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Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Mazarita Thank you my friend, I love reading your interpretations.
It sounds like we have had very similar experiences. I agree completely, in that being bipolar has brought aspects to my life that have been positive and would never have materialised otherwise. 
Looking back, I think the good has far out weighed the bad, though I would vehemently deny that in the midst of a darker episode. I think that's where the writing helps. 
Wishing you a wonderful day my friend xx

 

BB 🐰💙

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Love the...I'm done with survival, my heart wants to thrive. So positive and uplifting after....but deep in my soul, is the child who still bleeds. 
This really speaks to me @bipolarbunny ❤️

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Former-Member Thank you my friend, I'm glad you can find a connection with my words. Hope you are having a nice evening. xx

 

BB 🐰💙

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Hey everyone,

@greenpea @Shaz51 @StuF @Mazarita @Appleblossom @Judi9877 @rivergal @frog @Always-hope @HenryX @Meowmy @Anastasia @Daisydreamer @EOR @TAB @Fizz @TideisTurning @BlueBay @Meggle @The-Hams @LostAngel @SJT63 and anyone else passing by... 


Back after a bit of a break. Found a tongue in cheek silly manic brain poem I wrote earlier this year. I wonder if it resonates with anyone. xx

 

BB 🐰💙

 

The Dance

 

A sweltering night,

And I cannot write,

I’m sweaty and bothered and blue,

My thoughts gone awry,

I’m thirsty and dry,

I feel like I’m broken in two.

 

Not happy or sad,

Not mellow or mad,

My mind wanders lost in a fog,

There’s silence but wait,

A noise hits the gate,

No doubt it’s the neighbourhood dog.

 

I’m trying to think,

But words never sink,

When trying too hard to be smart,

I itch and I scratch,

And stumble to catch,

My prose, when it’s falling apart.

 

Just one or two sips,

To loosen the lips,

Dear God, how I wish I could drink,

But how would that be,

If I set myself free,

I may end up locked in the clink.

 

Some humour you see,

Is all there can be,

When troubles are spread in your hand,

I’m flat out of time,

My meds in decline,

My eyes feeling heavy with sand. 

 

And so I must go,

With thoughts cranking slow,

And nightmares awaiting my stance,

It’s funny you see,

I never can flee,

But I’m glad, I’m not missing the dance.

 

© BB - 16 Feb 2021

 

 

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Hey,

@greenpea @Shaz51 @StuF @Mazarita @Appleblossom @Judi9877 @rivergal @frog @Always-hope @HenryX @Meowmy @Anastasia @Daisydreamer @EOR @TAB @Fizz @TideisTurning @BlueBay @Meggle @The-Hams @LostAngel @SJT63 and anyone else passing by... 

 

Here's another "odd" poem. I was thinking of Ned Flanders of all things when I wrote this. Sometimes I get a line in my head and the rest just develops from there. Oh the cray-diddly-cray of a bipolar mind. Lol xx

BB 🐰💙

 

The Cray-Diddly-Cray

 

You dare not to wonder,

How normal must feel,

A life that brings thunder,

Is simply surreal,

An ache in your quake,

Keeps the boring at bay,

You cannot surrender,

The cray-diddly-cray.

 

You wallow in pity,

Thy troublesome muse,

Will often get shitty,

With cognitive blues,

Some ice in your slice,

Keeps you chill from the fray,

You cannot surrender,

The cray-diddly-cray.

 

You fathom a future,

Where time is a blast,

No need for a suture,

To stitch up the past,

A pill for your ill,

Keeps the voices at play,

You cannot surrender,

The cray-diddly-cray. 

 

You bathe in the madness,

Where everything hurts,

Engulfed by the sadness,

Your weary heart blurts,

Put pain will refrain,

Long enough for your say,

You cannot surrender,

The cray-diddly-cray.

 

You dabble in danger,

That runs you adrift,

A tryst with a stranger,

More ashes to sift,

Your heart from the start,

Was set up for dismay,

You cannot surrender,

The cray-diddly-cray. 

 

You challenge perspective,

When things go awry,

Your inner detective,

Can spot a good lie,

A truth from the sleuth,

Can improve your whole day,

You cannot surrender,

The cray-diddly-cray.

 

You try to be clever,

With words that you drill,

You think now or never,

For fortunes to spill,

But sold is not gold,

For a published belay,

You cannot surrender,

The cray-diddly-cray.

 

You dare not to wonder,

How normal must feel,

A life full of thunder,

A soul made of steel,

Some walk in my talk,

And I’m worthy today,

I cannot surrender,

My cray-diddly-cray.

 

© BB - 22 May 2021

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@greenpea @Shaz51 @Mazarita @StuF @HenryX @Anastasia @Dimity @Former-Member @Appleblossom @frog @TAB@Judi9877 @Oaktree @ShiningStar @Adge @Meowmy @LostAngel @Zoe7 @Daisydreamer @Former-Member @TideisTurning @MDT @eth @Former-Member @Eve7 @Faith-and-Hope @oceangirl @rivergal 


Hello everyone, quick post tonight, verse I penned over yesterday & today. Winter is still beating me up, so I guess this is where my head is at. Hope everyone is travelling okay. xx

BB 🐰💙

 

Get Up And Go

 

My get up and go,

Just got up and went,

The magic was tragic,

I’m utterly spent,

Thrown to the hounds,

With egregious lament,

A chalice of malice,

By bitter dissent.

 

My go with the flow,

Just ran down the sink,

The ooze became snooze,

When I hastened to think,

As day turns to night,

And my soul hits the brink,

I’m cursed by the worst,

And there’s nothing to drink.

 

My need for some speed,

Just cracked through a wall,

The thrill for a spill,

Didn’t lessen my fall,

My mind clearly empty,

With room for us all,

To rage a new page,

In this petulant squall.

 

My fend for myself,

Left me lonely and jarred,

The smile on my dial,

Duly broken and scarred,

By lies and deceit,

From a desolate shard,

That crashes in ashes,

When life becomes hard.

 

My down in the dumps,

Got me frightfully shook,

My lumps became bumps,

As I snapped a quick look,

Of life in the trenches,

With no magic book,

The rules beget fools,

And I’m left on the hook.

 

My mad as a hatter,

Is on its descent,

I’d grieve for reprieve,

But I’m utterly spent,

Reality twisting,

My mind ever bent,

I’d get up and go,

But I already went.

 

© BB - 04 Jul 2021

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

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Good One! BB💙

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny  So true BBxx

 

Psychological Diagnosis of the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland | by  Natalie Frank, Ph.D. | Mental Gecko | Medium

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

So well written @bipolarbunny ..... 💞🌷

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Soo true and we'll written @bipolarbunny ❤