I’m bipolar.
And I will likely carry that name
for the rest of my life.
I’m bipolar.
Sometimes rage finds me
before awareness does,
and there are moments
I barely remember becoming someone
I never meant to be.
I’m bipolar.
There will be weeks
when mania lifts me too high
or depression buries me too deep.
I’m bipolar.
I feel everything intensely.
A delayed reply,
a different tone,
a passing glance…
my mind can convince me
you’re angry with me
when you’re not.
There’s more.
So much more.
But these are chapters,
not the whole story.
Bipolar is something I live with.
It shapes parts of my journey,
but it does not write my character.
I am still capable of love.
Of kindness.
Of growth.
Of laughter.
Of healing.
Of being fully, beautifully human.
This diagnosis is part of my life.
It is not the definition of my life.
And it is not the definition of me.
~R.N.Morabe
What’s a label you carry? How does it make you feel?