Being bipolar is kind of like being a stunt driver. It’s a daring ride. Both dangerous and exhilarating, you can’t help but to want more. So how exactly is being bipolar like being a stunt driver? Well, I’m glad you asked.
When mania hits, it’s like a stunt driver hitting the ramp to jump over the canyon. The car leaves the ground and it’s exhilarating. It’s a freeing feeling fleecing your body. I smile because everything feels good.
Then I get to the peak. I start to think about how I have to come down. Like the stunt car driver in the air, eventually I will get pulled back to the ground. The exhilarating feeling quickly takes a turn and becomes a constant panic.
Two things can happen from here. I either land on the ground on the other side, or crash into the canyon. The thoughts of both scenarios flood my mind, growing louder and more vivid. My heart beats faster as I start to fall.
I grip onto the steering wheel and soar, feeling that sinking feeling in my stomach as gravity pulls me down. I close my eyes and…
I’ve always landed on the ground on the other side. But every time I land, there’s a thought in the back of my head that nags at me. When will I finally crash? It plays through my head over and over again.
I build up for the next big jump, the next big manic stage. The cycle repeats, over and over again. Like a terrifying job that I can’t retire from, being bipolar is like being a stunt driver. Scary and dangerous, but also exciting and exhilarating.
