We can’t Not Talk about it…we’re Bipolar Together

Alright ready for some fun?

yeah! awesome!

We are going to do one of those little visualization thingies.

Close your eyes (figuratively) and

Picture a big pit of toxic stinking sludge.

Like really get in there with your imagination and make it putrid…horrible.

Yeah. That’s good.

Okay now imagine that you’re in it.

Up to your head.


See we always have fun here.

Okay now imagine that you can’t handle it anymore and want out by any means possible.

Shouldn’t be hard if you imagined it right.

Now look around you

Up around on the edges of the pit are clean showered smiling people.

Maybe they are sipping Starbucks or mimosas

and chit chatting.

They don’t see you.

You like it like this.

Because who would want to be seen like this.

Especially because they don’t understand why

you don’t




Once in awhile one comes up to you and tries to help.

“You know if you just TRY harder to get out….”

“Wouldn’t you rather be up here with us?”

“Have you talked to your therapist about all of this sludge?”

and even…..

“It will get better. Hang in there.”

or if they have some clue…

“keep fighting.  you can do it.”

Now I don’t know about you but I would probably paste a smile on my sludge covered face and say thank you or some meek shit like that while in my head stringing together a long chain of “go fuck yourself” type thoughts.

But okay picture yourself in that toxic sludge again….

and here comes another person…blow dried…deodorized…shimmeringly clean and happy looking.

She bends down to you and whispers…

“It will get better. Hang in there.”

and you start thinking “yeah lady why don’t you go and…”

and then she pulls out a picture of herself

buried in the sludge.

You are shocked…

“Wait you were in the sludge?”

“Yes.  Still am every now and then.”

“I don’t believe you”

So then she describes the sludge for you and she tells you what it feels like to be buried in it…and she is so accurately describing what you are feeling that you notice your heart rate picking up…some feeling of life returning….

You think “Can this be true?  This isn’t just me?”


“She was in the sludge once and now looks….happy

she got out





She starts to walk away but you motion for her to come closer…she does, totally unfazed by the sludge that scares the others, and you whisper…

“I can hardly even admit this to myself let alone say it out loud….but sometimes…..

I just wish

I could


in this sludge




and then

I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.”



She smiles knowingly and gently and says..

“Yeah I know.  We all do.  There’s nothing wrong with you.  It is a perfectly natural reaction.


you have to



Again, you think “wow I can’t believe so many other people live through this exact same thing.

I guess I can too”

And then you ask her how you get out of the sludge and you start rattling off the list of things people tell you….is it

yoga or mindfulness or positive thinking or Cognitive Behavior therapy or talk therapy or breathing or journaling or practicing and attitude of gratitude..is it by being gluten free or dairy free or grain free or food free…is it by….

She stops you and says

“All of those things can HELP but none of them STOP or FIX anything. They can help you handle being in it but they can’t alone get you out.

What you need to do is hang the fuck on with all of your strength and


it can




We HAVE to talk about the sludge.  This doesn’t work if we don’t talk about the sludge.

Might as well go read a normie blog if we’re not going to talk about the sludge.

We are all in it.

We all know it.

We all fight it

Let’s talk about it.

Bipolar Together


Add Yours
  1. bipolarfirst

    I was not intending for you to think that I am that lady in the story…it was supposed to be like a general kind of a thing.

    Plus if I was making myself the lady then I would have said “shimmeringly clean and happy and GORGEOUS”



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