Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 17, 2013 by bipolarblake

Yesterday was a rough day. My fiance and I got into it badly, I ruined a public outing, disappointed my brother, and let myself down. I’m pretty surprised at how the evening turned out. Friend got taken to the hospital, I nearly got arrested…

I’m mentally too weary and foggy to post details, but, long story short — I was way too drunk. I have sworn off alcohol for an unforeseeable amount of time, and am rethinking what’s meaningful to me besides the bottle. I’m nearly 26 years old. I can’t be acting like I’m still 17.

Note to self: Grow up, man. There’s more to life than the party.

Let’s see how this goes.


The Blessing and Curse

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on March 13, 2013 by bipolarblake

In a philosophical kind of way, bipolar is a blessing as well as a curse. It’s like I embody the concept of duality. I utilize and transmute both positive and negative vibrations because I have the capacity to experience both in full measure. And while I know the observer within me is neither black, white, nor dual, but every single one of those things at once (adaptation is crucial, one cannot be defined one relative term) I likewise know that my perception is not limited to any shade of gray. Because I know that “mood” is a chemical reaction, I don’t have to be subjective to their whims unless I choose to do so. Neither mania, nor depression, or any volatile mix of the two make up Blake. Those are just the baser expressions of ego — that groaning, whining, perpetually 2 year old entity that we consider so wise, ethical, what have you. I like to think (and know quite certainly) that the ego is not our main voice, it’s just the one we’re so attuned and accustomed to, it’s the one we pander and slave to because it’s incessantly noisy and chaotic — and we give in, like a beaten and impatient parent to a screaming infant needing a bottle.

 It’s become a learning tool, looking at myself from outside myself. I guess I learned to do that when “I” need a break from “me.” I know this sounds like the ramblings of a lunatic (and it just may be), but, it’s a powerful affirmation for me. My mind’s a malfunctioning, though not quite faulty unit, capable of accepting certain frequencies that some are closed to and rejecting those which a lot of people are so open to. I run on an older operating system, and am incompatible with many of the “latest updates.” I feel like a stranger in a strange land. I’m not always in control of the dial which is both maddening and enlightening, I ride through the crests and troughs I’m taken through and try to take notes while the brain is on autopilot. Sometimes I buck against the current and try to steer the wheels, but it’s easier said than done. Nearly impossible. Pharmaceutical companies have learned how to slow the ride down for us, but not how to take us off the tracks. I suppose it would be unwise to. We’d miss an opportunity to explore how deep that proverbial rabbit hole goes.

Work, or the lack thereof

Posted in Uncategorized on March 12, 2013 by bipolarblake

I received a letter in the mail the other day. It seems that I’m to go for some sort of appointment to be evaluated for my ‘alleged condition’. I’m torn on this — part of me knows this is a good thing in regards to the disability process, but part of me is very afraid to be under the looking glass by some doctor I’ve never met. I feel as though they’ll be checking my every response, glaring at me from critical eyes in hopes to somehow counter or dispel my claim at being bipolar to the point of disability.

I never saw this road for myself when I was growing up. I was like most kids as far as the career thing goes… “I want to be a doctor! Astronaut! Firefighter!” Or whatever the flavor of the week happened to be. Around 16, I landed my first job at a pizza place in the mall. I worked for 4 days, up until a busy Friday evening, in which I became so utterly panicked by the horde of consumers that I high tailed it out of there. Fast forward to age 25, and I’d had over 20 jobs. Maybe more than 30. I quit counting. Between the ups and downs of bipolar and the sometimes crippling anxiety, it’s an extraordinary feat for me to hold employment for longer than a couple of months. In my entire track record, my longest stretch of work was barely over one year.

I gave it a lot of attempts. I tried many different fields. Fast food, home care service provider, meat cutter, call center worker, freelancing, on and on. Nothing worked out for me. It’s not that I didn’t want to work at all, it’s that quite frankly stability is a big issue. Disability isn’t what I pictured, but I finally confessed to myself that I’m not meant for the workplace. Or maybe the workplace as it stands today is simply not willing to work very much with the mentally impaired.

