Today I have decided to tell my story. I suffer from bipolar. I was diagnosed with the mental disorder over 20 years ago. I have been through alot. It has been a real problem most of my life.
It was triggered after I had my second child. It was a nightmare 😔. I ended up being hospitalized several times over the course of twenty years. I will do my best to explain the horror of it all. I remember having one episode after another. Each episode was very exhausting and dramatic. I would block out a lot of the different personalities and triggers of emotional dynamics. It was so 😫 tiring.
I will try to explain one of my episodes to give you an idea of it all. Well, it all begins with not taking my medication. It slowly turns into a horror movie. I hear voices and act out several different personalities in my mind. I begin to have spells of crying dramatically having thoughts of despair. I was on edge and going down a bottomless pit of not wanting to be here anymore 😪. Yet, in most circumstances I didn’t want to kill myself because an angelic voice told me, ” no” don’t do it! I say, “okay” most times. Smh.
In these drastic times I have family who did help me like my mother. And that was important and fortunate because at these times it is good to have positive support systems in your life.
In most cases my family would call 911 and have a rescue squad come get me. In this case, I can’t stop crying. I wanted to leave! I wanted to go away! My family would say that I was going to the hospital. My main support is my mother. She was always there for me.
Once the ambulance 🚑 arrived I felt like I was in a horrible movie. This has happened to me several times over the years. Yet on this particular case the ENT would come in from the ambulance slowly one my one. They see I’m distraught and incoherent. I don’t know who I was at this point. I’m yelling for no reason and crying for no reason. I can’t understand what is going on. The police also came in…and it got worse. They felt like I would hurt myself or others and so one officer threatened to taze me. I said please don’t..please give me some water to drink. They did.
They slowly calmed me down and then my casemanager came in to also help out.
They asked her several questions to understand why I was like this. She told them that I was bipolar. I am so sick at this point. I have felt supernatural powers around me. I would say, ” I see angels”. They weren’t really visible but a feeling of goodness and calming voices.
So this contributes and adds to my psychotic behavior 🤔. That is what I felt.
I want to tell you the experience of being INSIDE THE AMBULANCE 🚑. Once I get inside the ambulance I felt like i was being ported to an experimental place. I was scared!!!!!This particular personality in me was very informative. I was talking a great deal like I was literally someone else.
One ENT said that he had never seen anything like this before. I finally got to the emergency room. Once there I begin, to yell and bring attention to myself. The police 🚔 officers were staring at me. A guard was placed at the entrance of my room door. I was being watched for over 24 hours. After a while a psychiatric doctor told me I would be admitted to a room in the hospital.
Now, I was on the floor of the psychiatric unit. Once I was in my own room I was in a bed. In some cases I was given medication to help relax me and I would sleep for hours.
So this was a particular bipolar experience. The next day, after being monitored I had to learn and come to appreciate little things again. Showering 🚿, brushing my teeth, wearing a hospital gown, and being served my breakfast lunch and dinner. This was a safe place.
Once I stayed a couple of weeks I was let go. I had a team of supporters around to help me. I had a case worker, a psychiatrist, and medical doctor coming in to see me. I felt much better. This was going to begin to be a part of my life for over 20 years. It is hard. But I will say I’m currently doing ok. So remember you are not alone. Be positive. Find good supporters in your circumstances. I hope this helps someone. Thank you for hearing my story. I am beating bipolar.

I am the girl that can come off a bit clingy
Often scaring those who cross my path.
My thoughts may seem a bit stringy
Coming off to one like a bloodbath.
I will shoot for the stars
Providing those I love with my support.
Depending who looks you can see the scars
This makes some want to abort.
Giving my all with folks that let her through
As they becoming a part of the life.
There are pieces only few knew
I will occasionally show it all within a rife.
No one can tell me who I am
I do not follow a diagram.

Hi my name is
Nah that’s way too formal.

Hey wassup it’s ya girl
What am I a radio personality?

Hi. I’m LaShae.

Wait. Yeah that
That feels comfortable.

Hi. I’m LaShae.
La like the note
Shae like the butter.
And I’m
. . .
Blank

God says,
I am that I am
But if I said it
Would it be blasphemous?
Even if I am?
Because I am that I am
And
I am Joy.
I am Smile.
Brittany said it was creepy
That I smiled so much
But Brittany didn’t know
I hurt the same ways she did.
She didn’t know my smile
Was as much a resistance
As it was for her to get out of bed some mornings
She didn’t know
I kept my smile because
Tracy loved my smile.
Tracy loved my smile!
She said it was the most genuine smile she’s ever seen
Which is the best compliment
Because her smile
Was the most genuine I’ve ever seen.

