So I've been gone for the past 4 months. Im sorry about that. Apart from tackling a very active bipolar brain, I also suffer from scoliosis. I went for surgery, to correct a 50 degree curve in my spine. What was life like before my surgery? Hard. To be in constant pain just because your not sitting correctly on a chair or a sofa, or to stand weird to suit the nature of your curve to avoid pain. What was my current status shortly after I found out about having surgery? Agitated depression. I couldnt hold the thought of being cut open down half the length of my back and singing "I am titanium" for the rest of my life. At this point, I was scared for my recovery, physically and mentally. I had never experienced intense racing thoughts for as long as 2 months. I was prepping myself for July to undergo surgery. For the first time I went to an appointment with my mum to see my psychiatrist and it was then we informed her and my care co-ordinator about the surgery I was about to have. 

 
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I have gone mad. I tell this to myself and one friend. It aint no secret. I figure there’s no point in trying to cover it up; it’ll come out eventually. But I’m trying to stretch out “Eventually” because it will come out to my family and friends in ways you may never expect. The once silent gone loud, strong yet weak, non judgmental yet impulsive on my part rather gives away that something is wrong.

But people really don’t like the word “mad”. In fact, most often, what people say to me is, “no, you’re not!”. Well, actually, I am. I’m bipolar and I’m mad.

So What Do I Mean By Mad?

Well, it’s in the dictionary isn’t it? Let’s pull out ALL the definitons of what mad means:


 
Ah ha! The human brain. One of the best organs in the body. It measures, it categorizes, it makes connections and it remembers the square root of 144. I’m constantly awed by its power, and to have that power is beyond compare.
But one of the annoying things that can happen to a brain is that something gets stuck in it. Whether it be a song, or a catchy slogan. Somehow, even through its great power and ability, the catchy hook of the latest mainstream song from the charts gets stuck inside some errant neurons and plays over and over and over and over again. Some tiring stuff.

And this causes a lot more trouble in my bipolar brain than it does for others.