I Caught Bipolar Like A Cold, a poem by Drem

Lady sneezing

I Caught Bipolar Like A Cold, a poem by Drem

July 24, 2016


“I’m a manic depressive

on no anti-depressants.

What else did you expect from me

considering my history

and all the men

and all they did

to me

over the years

and your blind eye

to me as a child

as I lived through them?

What more can you possibly expect

than a high as fuck

spinning girl- me-

who smokes too much

and hurts herself

by any means

she can

and lives on coffee

and never sleeps

and cries randomly

at the snapshots of memories

that play when least expected

behind those green eyes

of hers

that are fading?

Year after year,

a new blow to my consciousness

and ability to function properly

over and over again


It happens.

And I try, I really do,

to stop the cycle

I am finding

myself constantly in.

I guess I just know

no different way to live.

And neither do you.

You get used to this girl- me-

who sits and never moves.

Who refuses to think

so drifts away while she’s awake

to hide from the past

that blankets her in

a tight grasp

of a sheer black cloud.

You can see through

but she can’t see out.

So what did you expect

from a manic depressive

on no anti-depressants?

Don’t you remember my father

and his father before him?

Don’t you remember

your father

and what he did to your mother

in your home

when you were seven?

I mean this

you can see

and have seen

so many times

in your lifetime.

I’ve shown signs since I was ten.

And now I caught it full blown.

Like a cold turned into a flu.

But it doesn’t go away

as a cold or a flu does.

It’s genetic.

Like, when I went to the doctor

instead of a Z-pack,

some antibiotic,

he prescribed me uppers

and downers

and stabilizers

in the hopes

of trying to control

my out of control

dizzy, spinning, puking mind

that disorients my serotonin levels.

And flips my anger

out to snap

as fast as the light

you turn off

in my room

for me

before I go to bed.

It didn’t work.

And now I’m off

most of my meds


And I’m lost

in my own head

under my blonde hair.

Thinking nothing

but bad thoughts.

Thinking nothing

but bad thoughts.

And drowning-

I’m so sorry to use that term “drowning”.

But it’s what I feel- the best description

is me swimming

upwards quickly

in a pool that keeps rising

above me.

And what is sinking me,

tied to my feet,

making them bleed,

attracting sharks to my knees,

is a loneliness

that I only recently realized

I have.

I still don’t know

what you expected

from a manic depressive

on no anti-depressants.

You push me,

expect me

to go out

and dress me

up like a doll

to hang out with

your sister

and your family

who I can barely


on even my best of days.

And you push me

to talk to you

and look at you

when I really don’t

love you.

I don’t love anyone,

I told you.

I lost that

a bit ago

in the great storm

of 2012.

And you push me

to turn my face towards you

as you talk at me

so rudely.

When all I want to do

is sleep, you know.

And I can’t

because I’m tired

and all I see

are these bad mini-movies

taken by my eyes

and stored away in a solid slate drive.

What more were you expecting?”

(C) Drem 2016


7 thoughts on “I Caught Bipolar Like A Cold, a poem by Drem

  1. This is a perfect expression; it couldn’t be written any better. Every word, thought, and feeling exact. I’m saddened about the trauma and life you’ve been subjected to. Thankfully, you can pinpoint it and speak so well for yourself, which, in turn, helps others who can’t. Thank you for that.

    Liked by 1 person

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