Tag Archive | MD

E-book Version! ^_^

Hello everyone! How have you been? I know it’s been a while, more on that later ūüėČ

Despite the absence, I have finally made an e-book version of UNMASKED! Yehey! ūüėÄ ūüėÄ ūüėÄ The available formats are:¬†epub, mobi, pdf, lrf, pdb, txt, and html. Do check it out at Smashwords.com. I’ll be making an e-book version for the Kindle as well ¬†so please watch out for that ^_^

Smashword

How?

How can

you explain

a loneliness,

a sadness

so pervasive

that

no words

can describe?

When

all that is left

is a hole

while

everything around

is a bustle

of activity?

How can you

explain

anguish, grief,

and strife

when

the war being waged

is within?

When all that

is left

is a pit

while

everything around

is

a merry celebration

how

can you explain

shadows –

overwhelming emptiness

when

I can’t even

explain myself?

A Bipolar’s Manic Life

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Have you ever been to hell while alive?¬†It’s like waking up from a deep slumber but instead of feeling well-rested, your head is swimming in constant emotional and mental turmoil. It’s being born again with all the misery and hollowness in the world put inside you and you feel like bursting any moment. Your mind is a jumble of mismatched wires and your heart is beating but you feel lifeless.

I have Bipolar II which means I have more manic depressive episodes than high or elevated moods. More often, I sleep the whole day because I feel like my energy has been drained but there are also times when I am restless and can not sit still or stay in one place. There are times when I am overly excited or happy and have grandiose plans regarding my life, and life in general. Other times, I shop compulsively. I am sometimes the most pleasant, enjoyable company you will have, and at others I am the most obnoxious, sarcastic bitch in the room. I am prone to suicidal tendencies and hurting myself. More so to feel something than to deliberately inflict pain on my being. I have Bipolar, not insanity.

Many an article both here in the Philippines and abroad have featured suicides due to depression and others wonder how these people could do it. What on earth possessed them to end their life, to give up just like that? As someone who have thought of killing herself on more than one occasion, I may not be able to speak for everyone but this I know to be true: the misery within, the silent plea for help when we don’t even know if we want it or not, and the conflict between losing & finding ourself ¬†are all too great a burden that all we want to do is end it. End the chaos plaguing us, for it is a plague, a never-ending plague that only settles but never leaves.

Sad to say, only a few people with Bipolar get the much needed support and unconditional love from their family and friends. On my end, I am not criticizing any friends – nor family – I have but they do tend to ignore me when I am in my manic depressive mood. Others even have the gall to ask how I am doing when it is obvious how exactly I feel. I guess it’s because they do not know. They do not have the slightest clue of the conflict I am battling every single moment of my life. They have their depressive episodes but that will be gone in a few days or week while mine stays. It is a constant in my life. Except for my husband, I am almost always left alone where the feelings of guilt and worthlessness magnify into a thousandfold.

In a way I am guilty of my Bipolar blossoming. I nurtured it you see. From the throes of slight depressive episodes until the depths of a dark bottomless pit, I have watered it until it thrived. You ask what made me do it? Not because I wanted to be in the lowest hierarchy of humanity where pity is constantly on its feet but because I am a writer.

As much as I have Bipolar, I am self-aware and it did not take me long to realize that I write a whole hell of a lot better when I am in my manic depressive mood. It is in my darkest, most primeval, and volatile state when I become in charge of all my faculties – literary at least. In these moments, nothing can stand between me and my thoughts. I am then compelled – summoned more like it – to put pen to paper where all my thoughts gush out, like a faucet opened on full power. It is when I write to my full satisfaction where my brain and heart literally race and tumble over words. I do not know how many people with Bipolar experience this but it is during these moments that I am in bliss. I feel like I am me again – no, I AM me again. My pathos is also my salvation.

Some people might think it but no one ever wants to be mentally ill. No one. But it is something I, and a hundred or maybe thousands of people, have to deal with everyday. I have it not because I am weak. I have it not because I have a flair for the dramatics. I have it not because I am pessimistic. I have it simply because I do. It is a fact and nothing can ever change that. The agony, the tiring ups and downs of my emotions, and the constant feeling of drowning and emptiness is mine and mine alone. Understanding Bipolar will take time but if people put in a lot of patience coupled with dedication then one day, the stigma that is Bipolar will be broken. Then, people with Bipolar like me will be seen as caring, strong, and thriving members of our community Рnot as weak, cry babies with whom others always have to be on edge with.

