Alice & Her Attempt At Leaving Wonderland.

It’s been cold in your shadow, my shadow. Never having sunshine on my face, your face. I have always been content to let you shine, to let me shine. I always walked a step behind myself. I was the one with all the strength, a beautiful face without a name for so long, a beautiful smile that hid the pain.

Having an epiphany when two facets of yourself become one, the one the world knows and the quiet self-conscious one inside, the one who stared out of the windows of life, not participating, merely watching and wondering why I couldn’t be both.

(Featured image: Girl walking up hill – by me 🙂 )

My new thoughts consist of pretending that I’m the normal person in the crowd, my boyfriend has found out the truth though, he has seen my scars, he holds me, asking me if I’m alright. The quick answer of “yes” always ready. Last night I told him I was fine, that I was bipolar and that it doesn’t affect me. These are the nice lies that I also tell to myself. He tells me that my scars and disorder hasn’t pushed him away, but I always wonder. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t see me for my scars. My quick smiles use to hide the sadness in my eyes, but now they are simply smiles. I won’t cut tonight, in my mind that chapter is slowly getting closed.

I don’t need the balance that I found in the blade and the simple ritualistic movements. The never-ending perplexity of non-suicidal self-injury. My happiness and depression making me question what really separates the genius from the madman? New ideas and thought processes are created by people living on the edge instead of the norm. I’m stumped that Bipolar Disorder keeps on getting referred to as a ‘beast of an illness’, it is what it is, you make the most of it, the negatives are only what you make of them. Someone once told me that I’m a ‘beautiful tragedy’, it made me completely disheartened, this happened even before my diagnosis, this was an asterism (a manner of deriding another), these conflicting words made me realise that the only real tragedy was them and their ignorant concept of beauty. At that point in life I was incapable of helping or ‘fixing’ myself, yet people asked me to fix their problems…ironic.

There wasn’t any room left for tears. I’m not that person anymore, thankfully. It’s become silly and trivial, I’m 22 and bored with the useless criticisms from myself and others, life is simply too short. Feeling ‘happiness’ has allowed me to no longer feel like the abandoned shipwreck, finding deep inside a small seed of happiness that I could allow to grow. There seems to be constantly different peaks in my life where at times I feel like I’m running an emergency room without morphine. I’m actually happier than I’ve been in over a year, I’m slowly replacing all my excessive black clothing with the colours that I had squashed to the back of my wardrobe, with the purpose of never finding them or needing them again. People start to get in a cycle where they stop believing in the possibility of being happy because the darkness becomes so consuming and comforting. wonderland_by_lacza-d4x7o6f

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17 thoughts on “Alice & Her Attempt At Leaving Wonderland.”

  1. I also believe that my bipolar disorder is not a curse. Sure, it sucks sometimes, but it has been a gift in many ways. I feel the world differently. I’m an artist (I run a beauty blog but I’m a professional musician). There is such intensity in the ups and downs. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. People who pity us are mistaken. (Unless we’re talking the $1500/month I spend on my shrink and my meds. Pity that all you want, it fucking blows.)

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    1. I completely agree with you, I like being creative. People with Bipolar Disorder seem to reach the usually unobtainable level of happiness that society seems to always be aiming for, yet we also reach the extreme low. I think the differences in emotions create new perspectives for me each time. Being bipolar is definitely hurting my bank account. Meds are too expensive and now I’m just cancelling psych appointments and emailing my psychiatrist 🙂 Think I will definitely be checking out your blog 🙂

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  2. I am also embracing my illness. I would take the low with the high any day. The worst possible pain I could imagine is returning to nothing.

    I watched my father take medication for the same illness I’m afflicted with and completely dissapear. He became a vegetable. I refuse to let that happen to me.

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    1. I always think people need to find the right medication. Ive been a vegetable before. Its not a good time. Embracing it for what it is makes it easier to manage. I prefer myself with my disorder, normal life is unappealing, i like knowing the different emotions. Hope its working out for you.