Early April and I’ll be “examined”, I suppose, by this doctor the next city over. Not sure why the masses of paperwork from my mental health facility isn’t enough to satisfy them, but, I’ll jump through the hoops.

I feel like a failure though, I must admit. Or maybe inadequate. To me, the 40 hour worker is a hero, or a saintly figure or some sort. Or maybe just born with a neurochemical bullshit handling mechanism that I don’t have.

Dark Side of Me

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on March 1, 2013 by bipolarblake

Inspiration for my new blog layout. Nothing fancy.

Song goes out to my fiance, who understands me better than anyone else. I promise you, there is no weight that can bury us.

A month?!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 1, 2013 by bipolarblake

I realized it has been about a month since I posted anything here, so I wanted to try and record some life updates — because things like lists, blog posts, bulleted items et. al. bring me comfort and peace of mind for some oddball reason I’ll never understand.

The last major thing I talked about was moving. I’ve finished moving, unpacking, and am now settled in… it feels great. I told myself coming in that this would be where I get it all together: Eat better. Stay scheduled on meds. Exercise more. Study harder.


Truthfully, although I have a lot of reasons to be happy and although my state of mind is generally better than it has been overall lately, I have been a lot worse off in a lot of ways. The new medication has done wonders for my paranoia concerning certain “psychotic delusions” and “reality distortions” that I’ve carried with me for the past few years… I no longer feel threatened by things that were overwhelming me a matter of months ago (although the thoughts still persist, gone but not forgotten), but my anxiety has been hellish. Truly hellish. I withdrew from college for this semester to try and get on a proficient cocktail to manage my overall nervous nature… the thought of dealing with campus traffic and packed classrooms has become crippling to me. No one seems to understand why I’m this way, and it’s become a bit of a pet peeve for people to show such enthusiasm towards me completing school, as though it is genuinely simple. Less than 20% of bipolar people graduate. I don’t want to fall into that statistic, but if I don’t find that right blend of anti-psychotic, anti-anxiety neurotransmitter tweakers, I don’t know where I’ll be. I am definitely sick of feeling nervous about everything, though. It’s at the point where I fight sleep because I’m anxious about not sleeping well (despite all the ambien, weak ass medicine). How crazy is that? 

It’s hard being bipolar and being a student. It’s hard being bipolar and being in a relationship. Hell, it’s just hard being bipolar. But you know what’s harder? Knowing that people think you use that designation as an excuse for things. It isn’t an excuse. It’s an explanation. It just happens to be an explanation that isn’t good enough for a lot of folks.

On my mood tracker, despite some generalized depressing thoughts, I am fairly manic. I’m spending money like a mad man, drinking too much, am hyperly sexual, and have racing thoughts that are hard to keep up with which probably shows in this particular post. I don’t sleep worth a damn despite the meds. I have been greatly irritable with friends, family and neighbors and have had a couple of rage episodes over the past month. I’m trying to decide if I prefer this to soul-numbing depressive phase, but, truthfully, they both suck. I need a mini mental vacation. A legit one! Not one that’s chemically induced.

Well, it’s 3am. I’m gonna go watch some TV. Or go for a drive. Or something.

Right after I creepily read through some of you all’s blog posts.


Posted in Uncategorized on February 3, 2013 by bipolarblake

Sometimes the blogging muse strikes, other times she doesn’t. Lately I’ve been feeling under-stimulated and without inspiration — not necessarily because my mood has been bad (it really hasn’t been all things considered), just because things have been slow.

I imagine that once this week is over and I’ve moved into my new place, things will pick back up. Getting moved requires a lot of my attention right now. 

I miss and enjoy seeing people comment on my posts. It’s the freest and cheapest therapeutic value in the world. It shows me people out there care, even if from afar, or semi-anonymously, about my often trivial and mundane affairs. Love you all for that.

I’ll check back in soon. I hope this little post finds you all well. 

Let me just say…

Posted in Uncategorized on January 29, 2013 by bipolarblake


Even the worst moods have difficulty in the face of sunshine. I’m thankful today for warm, bright weather.