Like A Phoenix??

"I have a grip on reality. Just not this particular one." ~ Source Unknown

At various and sundry times during periods of manic behavior I have likened myself to a phoenix. Yes, a phoenix, that mythical, graceful firebird who builds a nest of twigs after a lifespan of 500 to 1,000 years, ignites and burns to ash, and then is gloriously reborn. The cry of the phoenix was said to be like a beautiful song. In truth, during those times I was more like a mentally challenged loon who annoyed the other birds for a while by continuously flying in a circle, all the time sounding off like a vulture with a beak impediment. This loon would then fly directly into a sliding glass door at a high rate of speed and ricochet unconscious into a flaming barbecue grill, where he would unceremoniously burn until an annoyed grillmaster would fling his charcoaled carcass off to the side.

Unlike the phoenix, there will be no miraculous rebirth for this loon. But, after a period of time our smoldering friend will begin to move, then walk, and eventually fly again. And in his eyes he will be very phoenix-like and his song will be magical, at least to his own ears. But inevitably he will crash and burn again.

This has been the story of my life for the past six years. I detailed some of my adventures on The Prodigal Glenn blog should you ever wish to read about them. And if you read through those old blog posts, you could pretty easily tell what phase of the bipolar cycle I was in at any given time.

It's not a cycle that I wish to keep repeating. I've allowed bipolar disorder to rob me of many things. It's a vicious illness, and yet it can be managed. Somehow over the past few months I seem to have found that middle ground (at least for quite a bit of the time) between the highs of mania and the lows of depression. Or maybe I've just become accustomed to the lows of depression and now deem that to be my normal state. I don't actually know. And I'm not going to make any great claims of discovery and/or self-enlightenment. I've had to dine on too many of those in the past (eating crow as it were, to continue the bird theme!).

I know that I should be freaking out. I separated from the Government in late October after almost 28 years of Federal service and have applied for a disability. I haven't had any income since mid-November when I withdrew the money from my TSP (401K) account. I've been flat broke since December 20th, when I had to spend my last $160 for copies of medical records from Butler Hospital. My checking account is overdrawn, my cellphone has been shut off, and my auto insurance has been cancelled. I should be as nervous as Michael Vick at a Humane Society convention, but I'm not.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not turning cartwheels and singing the Hallelujah chorus. But I'm surviving. Somehow. Someway. And I'm hoping that when this bird gets his wings back, he'll be content to be a simple robin. Not the majestic phoenix or the out of control loon, just a happy little robin.

And yet to me, being that happy, steady little robin would be a greater miracle than being the mythical phoenix. Although with my luck, there will be some rotten little kid out with his brand new Red Ryder BB gun that day. I'll just have to pray that he shoots his eye out.