T H E G R E A T B E L O W........

Have I ever mentioned that having bi-polar disorder isn't easy? Sometimes it's BEYOND not easy.....sometimes it is absolutely horrifying. Recently I have gone from the ecstatic high of our beloved Georgia Bulldogs crushing Hawaii in the Sugar Bowl and being surrounded by wonderful friends and family to the lowest of lows....rather quickly.

I remember two years ago on a family vacation to Destin I hit rock bottom in the mood department because I forgot to pack all my medications. I actually sat on the beach alone for four hours contemplating what it would feel like to walk into the ocean...and keep walking...into the great below. Oh yes, The Great Below was my theme song that entire summer. A summer packed with all kinds of mental goodness......

The time for The Great Below has returned with one hell of a darkness that has me in its grip. I feel introverted and so frustrated. The only good thing that will come out of this misery is some damn good writing and artwork. See? I am optimistic after all! /sarcasm/

On the Verge...

As an artist, and a manic depressive one at that, I frequently ride the stages of creative moods much the same as my emotional highs and lows. When the artistic doldrums grip me, my periods of unproductivity affect every aspect of my life. I'm sure my friends and family would rather sit through eight root canals than spend two hours with me when I'm in this state. Then there's the manic side.......

Ah, the manic side of bi-polar.... Truly a dangerous and often thrilling part of my psyche. Manic episodes make me bold, exciting and even more sarcastic and caustic than normal. I'm probably a bit annoying, too, because mania brings on extreme levels of energy, arrogance and rapid thoughts. However, mania unleashes another part of me that is vital to my well-being - vital to the essence of my soul. No, it's not nymphomania or scrapbooking... Mania unwakens the artiste that I am. I want to create more passionately than I want to breathe, whether it be painting, photography, sketching or the mighty mighty pen (or keyboard in my case). At the onset of mania, I feel that I am on the verge of something big - something that proclaims who I am in this world. For those of you who are not artists, creation is a way of giving the world a piece of your heart and soul. I am definitely on the verge......

***Above is one of my recent images of Hermes the crow.

Die an Early Death...

"If I could start again...a million miles away,
I would keep myself - I would find a way..."

Anyone who reads this blog is probably SICK to DEATH of my bi-polar rants, but tough shite! I could remain emo quietly behind the scenes, but why would I want to do that when I can spout off online and broadcast my tortured soul to the universe? Not that anyone truly cares...but at least I can unload my troubled thoughts in the desperate hope that Trent Reznor will read my posts and send me a private message...You know, something like this: "I have searched the entire world during my last few years of touring, hoping to find that special young lady who complements my darkest self...I would have never imagined that I would find her through her online blog...You are truly magnificent... Bagheera, you complete me..."
Anyway, insomnia is going.to.freaking.kill.me. I haven't had a good night's sleep in...5 years? I have had maybe 3 good solid hours of sleep in 3 nights, and today I crashed. Again. Is there an end to this? I haven't found a doctor who can help me yet...I feel like a walking lab rat - my body chemistry composed of lithium & blood & water & anti-depressants & sleep-aids. I don't think the Red Cross would even consider taking my blood, unless a bleeding-out accident victim was also insane in the membrane.
I can only hope for some kind of miraculous relief, whether it's in the form of some miracle krazee-cure or an early death. Who knows?

XXXOOO,
Bagheera

It's all about ME...

Things around here have been pretty serious and morose lately... The passing of my dear Winston has been very difficult for me. I have had about 24 hours of sleep over the last 3 weeks. My basement flooded. Michael Vick's dogfighting scandal pisses me off. I have zero faith in any upcoming presidential candidate. I have lost my appetite. God, I'm a mess...
But there is a light at the end of the tunnel... It's called Bi-polar Disorder. When I'm at my lowest, sometimes the manic-ness kicks in & brings me to a whole new state of existence. I become a delusional bitch who locks herself in the studio to create & be what I was born to be...a delusional artist. I also peruse the goods at Trashy. Trashiness never hurts an artist's soul. Sometimes mental illness isn't so bad after all...