Have you ever felt like your brain totally stopped? She remained trapped in a double-pane window. She is completely isolated. She sees everything but cannot touch a thing. There’s a barrier to the noises she hears. Paralyzed, watching the world running around her.
It has been three months since my mind has isolated herself inside a double-pane window. This is the thing I hate the most about being bipolar. One moment you’re inside a kaleidoscope and the next you are the flatline in an electroencephalogram. I try to remember the moments in which I was reading five books in five days and dread the present moment, in which I slowly reach half of a book in five days. The words on the page glide over my brain. They used to stick to the walls of my mind, and now they just fly away as soon as they enter my neural network.
This morning, I tried to write more than the usual 200 words. The intermittent signal between the various sites of my brain made it rather difficult to accomplish. The words appeared and disappeared in front of me. My thoughts evaporated, and I didn’t even remember what they were about.
I stared at the pale screen of my computer. I wrote one sentence with transparent ink. My identity was absent. I was not present in those words. I kept falling asleep inside my brain, and my autopilot was not going to produce any good piece of writing. How many times have I passed through this? Too many! But for some unknown reason, every time seems to be the first. Every time my brain slows down I am wondering what’s wrong. Why aren’t you running? Why aren’t you hallucinating? Why aren’t you connecting the dots even when there are no dots to connect? I guess, this is what women mean when they say they forget what the pain of childbirth feels like. It all seems so unreal! How can you forget something so painful?! Then again, how can I forget what numbness feels like every single time?