[Author’s Note: As part of the #BareYourMind campaign, here’s a story of my experience being bipolar. If you struggle with mental illness, I encourage you to share your stories as well. Let’s work together to de-stigmatize mental health in our society by giving it a human face.]
I strode down the street, electrified.
I was a walking live wire. If someone touched me, I knew they’d be struck dead on the spot. A fitting end, considering I was in the heart of Philadelphia. I imagined I was Ben Franklin, fresh from the famous kite-and-key experiment, lightning still crackling along my skin.
It was one of those early Spring days where Mother Nature doesn’t know what to do with herself; she was hitting us simultaneously with warm sunshine and a chill breeze. I could relate, because I was also all over the place. I looked up at fat clouds scudding across a sky so iridescent it was practically Day-Glo blue.
I tilted my head back even farther and bellowed a laugh at the sight. There were people around me who looked up suddenly and stared at me. I considered their reactions to be awe and envy, rather than noticing they were watching me with concern and giving me a wide berth.
I had been similarly unaware of how uncomfortable I had made my coworkers feel earlier that day. It started with the receptionist. She had asked me if I was okay after I stood for ten minutes just staring down Market Street. We were on the 28th floor, and the view towards City Hall was particularly amazing for some reason. I pitied her for being pedestrian. If she could only see what I see: the meaning in the seeming chaos of the milling people below, the deep significance of every bit of trash blowing in the wind…
But the receptionist broke the spell. She was a kind older woman, with eyes always warm with motherly concern. I grumbled “I’m fine” at her and slunk back to my desk. As I walked, time seemed to slow down, until it was like I was in one of those movie scenes that introduces the cool-as-hell action hero. Yeah, I was the hero of this movie we call life.
My boss was standing at my desk, waiting for me. There was a frown on her face, just for me. I smirked inwardly. As she talked to me, her voice devolved into that “waa waa waa” sound that the parents make in the old Charlie Brown cartoons. At that moment I really struggled to care about her opinions, not to mention my job.
Then, I started to shrink. Well, it felt like I was shrinking. I believed I was getting smaller, my perspective shifting so I was looking up at my boss, who was normally eight inches shorter than me. I could feel myself compressing. Little did I know I was on a serious hallucination trip. I could feel pressure building in my head as my body felt like it was being squashed into the floor.
I have to get out of here, I thought frantically.
“Uh, I don’t feel good,” I said to my boss.
Her frown deepened, but she told me to go home. I grabbed my things and bolted from the building. I burst into living fire when I hit the fresh oxygen of the street. Little did I know how badly I was going to flame out.
Continued in Part 2…
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