https://www.gofundme.com/rasing-to-upgrade-the-bipolar-writer-blog This is my GoFundMe under my real name David TC (I wasn’t sure if I could get the funds if I used my Pen Name James Edgar Skye.) Thank … Continue reading The Bipolar Writer Needs Help… Again
It hurts when people erase us – our struggles, our scars, our victories, our invisible battles, a part of our lives that shapes us and our paths in ways others … Continue reading I’m not “too sensitive.” I’m mentally ill.
While there has been a big push to be more open about mental health, suicide, self-harm – so that people can actively seek help, I feel like I’ve already gone … Continue reading I’m too comfortable talking about suicide
These posts have been helpful in the past so it is great to open the floor to my fellow followers and bloggers to what topics the Bipolar Writer should discuss here. I would love your feedback.
A blog post such a this is not my usual thing here on The Bipolar Writer blog, but I am at a crossroads of sorts. I have struck out locally … Continue reading Looking for a Book Cover Artist
It took me three suicide attempts and countless hours of thinking about suicide that it kept me from genuinely starting my journey to recovery. I wish I had someone to tell me that suicide is not the answer because I truly believe it would have helped me. I eventually got there, but it took almost losing my life to make a real change.
Today. A day of prevention I must mention. Raised voices chant. Families grieve for their loss. The suffering hide in silence. A world unites to claim a day in honor … Continue reading Today, September 10th
Emotional pain can be an unbearable experience. The world disappears. You get lost in your mind, and escape seems impossible. You feel tired. Alone. It is a dark place. You feel like you are holding the weight of the world. I would lay there for hours doing nothing but staring into space lost in my mind. Social media was my way of escaping. People experience emotional pain in their lives, but for me, my emotions were magnified by a thousand some nights. The emotional distress would go on for days, weeks, months, and yes, sometimes years. The toll it took on me, it always led me to the wrong solutions— self-harm.
