Sheer emotion fills his veins with black. Logic spits flames as a voice in his head. He sits at the edge and looks down below. "Get up, young man! You don't want to go, to spiral to the bottom. For at the end of this emotion lies only death, but I'm going to tell you you can make it not so. You don't have sit, at the edge of that ledge like your perception tells you so. Perhaps outside the box you're in the sun shines upon the snow? Sure, life is bleak, and many come and go, but outside of that box you're in the sun shines upon the snow. Have you ever seen it? Outside the box, where the sun shines upon the snow? I know you feel your pulse go by in every moment now, and you look off the ledge to see the darkness down below. Perception is a tricky thing when it seems so doom and gloom, but perhaps you only see that way because you are so low. Perception is a box, you see, from your eyes unto your brain emotions are a byproduct of the thoughts your head has made. Perception is little box that grows smaller when we are low, but until we look outside of it we will never see if the sun shines upon the snow. So how can you say it is the end, and can you truly know, if you've never looked outside that box to see that sun shines upon the snow? My point here is you are quick to draw but not so quick to know that all you feel is in this box where you sit with your fear and woe. But if you hear not one more word to heed before I go I would ask that you remove that box to the sight of the sunshine upon the snow." When I was 16 years old, I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1 Disorder. Bipolar 1 Disorder is a severe mental illness where those afflicted suffer from mood swings that range from manic highs to depressive lows. There are a few variations of the disease, such as Bipolar 1 and Bipolar 2, and I believe a few others. Bipolar 1 Disorder is categorized by the presence of psychotic features. Basically, the person afflicted by disease has mood swings so drastic that it can impair how they perceive reality. There have been times in my life in which I believed that I was a prophet or Chosen One sent from God or something bogus like that. The disease is caused because the chemicals in the brain are not balanced properly. Also, scientists have discovered a number of genetic mutations that appear consistently in the brains of bipolar people that are not found in the brains of those without the disease. Most of the time, simply getting from bedtime to bedtime is challenging. That said, I will probably also be medicated consistently for the entire duration of my life. All of this I have found empirically true. Since dealing with a disease that affects my perception of reality is often extremely difficult and requires much determination and strength on a daily basis, I have found that one thing has proven to be my voice of reason among the maelstrom that is Bipolar 1 Disorder. Writing helps me on a daily basis. Often, my perception causes me a great deal of pain. One day, I feel anxious that I have annoyed a friend, or perhaps I feel one day that I am worthless or that no one loves me. Maybe I feel that I am a joke, and that no one respects me, or that I will never escape my pain. Some days, if I am on the high, more manic side, I will feel paranoid, like people are watching me. In these times, when my perception is warped, I feel as if I am in a box. I try to reason with myself, but it seems that sense is far from me. That is often when I write. Sometimes, we don’t know what to say to justify the magnitude of what we feel. We stay silent. But, after a while, our hearts know what to say. Even if our minds don’t. If I am able, I write in one of my many small journals. If I am not able to do that, I write in a college ruled notebook. If that is not available, I always make sure to have my phone with me. The Evernote app is one of my favorites. I can open it at any time I have my phone, and I can write on the go. When I am trapped in the box, and my brain is in wild shambles, I open myself to the first thing that comes out of my mouth. I ask myself: “What is it you want to say?” Last night, the poem above is what I had to say. In the midst of the unrelenting Hell that Bipolar 1 Disorder, I write messages to myself. I wanted to share the poem because I thought there was a message that could be taken from it. Depression and Bipolar Disorders are some of the many mental illnesses categorized under what we call “Psychosis.” Psychosis is defined by the medical community as a state in which one loses touch with reality. We, humans, all perceive reality through our senses. For instance, our eyes see the blue sky and send messages to the brain. The brain then processes the information and determines that the sky is indeed blue. The brain, realizing just what a bright blue the sky is on that day, reacts in a way that makes the heart flutter and increases blood flow. Those reactions are what we call emotions. We live the entirety of our lives as slaves to that chain of reactions. That is what we call “perception.” I have dealt with my illness for almost eight years now. Along the way, I have learned about my disease and how it affects me. I had to learn psychological techniques and theories, and I also have picked up a few pointers of my own as well. Statistics say that about 5.7 million Americans are diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and about 15 million with some variation of Depression. In the poem, a young man sits at the edge of a ledge with a box on his head. From the way he sees it, he can only peer below him to see that the chasm is very deep and dark. There is, however, a voice on the outside of the box. This voice sits beside the young man, asking to take the box off of his head. You see, the young man can only see within the box and the chasm below. He cannot see outside of the box. If he could, he would realize that what he perceives in the box does not agree with what lies around him. Because of the box on his head, he cannot see that around him, the sun is shining on the snow. It is the tail end of the month of August here in northwest Georgia, which happens to be what many of us call our hottest month. With temperatures into the high nineties, I would love to have the right weather for snow. This young man, because of the box on his head, cannot perceive that all around him there is some kind of beauty. Everyone has or will see tragedy in their lives. Yes, life can be bleak. That is true. There will always be bad things happening; there will always be bad people doing bad things, and everyone, at some point, will go to sit on that ledge and put that box on their head. In the box lies pain. In pain lies agony. In agony, there is always the chance we will look down to see how deep the chasm is. At the bottom of the chasm lies death, and the box is there to make sure we see no other way. Perception works in that way. If our brains interpret the world in darkness, we will never be able to see the snow outside. The trick comes by understanding that what we perceive is not definite. It comes with the understanding that everything we feel stems from how you think. If you think you are worthless, then you will feel worthless. We must understand that the box of our perception is based upon what we think about ourselves and the world around us. The daily defeat of Depression and Bipolar Disorder comes by realizing that our perception is not always true. Life is only as dark as we allow ourselves to perceive. As we allow ourselves to believe, that is. If we never take the box off of our heads, we will never know if the sun shines upon the snow. And until we lift the box off of our heads, we can never truly say we know it doesn’t. If you are prescribed medication, I encourage you to take it and take with integrity. There is no shame in taking it. You are not broken nor of any less value for doing so. Basically, your brain has a problem. That’s it. There is no morality involved with a mental illness. It is far too pragmatic for that. There are physical elements at work inside of your head that results in the symptoms you feel. I take medication; I have taken it since I was sixteen. I will be twenty-four in March. Medication will not take the disease away, but it will make it tolerable. Some of us see therapists very frequently. A therapist is good, but their job is not to make it go away. A therapist teaches techniques. What I just wrote about is a technique I have picked up along the way. In summary, I call it “Thinking outside of the box.” When we realize that what we feel is caused by out impairment of reality, or that what we feel is a symptom of our illness, it is an opening for this technique. In this instance, breathe. In through the nose. Hold. 1... 2... 3... Now out through the mouth. Let’s walk around a bit. Let’s get you out of that box. I encourage you, next time the darkness is all you see, and you look down at chasm below; take a moment to hear that voice, and see the sunshine upon the snow.
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William F. BurkAward-winning author of fantasy, flash fiction, and poetry. Author of "The Heart of Hearts," a debut fantasy novel. Always writing, forever and ever. Archives
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