Knowing I’m a Rabbit…

…Doesn’t Keep Me from Running…

…Or Digging Burrows…

I thought that I could escape the pitfalls of being Bipolar if I could recognize the phases. That I could help others understand me, if I could just explain what I’m experiencing.

Why do I want you to understand me? I have wanted to be loved and accepted forever. As long as I have been alive.

I mean, everybody does, don’t they?

Don’t they?m

I don’t think I am like other people. That’s a stupid thing to say. I KNOW I’m not like others. I used to be glad I was different, at least I pretended to like it.

Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...

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