Monday, May 30, 2016

A Stick In the Eye … Chapter Two

A Stick In the Eye … Chapter Two

Don’cha just love the ellipse? 
First this and … wait … then this other thing.

Now, after a bipolar relapse, what does the afflicted person do?  How do you recover from a triggered episode?  This is a tricky wicket.  Everything was just peachy, even sometimes remarkably good.  After all thinking of this neural affliction as being more a matter of beyond the ordinary, or having what are often extraordinary brain functions.  So … (why yes, another ellipse) this also often means the bipolar person can have flights of mania that can result in just incredible achievements. 

And others are amazed, incredulous, applause (yeyyyy….)  and the bipolarist (person with bipolar disorder - my own nomenclature) is also amazed at what they themselves have just done.  But truthfully those achievements can frequently seem almost out-of-body experiences.  Like, “That was me?  I did that thing (whatever the remarkable achievement might be).  It is confusing because when I do something that other people are impressed with, I find I don’t quite get it.  My mind is saying, “What’s the big deal?  What did I do now?  Did I fuck up – again!?”

When I react all confused at their praise, when I feel like people are staring at me or making fun of me, I just want to become vapor.  I want only to disappear.  “Stop staring at me!!!”  I’m not a Martian or something.  Please just back up, back away.  I feel like they’re crowding in on me.  And, they get hurt.  Their feelings get hurt.  They want to praise me and I act all funky and weird.  Often the result of this, is a strike against me, in addition to appearing to seem egotistical, now they think I’m a jerk.

Even the good parts, and yes there are good parts to being bipolar, can become bad parts.  One thing leads to another.  The bipolar brain focuses so intently at a task, that all the rest of the world just fades.  What is not of consequence becomes inconsequential or just irrelevant.  Everything but the task at hand is simply not seen.  Things get stepped on and broken, people get ignored or worse, misinterpreted.  If the misinterpretation is sever enough, it becomes a trigger and a big blast of shit hits the fan – at high-speed and oscillating.    Meaning – shit everywhere and on everything.

What the average, or ordinary, brain sees within context as almost meaningless, a bipolar trigger causes a knee-jerk reaction of massive totally non-proportional behavior.  What can be done after this happens, or what is called an episode?  The short answer?  “Not much.”  What is a bipolar persons worst nightmare becomes manifest and the price must be paid!  THE PRICE MUST BE PAID!

The epileptic has a seizure, the blind man knocks over an expensive lamp, the one-legged man stumbles into a prized vase and THE PRICE MUST BE PAID!  The culprit is obvious, the smoking gun is in hand, the blood is on his shirtsleeve and the price must be paid.  There is forgiveness; there is sympathy (no empathy, but lots of sincere sympathy), but only after the price is paid. 

All the afflicted can do is pay that price and try to get on with life.  That’s about it really.  Own up, admit guilt, offer apologies, beg forgiveness.  What is done, however, is done.  The stick cannot be unbroken, the bell cannot be unrung, the rope cannot be uncut.  The rope can be spliced, but it will always leave a lump, a scar where the cut occurred. 

The greatest warrior is the one who has faced the greatest combat.  The one who has been tested intensely over and over, who becomes the strongest, the most fearless.  That warrior must carry the results of those battles in their muscle memory; for the brain is merely an evolutionary form of muscles tissue.  “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.”  Yes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t painful as hell.  And, the ability to tolerate and absorb pain and remain standing, sword in hand is proportional to the greatness of the warrior.

“Time heals all wounds”, but while a person is in the healing process, time can seem to slow down until it seems to be stopped.  The recovery is long and the pain unrelenting, until memory fades and recompense is made and accepted.  Knowing that the cycle will be repeated; having this as absolute knowledge, is like carrying a piano on your shoulders.  Still, and I repeat, life is a miracle and everyday has the potential of being a marvelous gift.

Better to just grow strong enough to carry that piano, rather than “a stick in the eye”. 



©  Dale Clarence Peterson, 2016


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