it weighs on me

it weighs on me,
one million little pounds,
rake me across the coals
for seven empty minutes…

birthed again,
crashing into the world
literally less
than i was

even after all i’ve said,
and done,
i cry into the night

fill me in
make me whole,
let me stop
the constant search

put your hand on me,
trace my scars,
fill me up
with endless possibilities

shadowed potential
only reveals itself
when stumbling backwards
into my awakening

— glb

and i wait

i put myself into my own hands
i try to lift me up
above the miasma
and can only gather enough
strength to drag myself
through the stench

all the words say
“the only way out is through”
so i bear the rubbish and rust,
ask when it’s going to be my turn,
and count on the constant answer,
“you’re next, just hold on”
and i wait, i wait, wiat, wait
next never comes

i persevere
in love with my odds…

every single person that never tried,
didn’t succeed,
that one isn’t me
“am i next? is it going to be me?”
“yes son, you’re next, just hold on”

and i wait, i wait, wait, w-a-i-t


The Start of that Journey for Me

I can’t help but feel like the cat that ate the canary, I feel as though I am constantly improving (with a few bumps that have to be expected). Meanwhile, there are those out there that are still suffering. Whether it is something old or something new, I want to help as much as I possibly can. The problem is that when I when I try to get my mind around that task, I find myself being held back by the process of learning to live my life on the positive side. I have spent so much time down there that I am not sure how to be up here. I think there is a natural urge to just take my good fortune and run with it even thought I know that no matter how far I go there is the possibility of ending up right back down. What I need to do is figure out who I am up here and figure out what I have to do to stay up here. Once I do that, I think I’ll be able to give back. This is the start of that journey for me.

Off My Game

I feel like I have been a little off my game for the past few days.  I hadn’t given it any thought but this evening I gave it a lot of thought.  On Tuesday, in an effort to rid myself of hallucinations, or what my psych-doc calls “Visual Illusions”, we changed some of my medication around.  It doesn’t seem like much but I went from 125mg of Nortriptyline to 150mg and from 75mg of Amitriptyline to 50mg.  Now, the way the chemistry is supposed to work out the two drugs are supposed to be almost the same.  Amitriptyline is like Nortriptyline except that it also induces sleep.  Once the sleep causing part has been processed by the liver it is chemically the same as Nortriptyline.  Given that explanation, the adjustment being made should not cause any problems.  But, as we all know, med changes of any kind can be problematic.  So, if I ever actually had any “game” in the first place, this little change may be what’s whacking me about.  Hopefully things will get better over the next few days.


I am constantly searching for closure in everything I write.  Sometimes it works out, other times, most times, I start but do not finish.  But I had a thought.  My writing is not the only place I strive for closure.  I try to find it everywhere in my life.  What I am learning and trying to live is that life is infinite in it’s possibilities.  Gaining closure something I have aspired to for many situations in my life but it happens in fewer and fewer places.  So, I have to consider alternatives.  Maybe what I need is an answer, not necessarily the answer.  That would certainly go a long way towards answering questions I have about things in my Bipolar Life.  I don’t know for sure, and I may have mentioned this before, I believe that my encounter with Bipolar Disorder started on St. Patrick’s Day, 2003.

I know, I know… this again.  I think the fact that I lost my life for seven seconds on March 17, 2003 and that I started having bouts of depression after that may be an indication that something inside my brain took a hit that day.  Somewhere in the process of dying and being brought back set me on the path I find myself on now.  This is something I will never know the answer to, I will never find closure here, but I have to believe that I am on the right track.  I do find it puzzling that it took four to six years for the mania and psychoses to start but that will have to be a footnote to the story.

What does all of this have to do with getting closure in what I write?  Well, I think that it will be easier for me if I don’t always put the pressure on to finish what I’m writing.  Maybe what I’ve written is done without an extra paragraph, stanza, verse or line I’ve been working on for hours.  I’ll try it out and see how it goes.  Please don’t hesitate to call me on anything.

I am exhausted

I am exhausted,
not because I have
been doing anything
rough or hard or
physical, because
my mind has been
at work for a while
now, trying to keep
me from writing,
and explaining, and
talking about what
it was like to be lost,
that’s it, there I said
it, what are you
going to do about
it now?

I lost my mind, one
time, I don’t remember
it much, but I can
recall enough, how
something made me
weak, made me
susceptible, easily
coerced into losing
touch with reality,
everyone else had a
different reality than
me, I lost my mind!

It’s OK, it was just
that one time, it
went away, but
now it’s back, it
doesn’t try to keep
me quiet anymore,
I have these pretty,
colored candies that
I got from my friend
that I see once a
week, they keep my
mind from leaving,
most of the time,
but every so often,
it gives it a try.

I can’t sleep and
I can’t understand
a word anyone is
saying, take those
sheets off and don’t
come here, that’s
where I already am,
you have to let
me go, I’m not
safe, big hawks are
trying to take me,
but if I run they
can’t catch me,
I will run until the
hawks are all gone

there it is, my
mind was right here
the whole time,
now that I have it
back, it wasn’t lost
merely misplaced,
but it is here now,
so I am going to
go to my room
and have a nap

— GB