Let’s get one thing straight, America, don’t fucking shame people who stop taking their pills. Every morning I take pills, I fight the urge to spit them onto the ground and listen to snake-like rattle they’d make when they hit the floor. Anyone and everyone who’s taken them states similar things at one point or another. It’s like that guy who wants his breath to smell like garlic because it reminds him of the feast he had, so he refuses any and all offers of tic tacs.

Except instead of bad breath, we replace melancholia and euphoria for blank-faced stares in various directions. Now, I’m not saying they always flatten you like a crepe in the streets of Paris, unless you’ve had your dose of seroquil, but when you have experienced human emotion in ways people can’t comprehend, it’s a little boring to float back to this little orb we share. I mean, come on, you can only get a coffee so many times before you start missing the way that milk steamer whistled as soon as the couple kissed next to you. Etc. etc. etc.

Okay, I’ll stop being facetious and get real with you. That’s the whole purpose of this blog, an uncensored rendition of Bipolar’s fucked up silly life plan. I’d say it’s a diet if pills didn’t make some people gain weight, I digress.

Each time I wake up and the few pills stare up at me, their arrangement like a face without a smile, I’m reminded of how sick I am. I’m reminded that I’d lose my shit and have and will again if I don’t take them. Even worse, the fact that they may not stop the beast due to my medication averse Rapid Cycling Features. I’m reminded that I’m not normal, that I have to feel them kick in within an hour. I’m reminded that the first hour of my day will allow my mind to relish in its clarity before the drugs smudge the glass.

Yeah, yeah. I’m thankful and all that bullshit, but can we just be honest with ourselves, all of my fellow polar bears out there, about these things our therapists make us worship(and trust me, baby, I worship these bastards most days).

It. Fucking. Blows.

Maybe I’m a little cynical, because recently my headaches have been absurd, my tremors wild like ants, and my inability to use my brain sometimes for the intensive research I’m doing. All while starting my own business and learning my 4th language. And you know what, it sucks.

I’m tired of blogs saying that ‘it’s all about hope. Take your meds. Be happy,’ but would a little honesty hurt? Because, we’re all about hope, but maybe a little truth could give a little more. It’s great having mood stabilizers, but sometimes I wish I could grant myself clarity. Some days I wish I didn’t have to feel them kick in and take away what I consider both a lethal and critical part of who I am. Some days I just want a single moment without the turbid sludge that slows me down.

Other days, I’m happy to have them. I’m happy they keep me stable. I’m happy they are a net I can’t provide myself. I’m happy they stimulate me into action. I’m happy they’re my friends. So, I tell myself ‘just take the fucking pills, la puta manera de ser a toda la madre al cerebro.

So, if you’re reading this, Polar Bears, take your fucking pills. Supporters, don’t ask if we have(unless we’re acting a little manic) but monitor it.

Above all, world, don’t judge people who exchange one hell for another. We take our pills, but it doesn’t mean we always have to sing like we’re on Children’s Show when we do. Some days it’s a mirror we can’t gaze into. Some days it’s a rancid blade pressed gratingly into our jugular, ready to cut a smile that bleeds. Some days, it’s a vibrant messiah. The truth is, you’ll never know what this shit feels like, and I hope you never do. But, please, don’t judge us. Don’t pretend to know what it’s like. Dont pretend that NyQuil is like Mood Stabilizers in its hazy effects. Don’t relate it to a ‘yeah, I was really down when my dog died,’ or, ‘I remember when I didn’t get any sleep and I felt loopy and out of it, too.’ Don’t do any of that. You don’t know what it’s like and we hope you never will, but you can stand with us. We don’t need words most days, enough swirl into galaxies in our minds already, but we do need your support.

And if we stop taking our pills to take the ride of our life, bring a broom for the confetti and a net for the crash.

We’re all in this together.

-J