bipolar. I tried to respect your delusions and listen with seriousness until the night it was all too much and we found you surrounded by police, barefoot and afraid.  They misdiagnosed you that night as having schizophrenia and I sobbed tears that I thought would never end, but they did, and through it all,

I still chose you. 

We figured out you had bipolar disorder and you gained weight because you refused to get them adjusted and to see a psychiatrist, but you got better.  A lot better.  In fact, so much better you went back to college, something you couldn’t sit through or do before.  You graduated with a bachelor of science, we had our first child, we bought a house, life was normal.  I stopped worrying the other shoe would drop.  During this time my dreams were coming true and

It was easy to choose you.

Before our first born’s third birthday, we learned she had a severe developmental delay.  Those tears that seemed to come without end came again and I was lost and devastated.  Where I was weak, you were strong.  Where I was sad,  you had hope.  Where I felt the weight of the world, you let me share it on your shoulders and eased the burden.  You were my rock and as I would close my tired weary eyes bloodshot from searching the internet, I would fall onto your chest and

Choose you.

A decade, a fifth wheel, a jetski, and two kids later you decided to go off of your meds.  I was anxious and you listened to all of my concerns.  We had a plan and a safe word.  Three months later after the summer of our lives, you had your second manic episode, a felony, and a wake-up call.  I knew I could get you back and every day I visited you in the hospital, sometimes twice a day and I would leave a sticky note for you that you would put on your room wall to remind you that

I still choose you.

I knew being back on medication would fix everything, but then a dark cloud floated above our home and left you sad and empty.  Nothing I could do or say could bring you back to me, and even though you were physically there, your eyes were empty.  After the long winter, the medication that once kept you stable for 10 years stopped working. Mania came back and shooed the dark cloud away, but also brought with it delusions and hallucinations.  Another hospitalization and I thought I would do what I did before, but you didn’t want to see me this time.  I would visit and you would send me home.  I didn’t know what to do, but

I still chose you.

You still chose me too, but once the mania faded the dark cloud came back to visit.  I don’t know how long it will stay.  Sometimes I pray so hard that I see the sun find its way to us again and I think everything will the same, but the cloud is thick and covers it up again.  I see you try day after day, and I want you to know, I’ll never give up on you because you’re worth it.  You are always there for me, even with bipolar and I promise I will always be there for you.  And even though you feel I would be better off with someone else, I want you to know that will never be true because I will never, ever stop fighting and

choosing YOU.

This is me showing you who I am when no else is around. Who I am underneath the loud laugh and the goofy stories. This is me willing to show all the parts I’ve been hiding. What I don’t want the world to see or know, the things I wrote when I was scared, what I wrote when I was broken and the words I wrote when my tears filled the pages. This is me ready to tell everything you want to know.

This is me asking you to be my best friend. So I can tell you everything. So I can trust you with all my deepest secrets and share my life with you. I want you to be the person I call when I need to vent and the person I run to when I need to feel understood. I want you to be my best friend so I can have the privilege of being that person for you too. I want to be your best friend too. I want to be your person. I want to be loyal to you. I want you in my life forever. I want to make you feel safe. 

This is me trying to introduce you to a different kind of love. The kind of love that accepts all the parts you hate about yourself. The kind of love that writes poetry out of your pain. The kind of love that sees your scars and still thinks you’re beautiful. The kind of love that you don’t have to question. The dating a bipolar girl thought catalog of love that will stick around when you’re used to people leaving.

This is me choosing you. This is me putting you first and giving you my undivided attention. This is me getting over all the old games and the meaningless flings and being real with you. This is me promising to answer all your questions and tell you the truth behind every lie. This is me wanting to love you without breaking a single piece of your heart.

This is me giving you a piece of my heart that I haven’t given to anyone else. This is me handing it to you hoping you’d accept it. This is me giving you a giant piece of my heart knowing that it’s only a matter of time before I happily give you my whole heart.

Dear Husband,

I never knew when I married you 12 years ago that you were dating a bipolar girl thought catalog and neither did you.  We were young and in love, and our love story was turbulent but beautiful.  I figured no one else was as passionate as us, so dating a bipolar girl thought catalog we were in love with were REALLY in love, dating a bipolar girl thought catalog, and when we hated each other, we REALLY hated each other. In the end though, my heart always knew, and so

I still chose you. 

