Bipolar. Bipolar. Bipolar. I am proud to be bipolar. After nearly nine years of dealing with this awful disease that gives us delusions and paradise...sometimes simultaneously....I've decided to write a book about dealing with the illness and how it manifested for my character (of course, of which has a lot of me in her). It is the sequel to my second book and I find that this one is a bit like Sylvia Plath finds her demons and her humor all at the same time. Although, I don't know for sure if Plath was bipolar...anyone who wants to stick your head in an oven makes one wonder. Perhaps just major depression.
I've had 5 or so book signings in the past few months and one of the first things I say to my audience is that I am bipolar. We bipolars need to come out of the closet! I came out of the gay closet....but this one is actually harder. I've been to the brink of madness, been suicidal, been to the other dimensions. But, lo, with a good smack of Lithium and lots of therapy, I continue to stay sane for the masses.