Ode to Cyclothymia

A creative assignment for psychopathology class

One, of the past two years - my mind spent indulging in
highs and lows, teetering upon the fulcrum of life’s

manageability scale. If not yet outwardly,
I have discovered a strength of the inner sort.

I am a feeler. This flame within, you see – it guides
my spirit along the buttered rails upon which these peaks

and valleys lie. The fuel to my force – love/hate,
black/white, sane/insane – a constant game of

catch, my state of being – the ball, passed repetitively
between two well-fed participants. This agent

of contrast, oversells my willingness and capabilities,
yet disregards instinctual penchant for balance.

This, is a soul’s best, perhaps confused attempt at guidance to destiny.
Not quite what I imagined when envisioning the ‘circle of life’.

I lie awake, feeling the need to tackle all of the problems, though
in my phase of conquering, I only tend to create more.

Burned out, I then become – swallowed by a flood
of loss, sadness, grief, disbelief, and guilt.

Help me to find absence of duality between the
not-so-sexy curves of my sine-wave stylistic mood

What came first? The fringe of a dystopia, or
the cyclothymic patient, verging upon the next level?