There was a little girl
who had a little curl
right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good
she was very very good
but she was bad she was horrid!
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There was a little girl
who had a little curl
right in the middle of her brain swirl
when she was good
she was very very good
during a happy hypomanic mood pole
but when she was bad she was very very bad
during a depressed or extreme manic mood pole
This little girl grew up to be a lady with a Bipolar brain
choosing not to let her symptoms
leave a permanent lasting life stain
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The first section of this poem is an old nursery rhyme that I have always remembered since I was a little girl. It has always stayed in my mind and reminded me of myself and my Bipolar brain.
For fun, I decided to add another section of the poem to convey the message of the little girl with a little curl right in the middle of her forehead, all grown up living her life with her Bipolar brain.
You will notice that I refer to my illness as my Bipolar brain a lot as I like the sound of that better for some reason and I don’t like saying I have a disorder. Also, I prefer to call Bipolar Disorder a bipolar disease as that is what it actually is. My illness is actually a disease that is in my brain. Bipolar Disorder is a Bipolar Disease, which is a brain disease.
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My Loud Whispers of Hope 