When I was 20 yrs old, and a student at a small University, I decided I wanted straight A's. A peer suggested I try some speed to keep up with my expectations. Holy shit. I was like a fucking honey bee gone horribly wrong. I got the grades. I also enduced my very first hypomanic experience. My friends and family didn't quite get what was going on. I decided I wanted to move in with my boyfriend. So, I showed up, unannounced. I think I looked mad all of the time. I didn't engage in conversation. I'd mix alcohol into the mix too, once in awhile. Bad idea. I ruined the relationship with my man, and with my roomate, and with my boss. Sometimes I think I just looked like I was on a very dedicated, serious mission. I was fucking mess. When I lost Mr.P (my ex) I decided to quit the speed. It was too late. Mr.P and I kept in touch once in awhile. I don't remember ever making sense to him, and I'll forever regret that. Anyway, that was the first episode of my illness. I was high as a fucking kite. What would take place in years to come, would change my life, forever. I forever will continue to struggle with my illness. It has brought out the best and worst of me. Look forward to many more stories, and perspectives from my "unquiet" mind. Have a good one!
My poetry teacher always recommends us getting drunk before we start writing anything! Its how all the old fashioned beat poets worked but by golly, it doesn't work for me. I just write nonsense when I'm drunk. So I'm not sure what she was on about!