Someone Asked Me To Describe Bipolar Disorder

Unsplash / Caleb George
Unsplash / Caleb George

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. TC mark

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Ari Eastman

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

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