Setting Sail at Sea as a Cliché Bipolar Metaphor

I’ve never been one to handle the highs and lows of life well.

Cover art by Benjavisa Ruangvaree, edited by me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nrNKsNPqQU

I went on an amazing date…

And then found out later that night

That my partner cheated on me again

He couldn’t control his selfishness

Or deceitfulness for longer than a week

But had endless opportunities to be ethical

I was beaming…and then I was wailing

I finally accepted my queerness…

And my parents found out

Less than a week later

And broke up with me

Time for us to part ways

We just weren’t a fit

I was corrupting

The spiritual atmosphere of their home

I was soaring high

On self-discovery and acceptance…

And then I dive-bombed

Into a depressive episode 

That still persists and attempts

To drag me down with finality

I recently got an amazing job offer…

And then heard that my granny had 

A heart attack a couple years ago

I’d had no idea

Heard no adult whispers 

That betrayed the danger and their concern

I was jittery with excitement…

And then I was a catatonic

Wreck on the couch 

From the impact of news

Delivered two years too late

Sometimes I wonder if

Life is even more bipolar than me

But none of these turbulent events 

Can compare to the sharp divide

Within me

The roiling waves of emotion I ride 

Day in and day out

Desperately attempting to grasp any 

Semblance of sanity and stability

A lifetime of my hands

Tied behind my back

As the steering wheel spins wildly 

And the helm of my boat

Plows straight through 

Situations, finances, relationships

Leaving a wake of devastation

And shameful, tight-lipped apologies

“I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m sorry.”

I utter again and again

As I repeat the same pattern

Of self-destructive behavior

Again and again

Impulsivity gnaws at me

Chewing and tearing

A widening chasm in my chest

Can you see now?

The red rushing to my feet

Can you see my bleeding heart like you 

Hear the clichés I write

Dripping down the page?

Behind the smooth, detached mask I wear

Between my manic outbursts

And depressive episodes

I fight daily, bloody battles

Many casualties

Very little territory conquered

Most days end with seemingly sound defeat

And a lifted white flag

I surrender

I give in to the itch of irritation and anger

The high of impulsivity

The intoxicating joy of life and self-assurance

Then I lie down and let

Despair, self-loathing, and hopelessness

Wash over me

Between my breaths of elation

And anguished choking

I sometimes experience rare stability

Calm, smooth blue as far as you can sea

The sun might even emerge tentatively

Shining its song of reprieve on me

I turn my face to the wind

And I feel a bitter breeze

Watch storm clouds form on the horizon

I take a deep breath…

Inhaling strength and certainty

And exhaling doubt

Here I go again

This time

I will cover more ground

And persist a little longer

And when the waves rise

To meet and swallow me

Instead of fighting, surrendering

And drowning

I will inhale strength and certainty

And exhale doubt

I will dive into the depths

Of my fear and pain

And ride the wave