I am peace
Except when I am hungry
And I am always hungry
Beware of Junior’s warning
You better feed that gal;
I am gal.
As sister says,
When hungry,
I am Hulk;
I am pitbull.
Ya girl just likes to eat
But when I am fed,
I promise
I will be peace
Like Mable taught me to be
Peace:
Not the absence of violence,
But the presence of Justice.
So if no Justice
No peace.
I am starving
Pitbull for peace
Ready to Hulk smash oppression
See, Mable
Mable was a child
When Newark went up in flames
See
You don’t watch your home go ablaze
And end up staying the same
No
You arm yourself
Yes, with the whole armor of God
Like your mother taught you
But also
With a thicker skin
That none of this heat can penetrate
And with a weapon
She chose a pen
Much mightier than a sword
Her ink writing for peace
Not the absence of violence
But the presence of Justice
Her ink filled with the blood spilled in her streets
And then she would come to teach
All the little children, and yes, even me
That the power is in connections
That is what Mable taught to me.

Barbara taught me to hold my own.
Pete told me Fret Not
But Pray if you feel alone
Latierra and Ricky
Both taught me to wonder
And Serena taught me
That dancing is greater than pain
Ali taught me God will find you
Even if you’re in the dark.
I never met Maurice,
But his love is always in my heart.
Ulysses taught me always learn first
And Davey taught me to dress my best
Even when they do their worst
Ron & Vette taught me to be loud
Lisa and Al taught me love knows no bounds
Dog taught me to keep my friends close
Mo taught me that royalty
Can come from a crack that bloomed a rose
And Holis, God rest his soul,
May not be blood
But taught me what a man ought to be

I know you asked about me
But I am an unfinished story
The moral of my life
Isn’t complete
But I am that I am
And I am pieces of
Every person I ever lost
A puzzle
Amassing to one lone thought:
Love.

2922 days, 417 weeks, 96 months,
the 8 long years it’s taken for me to know you,
was this born of hate?
is that why i find myself as resentful as i am?
i could never be numb to you,
i could never be apathetic to you,
i could never feel nothing for you,

hate or love,
hate or love,
hate or love,
and i can’t understand what’s in between,

there’s a house stoic hill,
woodland lonesome edelweiss,
just as you’d like
to which i arise,
to which you descend,
i dream about when i’m in the snow,

the house lives and breathes when i could feel the grass on my feet,
i heard you sing through a window ajar,
songs of seraphina,
you are the indescribable view of beauty,

as i open the front door to let myself in i kick the glue from my boots that keep me in place,
i step into rot and decay.
i feel the candles extinguish as i walk past,
i hear the weeping angles,
i smell the cankerous taxidermy,
my hands freeze from the arctic bite of the door handle as i let myself open to discover the indescribable,
asphyxiating from my ring you wear on your neck,
bleeding from my bite on your shoulder,
pale deficient from the dying sun,
the discord that drips from the welt of monstrosity,
why won’t god keep it out my head?
vomit inducing horror i would sooner be blind than see
disgusting shape of unknowable inhumanity,
emotion formed action,
building mountains on your skin,
you moan in pain from knowledge of thyself
but was it me who clipped your wings?

Hey, you, old man.
This is a letter to yourself and from yourself.
You know all those things you’ve done wrong,
Regardless of who’s fault, or who’s right or wrong.
But this is not of that my friend…
Yeah, it’s amazing.You can call yourself friend now, but you are! ♥
I know those things I put myself and others through.
I remember the dreams and aspirations.All the good things I had for you.
Looking back is confusing and God it just makes me cry.
But I’m gonna try to leave You out too.Because this is a letter to myself. To maybe find out why.
But God I can’t, I can’t look back Because it hurts too much…
I can’t go to the beach, I can’t go to school, I can’t go to church, Sitting bereaved, I feel a fool.
But Lord, I can’t do it, I cannot watch.
Cannot go to Toledo. Cannot go to Cleveland cannot go back to jail, God what am I believing?
Cannot run to West Virginia, cannot hospital trend…
All along.I hated myself, yet all the while was a good friend. ☺
I can’t even write.I’m sorry I can’t do this.
All along my life, it was my own mark I missed.
But that’s a good thing because i’m not in hell…
Only I could see my place where ever if I made, could never get bail.
I’m sorry, no can do.
God thank you for saving me from me.

