1 Death With Bipolar

Pain shoots through the inside of my skull. I can consciously remember that the brain does not feel pain but this mind-wiping sharpness and intensity clear out any proper thought processes that I had before.

I arch forward, pushing my palm against my forehead.

<It's going to be particularly bad this time.>

The ever-present noise in my ears has also grown to an amplitude to that I can no longer ignore. I struggle to push through and bring a coherent string of words to mind in order to form a thought.

<I can barely stand it... Opening my eyes is so painful... I can only catch glimpses...>

I blink open my eyes to see, or what I think I see, a green pedestrian symbol indicating it is safe for me to cross the intersection. I have lived my life for over 27 years, and over half of that being diagnosed with Bipolar Type 1 disorder. Every doctor I have seen has remarked at how deep and pervasive my symptoms are. Some were inclined to provide a diagnosis with other disorders as well.

Among those doctors, almost all of them have also remarked their amazement in how well I cope with the disease. Many of their other patients would have succumbed to the pain, hallucinations, and mood swings. I overcame them with careful preparation, excess caution, and a force of will. My first goal was to graduate college, which I somehow pulled through. Afterwards, it was to get a job. With a less than stellar GPA, it proved harder than I thought it was going to be. My bipolar disorder did not help. With good reason, not many people are willing to hire someone with Bipolar disorder. Finally, everything has been focused on trying to create a regular life. Mainly, to keep my life in line enough to keep this job I struggled so hard to get.

<I have to go. I cannot miss... this... meeting. I -will- suffer through.>

I clench my teeth and start walking forward through the intersection. This is my first time having an auditory attack, hallucination, and migraine while in public. My typical excessively cautious approach to life is pushed aside for a few moments. Only a sense of urgency has successfully risen from the mire in my head.

I failed to notice the beeping that had stopped only a few moments ago.

I failed to notice the errant shape and position of the pedestrian light in front of me.

I fail to notice the unsteadiness of my feet as I walk forward.

I fail to notice the street swirling around me.

I particularly fail to notice that I am the only one venturing into the crosswalk.

In all but a moment, my vision tumbles from looking forward to looking into the deep blue sky.

<Why can I not move? Why can I not feel anything?>

Words come to mind and even slower than before. Finally I recognize that my body is losing warmth. Not fiercely like with a brisk wind. It is a quick smooth stream of heat being sapped from my core. Clarity finally clicks in.

<Oh, I must have been hit by a car. I am bleeding out.>

My mind feels clearer than it has been since I was a small child.

<I was always so careful. Made every precaution to make sure I did not endanger my family, friends, self, and livelihood. What else could I do when I cannot even trust my own mind with a sense of reality at all times.>

<When I feel good, I can swear everyone is smiling and laughing when, sometimes, I am the only one in the room with jovial attitude. When I am down, I struggle to get myself to do anything. Sometimes even watching a show can be too much effort.>

<How could I let a meeting, no matter how significant, push me to release my sense of caution and get myself killed.>

A mental sigh blows these last fleeting thoughts into obscurity.