1. I am a beloved, holy city, surrounded by barbed wire. My tribe protects me. Offers me advice.

2. I watched the Casey Anthony trial religiously before my stroke. The night before brain surgery I watched in my hospital bed. Nurses offered funny movies to watch instead, but no.

3. Years later, some woman on Facebook puts on insanely detailed blue eye makeup and tells the story of the Casey Anthony trial. I can’t stop watching. By the end, when she is done with her makeup, I’m shaking. By the end I’m far gone. If it could happen to this healthy girl, surely it could happen to Little Miss Bipolar 1 With Rapid Cycling & Panic Disorder.

4. Suicidal ideation blooms wildly throughout my brain until it is all I think of, stealing all other thoughts.

5. I have to tell everyone I’m suicidal-ish. It stays with me like a fever as I text, talk, explain I looked up how much Ambien to overdose on. I’m scared that if I’m not 100% honest I will unravel without anyone noticing. I’ll leave a note that says I’m a burden and slip away.

6. Casey didn’t use a bullet. It was quieter than all that. It was chloroform. It was probably an accident.

7. Crawling through petals, my three year old takes deep breaths and we sigh “ahh” on one of our many walks. She touches her nose and I say “nose.” She touches her mouth and I say “mouth.” I’m smitten with this girl. I miss her when she goes to bed.

8. But, the baby.

Is it possible I could go mad and do something horrendous?
I’ve gone very mad before.

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