TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT IN LOVE, NATURE & ART

Posts tagged “Mania

Messages from God

Sue at Silent Eye recently posted a discussion of bibliomancy on her blog…

https://thesilenteye.co.uk/2017/06/04/divination-by-the-book/

As a former librarian, I had an experience of bibliomancy with an encyclopedia. It was at a time in my life when I was in a sort of parallel universe. In any case, I had the distinct feeling of a prickly scalp and I wanted to do what I called “readings” which meant basically opening a book randomly to anything looking for messages from God. So I did just that and opened to a page with a picture of Christ and His crown of thorns. I can’t remember how I interpreted it but I knew I was “connected” to something way bigger than my mind.

I had many such experiences and they are delineated in my book, Eye-locks and Other Fearsome Things.


Apology

To all of you who have “liked” my posts over the past week, a heartfelt apology and a mighty THANK YOU!!!  I would have liked to have stopped by your blogs but am following WAY, WANY too many people and can’t keep up.  I keep following more and more people when I am manic and then feel hopelessly unable to keep up when in the depressed cycle– which is where I am now.  I am clean out of words, in a downward spiral, and on day 3 of a mighty migraine.  Hope you’ll stop by again sometime in the future so I can visit your place.  


Windows into Worlds: The Lighthouse

   A night of mania with no sleep

 the wee hours on the computer

running on empty and

bordering on irascibility

my stirrings awaken my husband

 a pre-dawn breakfast and a visit to

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The Saugerties Lighthouse at 7 A.M.

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What drama plays out behind lace curtains?

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A beacon of light from the Inside,

Someone stirs…


Rapid Cycling

Patterns of the microcosm
echoed in the macrocosm
vibrating thoughts
no meditation
lots of frustration
can’t calm down
do the Hong Sau
Yogananda method
the only hope
in this mind
doing 120 mph
in a 35 mph zone

 

time soon for sleep
frogs singing
a pre-dawn high
drained at noon
rapid cycling
twilight now
back to racing
raving
raging mind
need gentility
humility
quietude
to feel awe
to ponder
hit “Pause”

love in the afternoon
a natural anti-
depressant
sent sight soaring
in space
seeing patterns
everywhere
echoing symphonically
in noisy ears
the hum of quiet
seems too loud
flashing lights
status migrainous
with all over
crawling feeling
“not-theres”

stop I say
stop I pray
stop the way
the world spins
hurling in space
the race
the pace
exhaustion
please
take this body
in your arms
work your charms
on this alarm-
ing state
with alacrity
the paucity
of peace
needs mending

Oh evening
send hope
for ending
these frantic antics
quell the panic
break the day
and bring on
the dawn
of dreams


Overloaded Circuits

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On circuit overload

can’t turn off the current

despite parallel despair

know a fuse will blow

but can do little to stop the flow

mania and depression

together = paranoia

 


Overloaded Circuits: a Poem for World Bipolar Day, March 30, 2014

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I’m in somnia

with jackhammer brain

a buzzing mind

a humming with emotions

thoughts and pictures

memories of joys

lost to death

spirits close to my heart

seemingly worlds away

guilt, loss and happiness

sickness and death

as well as

breathtaking beauty

a bedfellow with

gnawing worries

and gnashing nerves

fleeting images from films and

music playing at high speed

in the library of my mind

voices of today, yesterday and

fears of tomorrow

vying for an ear

asking me to listen

to them all

all at once

a cacophony of sounds

in the humming silence

of the specter-filled

haunting darkness

with fearsome death dangling

its loathsome threats

before my darting eyes

afraid not for myself

but of losing him

as he lies beside me

breathing noises

breeding worry, sorry

dashing thoughts of love, passion, doubts

a scarily-still lump beside

insomniac-hyper-racing-mind

manic me

finally arising out of

maudlin months

of dismal darkness

and deep, dark despair

when death smelled sweet to me

*

I get out of bed

to lay my face

upon the windowsill

to gaze at the mystery sky

full of twinkling stars

glittering to the rhythms

of the pulsing universe

my only hope for some

semblance of somnolence

my only chance for peace.

For info on my Bipolar memoir, please see: http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/ellen-stockdale-wolfe.html


Two Different Worlds

I am Bipolar.  I used to think I was two different people.  In the remarkable article below Bipolar Disorder is described as inhabiting two different worlds.

The Bipolar Bum

#worldbipolarday #bipolar #bipolarbum #manicdepression #endmentalillnessstigma #mania #depression

#worldbipolarday - Get on board everyone.  Share, reblog and make noise! #worldbipolarday – Get on board everyone. Share, reblog and make noise!

Bipolar: How to be in two places at once

Everywhere we go, we occupy two completely separate places.  One usually takes priority, emboldened by our current mental state, but nevertheless a person with Bipolar occupies two separate worlds.