Nine months after we were married and you started hearing things and seeing things that weren’t there, I didn’t understand what you were going through and didn’t know it was because of bipolar. I tried to respect your delusions and listen with seriousness until the night it was all too much and we found you surrounded by police, barefoot and afraid.  They misdiagnosed you that night as having schizophrenia and I sobbed tears that I thought would never end, but they did, and through it all,

I still chose you. 

We figured out you had bipolar disorder and you gained weight because you refused to get them adjusted and to see a psychiatrist, but you got better.  A lot better.  In fact, so much better you went back to college, something you couldn’t sit through or do before.  You graduated with a bachelor of science, we had our first child, we bought a house, life was normal.  I stopped worrying the other shoe would drop.  During this time my dreams were coming true and

It was easy to choose you.

Before our first born’s third birthday, we learned she had a severe developmental delay.  Those tears that seemed to come without end came again and I was lost and devastated.  Where I was weak, you were strong.  Where I was sad,  you had hope.  Where I felt the weight of the world, you let me share it on your shoulders and eased the burden.  You were my rock and as I would close my tired weary eyes bloodshot from searching the internet, I would fall onto your chest and

Choose you.

A decade, a fifth wheel, a jetski, and two kids later you decided to go off of your meds.  I was anxious and you listened to dating a bipolar girl thought catalog of my concerns.  We had a plan and a safe word.  Three months later after the summer of our lives, you had your second manic episode, a felony, and a wake-up call.  I knew I could get you back and every day I visited you in the hospital, sometimes twice a day and I would leave a sticky note for you that you would put on your room wall to remind you that

I still choose you.

I knew being back on medication would fix everything, but then a dark cloud floated above our home and left you sad and empty.  Nothing I could do or say could bring you back to me, and even though you were physically there, your eyes were empty.  After the long winter, the medication that once kept you stable for 10 years stopped working. Mania came back and shooed the dating apps for sex reddit cloud away, but also brought with it delusions and hallucinations.  Another hospitalization and I thought I would do what I did before, dating a bipolar girl thought catalog, but you didn’t want to see me this time.  I would visit and you would send me home.  I didn’t know what to do, but

I still chose you.

You still chose me too, but once the mania faded the dark cloud came back to visit.  I don’t know how long it will stay.  Sometimes I pray so hard that I see the sun find its way to us again and I think everything will the same, but the cloud is thick and covers it up again.  I see you try day after day, and I want you to know, I’ll never give up on you because you’re worth it.  You are always there for me, dating a bipolar girl thought catalog, even with bipolar and I promise I will always be there for you.  And even though you feel I would be better off with someone else, I want you to know that will never be true because I will never, ever stop fighting and

choosing YOU.

By Ari Eastman,

So I told her to eat her favorite things
Followed by foods that make her stomach hurt.
Do it at the same time.
Never be sure which one you’re getting.
Be blackberries and flavor,
Be sky high messages written by airplanes.
Look like prom night.
Be drunk on your own personality.
Feel like everything is possible and it will all happen now,
Right now.
Jump outside of your skin and stay up all night planning your big idea.
Love someone so much you are convinced your heart has exploded
and will rain down into millions of glittery bits
covering his bed
and face.
Taste everything right now.
Taste nothing right now.
Fall down and cut open your knee.
Sit in a pool of blood.
Do not care to call an ambulance.
Do not care for much of anything.
Do not remember how to say your own name
Because it feels like it belongs to someone else.
See a garbage can lifted into the air,
emptied of all contents.
Think that’s what you must look like to others.
Lacking your insides.
Forget how your manic tastes.
Invite your depressive inside a blanket fort and stay there.
Stay there.
Move.
Stay there.
Move again.
Press restart.

For more from Ari, be sure to follow her on Facebook:

---

Ari Eastman

✨ real(ly not) chill. poet. writer. mental health activist. mama shark. ✨

I’m going to start this off by being completely honest; loving someone who’s bipolar is extremely hard. It takes a lot of patience, understanding, and unconditional love. So let’s begin.

