I'm manic. I was just recently diagnosed (a year and a half ago) but having been seeing glimpses of it from my past lately. Like when I taught third grade in 2002 and I went from grading spelling tests, to writing on the chalkboard, to picking up around the room, to planning lessons and finally to finishing grading the spelling tests. I tried to get tested for ADD. The guy asked me if the Principal was complaining about my work level because of it. No, I said. I get lots done and I'm doing really well. It's just that, really? Can I really not spend more than five minutes on any one project.
Now, at home, I'll go from checking e-mail to unloading dishes to folding laundry, to writing a blog, all within a short period of time. That is, if I'm manic. When I was depressed (which I've had only one episode by the way) I would sit online for hours. And not move. Hours. And eat and eat and eat. But, that's another story, for another day.
Mania can also produce beautiful creative works of art. Van Gogh was manic depressive, Lord Byron, Virginia Woolf, etc.
I am seeing glimpses of the fact that I am manic in my poetry journals from 1996. I would write 3 poems in one sitting, fast, quick, like the words couldn't come out fast enough. For example:
Far, far away
In the corner
Of my knee
I saw
A tiny word-
Intimacy-
I twirled it
Round & round
In my mind
And heard
A minute man
Say - fear-
Then a slightly larger
woman
In a pink dress
Shouted- desire-
And punched
that little man
In his little scared face.
This is my blog. My name is Megan Abbott.
p.s. I'm hesitant to post my poems on this blog. Poetry meets blogging? I don't know! Plus, when I read my poems, a little of my heart is in each one. So, when I post them, there it is- a little piece of my heart, oozing, there on the web. I'll keep the ones extra drippy with teenage angst, sadness or fear, at home and share the lighthearted, happy here. Thanks for reading!
Now, at home, I'll go from checking e-mail to unloading dishes to folding laundry, to writing a blog, all within a short period of time. That is, if I'm manic. When I was depressed (which I've had only one episode by the way) I would sit online for hours. And not move. Hours. And eat and eat and eat. But, that's another story, for another day.
Mania can also produce beautiful creative works of art. Van Gogh was manic depressive, Lord Byron, Virginia Woolf, etc.
I am seeing glimpses of the fact that I am manic in my poetry journals from 1996. I would write 3 poems in one sitting, fast, quick, like the words couldn't come out fast enough. For example:
Far, far away
In the corner
Of my knee
I saw
A tiny word-
Intimacy-
I twirled it
Round & round
In my mind
And heard
A minute man
Say - fear-
Then a slightly larger
woman
In a pink dress
Shouted- desire-
And punched
that little man
In his little scared face.
This is my blog. My name is Megan Abbott.
p.s. I'm hesitant to post my poems on this blog. Poetry meets blogging? I don't know! Plus, when I read my poems, a little of my heart is in each one. So, when I post them, there it is- a little piece of my heart, oozing, there on the web. I'll keep the ones extra drippy with teenage angst, sadness or fear, at home and share the lighthearted, happy here. Thanks for reading!
Comments
Love ya!