Bipolar: There is nothing righter than the disease

You may never find the peace you strive for
although you search perusing the many possibilities that can get you there.
Then there is a crack and pieces of peace cover the ground
but not the piece of the peaceful mind
just that piece of glass that cuts into your skin asking for peace.

Your beautiful mind is in pieces spread across the universe
A shining of a star flaring too soon, a soul lost in space and time.
Your beauty flows swiftly and pools, your beauty, your blood
your mind swims lightly in a sense of peace.
The sun reflecting but not off your once bright eyes mind and spirit
Just off of your blood lost.

There is a glimmer of hope that steadies you as you go deeper
into this magical place where the release of inhibitions seem to come so easily
and all at once you are hoping that feeling will not end.
You don’t know who is controlling what or when what is controlling you
but you don’t care the who or what as the heat rises to the top of your
at last peace, some kind of peace.
But as the heat subsides and cool air rushes in you see you are left alone
but you can’t possibly be alone, you had peace, where is it now?
Maybe you are alone. Could you be alone?

You may never find the peace that you strive for, for it may not exist.
But pick up those pieces baby and see if they don’t just go back together
in a different way to create a new beautiful piece giving you the peace you so deserve.

Love,
Mommy

My daughter suffers alone with her bi-polar, with only her guides; her demons that tell her “right” from “wrong”. Trust me, her mom and I try to help. I pray prayers to rival the Pope; I fully expect white smoke to fly at any minute. Here’s the thing with mental illness that I am just beginning to understand. There is nothing righter than that disease in the moment. Bi-Polar is the powerful cunt that holds all of the cards. I adore my angel. From the minute that little baby girl was placed in my arms at the hospital I was hooked but there are more days than not that I have no idea who she is. I keep telling myself that puberty is upping the stakes, if her mom and I can keep her alive through this maybe with proper continued treatment she’ll be okay… I hate the word okay. I want her to be better than okay. I want that brilliant light to shine as she goes through life. God has delivered an Angel who must fight incredible demons every day and one day she will triumph and wake up with peace. I hope.

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