Sonnet 296.89 – Bipolar II Disorder

DSCN2076  Sonnet 296.89

 

I don’t want to die, but I could care less

If I did.  Neither do I want to live

To see another morning of chaos

On this greedy globe with nothing to give

To all who see the world for what it is,

A poisoned prison.  A purgatory

For those like me carrying sins and cysts

Of the unforgotten wrongs from history.

My past squandered without any regard

Of others, of interests or consequence.

Not a thought of how my being would scar

Beyond forgiveness, absent of penance

Or absolution to bury my crimes

My eyes close hoping I’ve run out of time.

 

 

Bipolar II Disorder

Current Episode Depressed, Severe

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2 comments

  • Not wanting to die, but knowing the inevitabilty of it, leading to acceptance, to a kind of insouciance: what happens, happens. And hells yes, on some days it’s like “kill me now,” no need to go further into the depths of despair: joy, sorrow, happiness, sadness, all of a piece, I’m done, leave it at that.

    • Mark, your comment points at the normalcy of having a bad day. Much criticism is aimed at the DSM for making pathology of the everyday. In many ways disorders are defined by distorted and unbalanced human behaviors we all share. In this case, effort was taken to reach past the reflection on the inevitable toward depicting the distorted conclusion that death is deserved. Thank you for your thoughts.

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