I can see the light. It is not that I, and the others, choose to be in the shadows. It is because I need my family and friends to make that light reachable for me, especially in moments of anguish. Yes I need help, but sometimes, I still wonder if I really do. I need patience and understanding, not scrutiny and judgments. One day, I know it will happen.

 

 

More About UNMASKED

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UNMASKED is not just about someone dealing with Bipolar Disorder, it’s also a story of hope. Of how a person can spiral so low but still manage to fight against the turmoil and find one’s self. It is everyone’s story of trial and tribulation, how going through the hottest of fire can make us stronger and wiser if we hold on long enough and refuse to give up.

UNMASKED now available at central.com.ph, sulitbooks.com, blink.com.ph,and facebook.com/genevievelvwisen.com (please send me a PM) ^_^

Almost at the Finish Line!

Hi everyone! Just wanted to remind you that there is only 13 days left before the Book Giveaway Raffle comes to an end. Don’t forget to join everyday to double your chances of winning ūüėČ Good luck and God bless! ^_^

Description

What happens when your world is shattered from within? When you can’t run nor hide from yourself?

UNMASKED is a poetry novel that deals not just with Bipolar but generally, with the darkness in all of us. When it overwhelms us, threatens to consume us, and how we fight to regain ourselves. It is a story of loss, hope, and survival.

OUT SOON! 

Extra Poems

Here are two poems that were supposed to be part of the poetry novel¬†but didn’t push through because they were buried beneath all my written drafts and I just found them yesterday while cleaning my desk. If they were found earlier, they would have formed part of UNMASKED’s first part, Pathos.

I.
I’m the girl,
the one who’s always lost
the one with the fake smile;
the girl who seems to be so strong.
That girl who’s always there
and seems to have no problems of her own
the one who holds back tears,
until she’s all aone.

II.
a place of rest I’ve tried to find
aching in my heart, chaos in my mind
this place is poison to my soul
can’t take much more, I’m losing control

Poetry Novel

Hi! It’s been a while since I posted and it’s because I have been busy finishing my book! Yup, I am finally going to have a book – my very, first book! Yay! ūüėÄ To be exact, it’s a poetry novel entittled Unmasked.

It’s all about Manic Depression. My experience with it – how I am and how I feel when I have my MD until I get better. Basically, it’s a book that is a window to a manic depressive’s mind and life. It’s divided into three parts:

Pathos
Anaktisi
Iremia

The Greek words were accidental, I was in one of my reveries when it popped in my head. When I looked up the meaning it fit the first part which was all about being in my MD state. Then I continued using Greek words for the other parts.

I’m 90% complete with it. After that comes the book design and illustrations. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish all this by November so please pray for me! I’ll keep you updated as fast as I can! Thanks ^_^

Hypnagogia

How do you go back to a world you feel strongly disconnected from? Where you’ve been heartlessly yanked out and where everyone is engrossed in their own business that you feel like an intruder? You stand in the middle of¬†a crowd who seems to be in¬†a timeless¬†fast-forward mode that you can’t reach out to even one. You watch them having fun; you hear their¬†voices which are¬†a mixture of mirth, sorrow, fun, confusion, hope, anger and regret that you feel so alien. You don’t belong here, that you’re sure of¬†but there’s that vague sense of familiarity; being one of them. No, you are one of them – weren’t you?

There was a time when you were one of them. Now you’re not. You’re just a vessel; no soul, no spirit. You feel so tiny in a vast world. You long to be part of it. Somehow you remember a shared laugh, a happiness, a oneness. It’s all gone though. You want it back but you’re outside, looking in. You want with a wanting that can’t be quenched and though its grip is surprisingly light escape is still bleak. Slowly you realize that despite of your longing, going back to how it¬†was and moving forward to how it will-should be will be¬†very hard. Not because people are harsh. Not because most of your family and friends have abandoned you; and certainly not because you are truly lost. It’s simply because it has always been tough fighting one’s self.

