Tag: bipolar
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Surviving Madness, Salvadoran-Style
Last week I wrote about my Uncle Paco, who had played a big role in me finding my Salvadoran roots. He helped me see that I was a guanaco (the nickname for Salvadorans), and in doing so–though he didn’t know this–he helped keep me alive. Three years after meeting him, Michelle and I, newly-married, moved…
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The Sudden, Psychotic Need for Jazz
About a week after the breakdown on Christmas day, in a moment of relative calm, I was sitting outside in my pajamas, staring at the property fence, and two things happened: I said, “Fuck this shit,” and I rearranged my room. The Fuck this shit wasn’t about my room—the room where I spend most of…
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Marriage, Madness, and War
I fell in love because Michelle was gorgeous. I fell in love because we held long, intense conversations together. I fell in love because she was the most stable person I had ever met. I know that now. Back then, I was simply focused on her foxy-ness, and didn’t realize there was a subconscious voice…
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My Demons Scream For Nutella
I got a little too close to the core yesterday, when I wrote here on The Writing Bull. The image of the little nude boy in a tight cage did it. I know I got too close, because I went on a mini-binge. Suddenly, my body craved, not carrots or apples, but peanut butter, which…
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Meet My Amygdala
For years, I’ve known that the chemicals in my head don’t always do what they should, that the synapses weren’t always clicking the way they ought. But I didn’t know why. Then I read about the amygdala, and its homeboys—the adrenal gland, hypothalamus, and pituitary. They control so much of us. They keep the plant…