1. The slightest things will set them off. What may not seem like a big deal to you, will most likely be a big deal to someone who’s bipolar. You need to refrain from doing things that could set them off. Whatever makes them uncomfortable, don’t do it. Whether that be not going to the bars with friends anymore without them with you or not hanging out with the opposite sex alone, dating a bipolar girl thought catalog. Nothing is worse than having someone who doesn’t try to work with you and make you comfortable in a relationship. You need to find out what their triggers are and try your best to not set them off. Yes, it’s hard but let me tell you, nobody is going to love you more unconditionally than someone who’s bipolar. We know what it’s like for someone to leave because of the problems going on in your head and we strive to make the mess in your head less hectic.

2. Their jealousy will be over the top. Being bipolar, our emotions and what we feel are more extreme than other people. Therefore, the jealousy we feel can consume us and at times become unbearable. Please don’t make us feel bad for getting angry with you if you’re hanging out with another girl or out at a party. Thoughts will invade our minds and make us think of things that aren’t true. Just text often and even call for reassurance. Tell us you love us and that you only want us. But where comes extreme jealousy, comes extreme love. And my God do we love.

3. They’ll say things they don’t mean. When we feel an emotion, we feel it to the core. Anger turns into madness and depression turns into darkness. We’ll get mad over things that seem irrelevant to you and might say things we don’t mean. But remember, we don’t mean them. We will try our best to make up for whatever we said because it kills us to hurt you in any way. But where there is anger and sadness, there is happiness, dating a bipolar girl thought catalog. And nothing is more beautiful and wonderful than the happiness from someone who’s bipolar. It dating a bipolar girl thought catalog light up a room and bring a smile to you face. Remember those times when we mess up with our words.

4. They lose control. We will flip a switch in simplest terms. We can go from being happy to being angry to being sad in dating a bipolar girl thought catalog matter of minutes. We can’t stop the switch in emotions and it will make us want to die because we don’t want you to have to deal with it. We will bawl our eyes out and hate ourselves because we can’t stop ourselves from yelling at you over something that upsets us. Self destruction can accompany this loss of control. Don’t get mad at us. Hold us and tell us that you’re not going to leave no matter how hard it gets. We will have the utmost respect and gratitude towards you and when you’re the one losing control, we will stop the insanity going on in your mind. We will calm your soul and give you every part of us. We will give you unconditional love.

5. They will get overwhelmed. Being bipolar is extremely mentally draining. We get tired of the shifts in mood, the reckless behavior, the irrational thoughts; we just want to shut our minds off but we can’t. We’ll break down and want it all to be over. We’ll become suicidal. We might even try to hurt ourselves. When we get this way, wrap your arms around us and hold us tight. Remind us that we’re worth it and that you love us. Nothing is better than hearing those three words, “I love you” and getting a kiss to take away the pain.

Don’t give up. It’s worth it in the end. I promise.

She is wearing a bright blue sweater underneath her white coat.
Her hair looks like it has tiny flecks of purple.

Royal,
she seems.
I like her.
She is soft, dating a bipolar girl thought catalog, but assertive.
Her touch is warm as we shake hands,
and I am not afraid of what she will tell me.
She asks me questions.
Her cerulean oceans staring into my emeralds,
Dating a bipolar girl thought catalog am not uncomfortable with my answers.
And neither is she.

The words I have long suspected materialize in this space.

Bipolar Disorder:
a manic-depressive illness characterized by unusual shifts in mood,
Energy,
Activity levels.
The nights I am wide awake,
fueled by projects and ideas and burning potential.

I am burning.
I cannot sit still.
I am supernova,
always on the brim of an explosion.
There is ash on my fingertips.
I do not smoke.

The days I only get out of bed
because it is what society dictates,
and I am afraid of what silence will do.
I practice the blocking for my family,
I am one woman show.
A character, regurgitating her lines.
But alone, I dance with The Reaper.
I hide in a black cloak,
and run my skeletal fingers up and down his spine.

She says my brain is wired differently.
She spews words:
Genetics.
Prefrontal Cortex.
Episodes.
High-risk.
Suicide.
Talking Very Fast.
Fatigue.
Restlessness.
Problems with Decision Making.
Impulsive Behavior.
Overly Long Periods of Hopelessness.

Now, I do not like her as much.
I understand she is doing her job.
She is helping.
She is trying to help,
but she is not helping.
She is reading me like a manual.
Cookie-cutter,
I am not a singular definition.
Maybe my brain is different,
because I am supposed to be different.
I am supernova.
Burning.
Unlimited potential.
Something people study,
and research,
and marvel at.

This disease,
is part of me.

But it is not me.

It is not me.

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