You are intellectual, witty, you’ve achieved A grades in some of the hardest subjects and you used to be such a delight. But you see Brain, this past year you’ve let me down. You’ve let the stress get to you and you’ve essentially destroyed my life. But, oh beloved Brain, you are annoying me by not making which bipolar period in easy. You went from moderately depressed in the day, to hypomanic in the evening and by night a wreck of depression. Dad says a few drunken comments and you’re severely depressed. Self harming, crying and then through frustration, anger and upset you punched the wall causing your middle knucle to swell and severely bruised the little finger. Why on Earth do you let him get to you so? He won’t stop drinking. Not for you, or I and yes dear brain we are two seperate people now as I want to become normal, regain my once composed look on stress and I had a bottle effect on coping with it, instead of slashing my wrists with a blade. Something you seem to love heartedly. Brain, I know it is not your fault, it is a diease called bipolar. I would not blame my liver or my lungs if they were to get cancer and you, Brain do have an excuse for having it. An excuse caused by me. I can’t pretend I am not sorry for you Brain, I sincerley am. But, couldn’t you try to rebalance those darned chemicals? For me? So what mood am I in Brain? I assume I am in a mixed episode but slowly going back up to mania? I hope this is the case and the mixed episode doesn’t last too long but if it does. Then let me keep my strength.
Brain to convey to you just how I feel, I’ve put an extract from a poem (slightly changed):
I must be pleased to be your friend
I haven’t really another choice
But you started a wickedsome game
What was the purpose of this game?
I never really had a chance to win
What emptiness awaits me? This I fear
Far more than any peril I might face
My purpose in this world became less clear
When you took my sanity from its cherished place
Causing a dilemma,
Do I accept the score that fate has set
And calmly watch the passing of my dreams
Or do I dare to place another bet
That where the curtain falls another rises
If I am wrong then strike me for my sins
But I believe our acts and thin disguises
Were but a prologue to what now begins…
This dear Brain, is about how you took my sanity and played it like it was a game and thus my dreams all seem so distant but do I dare to try and achieve those dreams so by betting somewhere else but if I am wrong strike me down for all my wrong doing but I truly believe that all the acts to cover up our true selfs with help from blatantly see through disguises is just the beginning of our story, Brain.
We have to learn to work together or it is going to kill us both.