Flawed Duality

Here I am, tired of hiding behind the shadows and thinking of excuses whenever I’m asked why I missed a class. It’s like living a double life, only I don’t get to wear fancy clothes and drive smoking, “fast and the furious” famous sports cars and carry to die for gadgets. I have manic depression and because no one knows about it I have to always put up a front and be cheerful and happy because when I’m not, friends wonder what has gotten into me and worse, get mad and we’d end up not being friends anymore. I’m not writing this to get sympathy. I’m writing this because as I said I’m tired of lying. I’m tired of pretending to be alright when I feel so broken.

Do I resent it? I sometimes do. When I’m in my MD state there is a big possibility that¬†I will (accidentally) lash out at a friend and they’ll: (a) get confused, (b) get hurt, or (c) get mad and retaliate. I can’t choose what’s worse because if they get confused then I get hurt and wonder why it seems that I have no right to be snooty, snobbish or ill-tempered?!?!¬†If they get hurt, I’d end up feeling guilty even if I know I cannot control myself. And if they get mad and retaliate I end up losing friends. It’s a no-win situation for me and it only aggravates what I’m feeling.¬†When I¬†calm down, I realize that I can’t resent them. They don’t really know what I have or if they do, they don’t truly understand what it is. I’ve tried explaining it to a few friends, telling them the truth instead of lying and the reactions I get are either of the three: (a) they don’t text back, (b) they change the topic¬†(c) they ignore me until I talk to them again or (d) reply “ok” and ignore me.

What is MD? I don’t want to go all medical so the simplest way I can put it is when I’m in the height of my mania I go through an unusually happy state and confidence worthy of¬†Simba after Rafiki talks to him and after fluffy cloud Mustafa gently reprimands him. It’s akin to a sugar-rush only it doesn’t last for a few minutes or hours for me. Mine could last for a month or two and then comes nothing. The abruptness of it takes me by surprise and I get confused, disoriented, restless, and easily irritated and annoyed.¬† I cry for no reason at all, I cannot sleep because my body won’t let me¬†and I lose interest in everything (yes, even eating). All that’s left is a hollowness and helplessness within me.¬†The worst of all is I cannot control my emotions and my mind is¬†useless. I can’t focus. It’s very scattered and my memory could rival a person with dementia (no offense to those with relatives afflicted with it).

I always say I am not nice because the truth is, how can I believe in my supposed goodness when every once in a great while my MD strikes and I turn into a bitch? It’s me but it’s not quite me. And living a life that is teetering on a delicate combination of simplicity and unfathomable complexity is not exactly what I have pictured for myself. People wonder how I always go out of my way to help them when they’re down because the answer is far from what they could imagine. I help them because I need them more than they need me. I am passionate about animals because I need them. It’s not only because I like animals or that I’m nice. In my state, being needed and knowing I can be of help despite my “disability” is very important. It gives me a sense of purpose and peace; a¬†balance in my mostly unbalanced life.

If my illness has taught me anything it is to be sensitive of other people’s feelings. To be more understanding and kind because I know¬†how it is to be ignored and misjudged. To realize that out there, there will always be someone with a bigger problem, bigger sorrow. To know that life is hard but that is life.

It always boils downs to perspective. If you let something be a curse then it will. It will drag you down and you will always feel sorry for yourself, an eternal victim. But if you let it work towards your advantage by trying-struggling-to see the good in it then eventually you will be able to rise above it and be stronger and wiser. Fact is we can never control what will happen to us. Our decisions are ours and through perceptiveness we can at least get an idea of the consequences of our actions but there will always be events that we can never predict. Life’s surprises which could either be good or bad.¬†All of us will experience both¬†of it; it can¬†neither be all good nor all bad. And when we’re hit with a bad surprise; cry, yell, swear; feel sorry for yourself and even withdraw from life but never wallow in it.¬†Rest, but don’t rest forever. Rest until you’re strong enough to fight again.

I have MD. This is me. I let it run my life sometimes but I don’t let it define who I really am. It’s just a part of me¬†that I have to accept and work on. And maybe people will see that if someone who can’t control her emotions and can’t rely on her mind for the better half of the year still has the strength to fight-to have hope that everything will be better soon-then they will realize that there is nothing they can’t overcome. This is my cross and I choose to fight. What about your cross, what do you choose?