Once again//I lay awake,
Light passes through dark stained glass skin,
A mirror, a chisel, a key,
The door behind swings open,
And why should I not have that which I desire?
I trace her steps.
//
My amethyst heart pounds violently as I maneuver through corridors of crystal,
Glassy tears break into marble pieces/my feet don’t bleed from shards,
I stare down at the marble Staircase in the Glass Castle,
Statuesque like meter in the frame,
And it was beautiful.
//
Never more/I fall asleep
The ugly lustre of my body devours the room,
A reflection, a thought, an emotion,
I close the door behind by me,
I know not what I desire when my body desires my mind,
I return to the room.

At my worst, it’s felt like I’ve been swimming through my molasses. The storm has passed, yet fog remained. Echoes blurred the vision of an aimless vagabond.

I cannot see; still, I love my eyes

GRIEF
By. Kristina Gregson
Grief is a hard feeling to explain.
One does not truly know what to expect, until they are actually going through the pain.
The pain in the pit of your inner being.
The ache in your heart, feels like it could stop beating.
Your whole body aches with pain, leaving one feeling so drained.
Right down to the blood that flows through your veins.
A hurt, an ache, that can only be described as deep deep sorrow.
One that you know you will still have when you wake tomorrow.
The feeling of loss, the wish I would haves,
The wish I could haves, the wish I should haves,
That feeling of so much wasted time, that could have been spent with better rhythm and rhyme.
More smilies, more hugs, more laughter, more love.
More calls, more talks, maybe even a walk,
More dinners together, more special times.
That is what you wish when your loved one has ran out of time.

Dear Grandpa,
It’s been 11 years snice you’ve gone. I can still remember the night being so peaceful, so still, and so cold. I remember the day we laid you to rest. The snowflakes that fell that day were the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. I wanted to be one of the few who go to carry you to your final resting place, but I watched instead as my brother, cousin, brother in law, and a few others carried you instead.

I’ll never forget when my 18th birthday rolled around and I eagerly went to the gas station and bought a can of your grizzly wintergreen chewing tobacco. I took it to you grave and had lunch with you. The sun was shining and I was happy enough even though you weren’t with me anymore.

You were my best friend. The amount of days I skipped school just to hang out with you nearly cost me my graduation. The people at school frowned upon the week I missed when you passed. Said I shouldn’t have been gone that long and that I needed to be there from then on. What was I supposed to say? Grief has no time limit and I wasn’t capable of dragging myself out of bed to go be around people who never understood me. You always did though.

I wonder what you would think of me now. Would you still be proud of me? Would you still be able to sit in silence with me and just watch the tv? Would you still be able to look me in the eyes and tell me everything was going to be ok? You were my safe place in this world and even though it has been 11 years my heart still hurts. I yearn to hear your laugh, see your smile, and feel the warmth of your hugs.

I love and miss you so much, Grandpa.

Dear Tay,

Two disclaimers about this piece before I shoot my shot: actually, three. This is not a letter to Taylor Swift, not a ploy to be your man, and I am not calling you Tay to embarrass you!

So, who am I talking about? Two people, Taylor Rooks and Joy Taylor, both of whom are Black women in sports.

When thinking of these women, I won’t lie, they are very physically attractive and some may claim that this is why they are on TV.

They recently collaborated, co-hosting their podcast called Two Personal. Rooks and Taylor do a great job at their “daily job”(talking about sports) and giving a voice to others to express themselves.

In this joint venture, the duo are unfiltered, authentically highlighting the ups and downs of being a minority, especially in the sports world where being judged for superficial characteristics is the norm.

In the first few episodes, they have discussed topics that are, well… personal.

The episodes have included subjects such as pregnancy.

The theme of each episode is not why I am attracted to it, it’s that my personal takeaway is:

No matter what sport they are covering, the leading story about Tayx2 is not about the work the women do in the sports arena, to me, they portray that being a proud Black woman is what they want people to talk about when the conversation about them starts.

I’ve stated this before: sports was a way for me to hold my emotions in, and yes, you would be pretty hard-pressed to convince me that the final seconds of a game where the 16 seed has a chance to push off the 1 seed from “the dance floor” (March Madness pun) is not more heart-throbbing than when the final rose is given out in the Bachelor series.

But the two can co-exist.

So, thank you Joy and Taylor for showing that talking about the final few seconds of the game does not have to be substituted for talking about the first few seconds of my life. They can be on the same team “dancing” together!

Much Love & Respect,

Jake April

Photo credit: Two Personal Instagram Page