I have often wondered how great musicians create their earth-moving music scores. I have tried musical expression many times over – and yet now a story seems more tangible, more methodical, and infinitely more lyrical. My choice of words and language over crotchets and quavers is the new medium I will use to portray the melody of my heart. And so here is my first attempt at what will hopefully be my completed music score, but this time serving the eyes instead of the ears. Music is the universal language but the pen is mightier than the sword and hence the reason for such a manuscript. Through documenting this I make the flux of emotional extremes more solid and rooted, able to withstand the violence of my troubled mind. Thus if I can leave you with one message from my written word it would be this; when the pain of adversity strikes find comfort in knowing you have the wisdom of a Sage and the strength of a Hero to get you through it – these extensions of your being will prevail. Trust the process, trust yourself. Henceforth is my wisdom and encouragement to discover the hero within you, as I did, and many other sufferers before me.

We are all given some kind of gift when we come into this world. Some of us have discovered ours and some not. I discovered mine when I was two years old and I have been at war with it ever since: my mind. This “gift” has brought much colour to my thirty-something year existence and much turbulence to my soul, but it is still just that: A “gift”. A mental disorder should hardly be thought of as that. Not by anyone who is remotely realistic. But then, well I guess that’s just it, I have never been completely realistic. My sense of reality has always formed part of my imagination – there is no differentiation between the two.

My lecturers used to pick me out for the lack of structure in my assignments. I guess a disordered mind meant a difficult paper to mark. But just this once, I will endeavour to give a particular attempt at structure. For this, my pilgrimage to the Mecca of my internal world, a spiritual process of ‘seek’ and ‘find’. I sought acceptance, purity and hope, and within these pages, I found it.

Do you want to know what it’s like to have bipolar?
Words cannot fully describe something so surreal and abstract and only through experiencing this rollercoaster can you truly resonate with the following glimpse into this reality:

The highest, biggest and quickest, can’t keep up with it all. From can’t possibly fail, to irritation, to rage, and finally to the lowest, murky chamber of hell where the darkest of moods slowly strangles every hope. But sometimes, just sometimes, there are those moments in between, when everything seems alright. But then the fast ideas become too fast and there are far too many. Overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. You stop keeping up with it – memory goes. Infectious humour ceases to amuse. Your friends become frightened. Everything is now against the grain. You’re irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable, and trapped! It’s like this: at first when you’re high, it’s tremendous. Ideas are fast. Like shooting stars that you follow until brighter ones appear. All shyness disappears and the right words and gestures are suddenly there. Uninteresting people and things, become intensely interesting. Sensuality is pervasive and the desire to seduce and be seduced is irresistible. Your marrow is infused with unbelievable feelings of ease, power, well-being, omnipotence and euphoria. Suddenly you can do anything but, somewhere, this all changes; and then come times when you doubt completely your ability to do anything well. It is as though your mind has slowed down and burned out to the point of being virtually useless. You’re haunted with the total, desperate hopelessness of it all. Your friends say, “It’s only temporary. It will pass. You’ll get over it.” But they don’t know how you feel (even if they think they do). And you ask yourself: “If I can’t feel, move, think, or care, then what on earth is the point?”