 Think of it as two narratives being played out on speakers.  Periodically the volume shifts heavily from one to the other but you are left with the sometimes dreadful knowledge that it WILL oscillate at some point in the future.  Just acknowledging this can be a stressor in and of itself and many people with Bipolar require that they are CONSTANTLY vigilant observing their mental garden, and pulling out the weeds as  early as possible.

As white-hot, humming mania begins to recede I become anxious and pre-emptively disheartened at the potential of how low…

View original post 720 more words


Beguiling Wiles

Though I write about meditation, spirituality, animal rights, mental illness and nature on this blog, I would be remiss in not sharing my passion for Indian dance and Bollywood movies.  Bollywood movies, like Western movies, are vessels of escapism, but Bollywood movies add morality, family values and frequently, religion, into the mix.  The dance and music is uplifting and, yes, sensual, without resorting to the blatant obscenity of Western films.

In this excerpt from the film, “Khalnayak,” Madhuri Dixit and Sanjay Dutt star.  Madhuri is the diva of Indian dance and, in fact, I am taking free online lessons with her just for the fun of it. And fun it is.  Madhuri makes no bones about using one’s feminine wiles to beguile.  If interested the lessons are available at http://dancewithmadhuri.com.  Sanjay Dutt is the handsome, irresistibly vulnerable heartthrob of the Indian screen and he dances as well.  Most Bollywood stars not only act but dance, too.

In this scene, Madhuri Dixit plays an undercover cop acting as a dancer to allure and apprehend the soft-hearted criminal, Sanjay Dutt.  They have great chemistry and the dancing is definitely an earthly pleasure, a blatant manifestation of Maya, to which I am attached.  But I think I must follow to see where it leads.  Experiencing writer’s block and artist’s block at the moment, perhaps dance is good for my soul. Critics might say my interest arises from a Bipolar mania or an Asperger’s obsession.  Perhaps.  I don’t know.  I am certainly not manic at the moment. All I know is that the allure of this form of Maya is powerful, and to deny its existence may lead to the necessity of pursuing this manifestation of it in another life.  Paramahansa Yogananda says that all life is Maya, a picture show.  Perhaps by indulging in Bollywood films, I may get a new perspective on so-called “reality” and see it as Yogananda did, as a film show of the earthly passions, a dream from which we will awaken one day.


My Mind is Broken

It is 3 A.M. and it is another night I cannot sleep.  I have taken two sleeping pills to no avail.  When I am manic sleep does not come easily.  I write.  I eat.  I check email.  I pace the rooms back and forth, in and out of bed.  Luckily my husband does not wake during my perambulations.  The mania is not of the inflated ego variety, though I have had that at an earlier time in my life.  Years ago I remember going by Harlem on a bus route home one night when I was flagrantly psychotic and proclaiming, “These are my people!”  Why I said this I couldn’t tell you now– sparked most likely from some manic feeling of camaraderie. But, of course, it was beyond grandiosity and just plain crazy (yes, that is a psychiatric term).   Perhaps the roots arose out of the closeness I had with my Sicilian grandfather who was not exactly white and who had much spirit– what an African-American might call “soul.”  And from my father, a jazz trombonist, who spent his youth sleeping in bathtubs in Harlem when he would come to the city from white suburbia for jam sessions.  He, too, like my grandfather, had “soul”  hidden under white skin.

In any case, thanks to the anti-psychotic family of medicines I am not grandiose tonight. I did forget to take my meds the other night  and, like Karma, that affects everything about my life.   I am just raring for the day to start, for the morning to come.  I see a drunk sitting outside on a stoop smoking.  I want to see, not the people of the night, but the purposeful people of the morning, going to school, going to work, walking their dogs.  Two hours and forty-five minutes to go.  And then time to wake up, have coffee, pray, make plans for the work of the day.  How can fifteen minutes seem like an hour?  How can the cool night breeze masquerade as a morning zephyr?  I will make one last attempt to go to bed and sleep.  First, I will post a video of Jusuf’s, formerly known as Cat Stevens, of a beautiful hymn he sang, “Morning Has Broken.”  I am also posting a photo I took of a marsh in the morning light.  Enjoy!  And Good morning!

This was written a year ago in a mild manic episode.  Right now I am fighting depression triggered by Lyme disease and antibiotics.  I have zero creativity so resort to rewrites.  Hope to be back writing soon and commenting on fellow bloggers’ posts.  Please excuse the silence but that is how it is being Bipolar.   (Click http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/ellen-stockdale-wolfe.html  for information on, and to purchase, my Bipolar/Asperger’s memoir.)


“Music Magic”

Today

a lightness of being

want to share

the scintillating spark

 Cat Stevens

and his cohorts

see

the Light

music often mania makes

is this mania

or

is it the catepillar

coming out of the chrysalis of depression

being Bipolar bears

cacophonic confusion

even after 6 decades

who cares

Cat Stevens

a gift to me

from my brother

post mortem

his legacy to me

because he loved him

and because I missed him

I listened

too late to share the love

 now

my gift to you

just listen and let

soul to soul transmission

effect

its music magic

culminating

in a crescendo

of

soul