Tipping the Scales

I wrote this a long time ago, but apparently it is still true. I hope one day I will find balance. It’s not perfect, but neither am I.


Sudden jolts hatred consume my soul
Over taking my senses and judgement
I lose control of who I am

I am aware, but do not know what I do or what I say
It is like being possessed by a forgotten spirit of non existence
An excuse for the mind to wander into the depths of my insanity

I dive in and drown in the sorrow
It spirals out of control
out of my control
but I can control it

I will…
I must…

I shall go to my happy place
I am happy again
I am ecstatic
I am on the other end of the scale

I Enter hysteria
Tipping it downward
Back towards the depths of despair

I am back again

How do I get out?
How do I stay grounded?
My feet don’t touch the ground

I float or I sink…

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  1. Yep; that beautifully designed script sums it up. I don’t know half the time if I have angel wings or devil horns or both. They call it rapid cycling, but how these professionals will ever understand without being what they study so hard is beyond me. Keep necking the pills and hope what I hear and see really isn’t true. Peace D.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I had to read it twice, and I’m still chuckling. I spent the evening, and today involved in psychological rhetoric. Remembering the counseling and encouragement I received from the VA’s support system when I was depressed. I could use your poem as a poster for Bipolar disorder. But you already knew that, didn’t you.
    We create our most emotional work, I believe, when we are the least in control.
    Then, and every time, then, it just pushes its way out of us.
    Loved it; thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

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