The Mind Intruder
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My husband of 40 years was bipolar, although not diagnosed until we had been married twelve.
I wrote this poem as a way to honor his struggles and those of everyone involved.
Bipolar affects all ages, preferably the young. Stress can trigger a single episode. Add to that illegal drugs or steroids, which can also trigger mania. Bipolar is the most familial brain disorder. Ten percent can inherit this disquiet. Treatments vary, hospitalizations abound:all palliative, but no cure is in sight.
It steals silently in the dark night,
wrapping your mind into its arms,
telling tales of your majesty,
enhancing stories of your many charms.
Soon you feel on top of the world.
Nothing can get in your way.
Everything's perfect: you made it so.
You, the ruler of all your survey.
Money has suddenly grown on trees.
You talk ceaselessly, not eat a bite.
You ride along on the mania trip
where everything seems to excite.
Your opposite is depth of depression.
Ennui invades everything now.
You've come down with a terrible sadness;
the weight of the world furrows your brow.
Sleep becomes your only refuge.
About your dreams, one hasn't a clue.
When roused from sleep, you stare at TV,
and stare at the ceiling long periods, too.
This is the roller coaster of your life,
a ride one would not willingly take.
The ups very high, the downs very low,
the mediums you must forsake.
For those caretakers with a loved one
afflicted with this terrible assault:
you ride up and down on waves of their mind
because you realize no one is at fault.
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2021
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