By Brandon Koebernik | Featured Contributor
Mom was schizophrenic.
Dad was bipolar.
What could I get from it?
I found out as I got older.
It started when I joined the military,
Army National Guard.
I don’t believe I was wary,
Of how things could get so hard.
A lot of time had passed.
I started noticing changes,
To the point where I wore a mask,
To hide all of the passing phases.
I’m fine, I’ll get over it.
Or so I thought.
So often I wanted to quit,
Stressful situations left me distraught.
I was depressed and angry,
Outbursts cost me friendships.
Seeking help wasn’t very manly,
So I kept taking the hits.
I woke up questioning myself,
What is my purpose?
Am I meant to rot on a shelf?
Why do I feel so worthless?
If you could weaponize tears,
I would’ve built an army.
I had nothing but fears,
Would my mind harm me?
I said enough was enough,
I had to take care of me.
I knew it would be rough,
But it was the road to safety.
I can’t say that I’m cured,
But I’m better than I was.
In many ways I’ve matured,
For therapy wasn’t a bust.
It helped clarify many things,
I now knew I had Bipolar Disorder.
This diagnosis gave me wings,
I was no longer leaning on the border.
I’ve been able to mitigate problems,
I’m now mindful of my emotions.
The stresses of life I’ve overcome,
Have put a lot of things in motion.
I no longer believe it was my fault,
Nothing I did caused me that pain.
I was a victim of a mind assault,
Courtesy of a chemical imbalance in my brain.
There is a moral to my story,
Seeking help may benefit you too.
You don’t have to feel sorry…
Someone will be there to love you.
If you are currently depressed or thinking about death or dying, please reach out to a friend or a loved one immediately. If anonymity is important to you, consider using one of the helplines below right now:
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