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  3. You paint Wonderland as a dark place, but I wonder if it doesn’t have a special light of its own. If not, maybe there’s a way to lighten it up with an attitude of radiance. Thanks for writing. –Steve from planet Earth

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    1. I do think Wonderland has some light, but it usually aids in enhancing other times for more appreciation. Haha I actually thought this post had a ray of radiance in respect to the whole ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ concept. It was finding a balance between wonderland (bipolar instability) and the perception of what is more functional. Thanks for the comment Steve 🙂

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  4. Lovely graphic you created! 🙂
    I love the point that when it comes to bipolar, “the negatives are only what you make of them.” I imagine some people might disagree with this, but my experience aligns with your point. The way you talk about mental illness matters. Language shapes us so much.
    I went through most of college not giving any thought to my bipolar disorder, probably because I was too busy; and the Lamictal really helped me to focus.
    My longterm boyfriend feels uncomfortable talking about how I have bipolar disorder. I do not hold this against him, because I don’t particularly want to talk to him about it, and the point is that he is totally understanding of my moods. When it comes to relationships, I don’t like to focus on having a mental disorder. I bring it up when I want to empathize with a person, since I know he or she will probably have a more developed/mature notion of mental illness.
    I absolutely believe in wearing certain colors to affect one’s mood. I wear a lot of purple and blue. Lucky for me, I look terrible in black clothes to begin with. 🙂

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    1. Thank you 🙂 I like doing a bit of art sometimes.
      Guess how we use language creates our perspective, each to their own, glad yours aligns with mine. I’m starting to think that I need to not bring it up with my boyfriend or remind him that I’m bipolar. Repeatedly not understanding that taking my medication is a life-long thing. I definitely think I will adopt your philosophy of leaving mental health out of the relationship, we both don’t need the reminder, good thing I can vent on here instead. It’s funny how people with similar issues are just so much more relatable, anyone else can’t even begin to understand. The colour clothing is definitely a good thing to help with moods, I really like blue 🙂 Haha I wish black didn’t suit me, I mostly look goth, but I’m trying not to. I honestly can’t see you wearing anything but colour, you seem like a really vibrant person (haha…I realise that this is an internet judgement)

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  5. Wow, that really spoke to me. I’m going through a lot of that now, trying to slough off the labels that society likes to put on things. All my life I’ve been the ‘weird’ one or the ‘odd’ one. Now, I just see me as me, love me or leave me! 😀

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    1. “The love me or leave me” is exactly right. Labels seem pointless to me, it just helps people who are uncomfortable when people aren’t categorized. I thought I was ‘odd’ all my life until I told myself that everyone else is f***ed, my friends stopped thinking I was awkward because I stopped caring what they or others thought. Hope the labels don’t get you down, they are never worth it 🙂 🙂

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  6. My Wonderland is a dark place…actually it’s just a scary crazy place I lived for many years when I was in my 20’s ….it reminds me of being borderline…really, really borderline and the present me is deathly afraid of becoming that again.
    On a bright note, that photo is awesome…you are very talented.

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  7. I have Purgatory instead of Wonderland, where my monsters chase me up and down all day and night. Sometimes I actually kick their butts for a change but mostly they beat me down. I am in awe of how well most people handle this disorder. I used to be at that point where I just embraced it, but now I just feel like a monster myself.
    I have absolutely no support structure apart from my shrink (whom I rarely see nowadays) and a Christian counsellor. Oh and my blog, it brings some relieve to keep a journal of my feelings, and the people here who are going through the same things. I draw strength from that instead, knowing that I’m not entirely alone. I didn’t have to be alone either but I didn’t have anyone who is strong enough to stand by me or fight for me when I let them go. They simply left. Their loss. 😛 I’ll be fine again after a while and back to kicking some monster butt.

    I like reading your posts it inspires me. Keep it up. 😉

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