GROUP THERAPY (And Seven Other Confessions of a Bipolar Girl)

Treading water

You ignore the sign

because the beach is enticing

You dip a toe in the foam

And slowly walk in

The water stings your upper thighs

But the cold is refreshing

You dive until you submerge

But then the tide begins to change

You find your toes unable to touch

An undertow pulls your legs from you

And soon you are in the middle of the ocean

The sign read no swimming

 

 

Group therapy

An ant can carry fifty times its weight.

Imagine a colony of them.

But if they try to carry something

that is heavier than combined,

do all the ants struggle,

or just the one who went first?

 

 

 

 

Unfinished

 

 

I cheated on my boyfriend

because I wanted to know

what it felt like to ride

in a jeep with the doors off

and no seatbelts.

I wanted to feel the crunch

of chilled grass on my back

when we had fast sex behind

the water tower. It was so cold.

I defied my lungs with a

cigarette between my fingers

and coated my tongue in warm beer.

I had never had a beer before.

I guess it was supposed to taste

like stale bread. I wanted to love it.

I wanted to love him, not my boyfriend

and have sex without a condom,

take part in the great chase.

Why were things so easy?

I wanted to be ravished, like I was a bad girl.

I was a bad girl

licking cocaine off his teeth

letting him rip into my hair

love making from fighting

declaring my passion

driving too fast

feeding my mania

never telling my boyfriend

who still doesn’t know

None of them know-

Why did I do it?

I didn’t have to face the aftermath

always needed someone

to love me I don’t

love myself and having a backup

I never want to be alone

eventually ruin everything

because I know I don’t deserve

 

 

 

Brace Yourself

The trees are upside down

and the animals do not talk.

Where is the noise?

Insect wings do not scratch

and the geese flock above,

an arrow pointing in direction.

The sun is too bright

yet it doesn’t cast your shadow

Where did it go?

Check behind that rock

and peel up a patch of moss,

its stems are too saturated.

The atmosphere is static

and the wind is sweet.

Where are your senses?

Lift your chin to the sky

and see the red of morning,

the scent of storm on your tongue.

 

 

 

Relief

Just for a second.

Imagine. No slipping bra straps or needing

to see the sun to sneeze.

Your sock never scrunching

under your heel, and water

never trapping in your ear.

Imagine. That eye lash coming unstuck

and not needing to search

for a cool side of the pillow.

A wardrobe of cotton t-shirts

that smell like mama’s chest

and feel like your childhood dog.

 

Lies

I can leave the house,

visit a friend who I haven’t seen

because my batteries are finally charged.

Hold a conversation, make eye contact

Stay for an extra hour past my bedtime because

I can wash the bedsheets stained

from a spot of mayonnaise that escaped

a Subway sandwich. No need for takeout,

or eating in bed for that matter because

I can survive the grocery store.

the sweaty man who is shaking cantaloupes,

the cashier who asks if I need paper bags

(I still forget to bring my own)

but I don’t feel guilty saying yes because

I can go to therapy sessions

where I have to tell the truth

to a therapist who knows I’m lying

but still tell her I have done these things.

 

Mania

The hills pitch the sun.

The last breath of night dissociates

back to reality. The world awakens

to a new personality.

Temperamental heat bounds in

through a cracked window,

adrenaline for the skin and lungs

to drink. The universe

is volatile and the earth vanishes

beneath both feet, but I am ready to fly.

 

Casted

At first, I could feel inside,

what was left of me.

Now there is nothing preserved.

A heart that does not pulse,

lungs that fold flat,

a voice that is just a scratch.

My face is a part of my abdomen

and my limbs have plastered.

I am a chamber of hallow ether

as the earth moves slowly around me.

 

H. Nicole is currently an MFA Creative Writing graduate student focusing on fiction and poetry. Her flash fiction work, “Robin Eggs” was published in Passengers Journal Vol. 1 Issue 3, and her poem “One Last Thing” was published in Sad Girls Club literary blog. Nicole’s work comes from her personal struggles living with bipolar disorder. While bringing awareness to mental health, Nicole wants her work to bring comfort to those who also struggle with the disease but have trouble expressing it through words. She also wants to encourage others who are bipolar to write their own experiences down in words because those are the types of stories and poems that need to be written.

Along with pursing writing, Nicole is a teaching fellow where she focuses on transfer of knowledge theory within first-year college compositional curriculums. She will also be teaching a section of first-year college composition this Fall 2021 semester where she plans to teach rhetorical writing through creative writing practice.

 

Mental Illness Awareness Week is October 3-9 NAMI  (National Alliance on Mental Illness)

• Tuesday Oct. 5: National Day of Prayer for Mental Illness Recovery and Understanding
• Thursday Oct. 7: National Depression Screening Day
• Saturday Oct. 9: NAMIWalks United Day of Hope
• Sunday Oct. 10: World Mental Health Day