My Alice and Me

    Sometimes my life is like falling down a rabbit hole… a downward, dizzying spiral leading to some questionable events. I relate to Alice’s fall and then her quest to find her way back home all too well. See, despite all the amazing things and people she met along the way, Alice realizes that all she wants is to get back home, away from all the madness. I live with Bipolar Disorder and sometimes all I want is to get back to a state of normalcy. Sadly, sometimes I forget what it’s like to truly feel like me. I start to question what’s normal and how to function, which is similar to what Alice went through during her excursion underground.

    Alice is just a little girl of seven-years-old, whereas I’m a woman of 35, yet still her adventures intrigue me so. I can almost imagine myself talking to scornful flowers when I hear my brain be “mean” to me, as I put it, lying about so many a thing. Trying to find my way back to normalcy becomes an elusive chase of a disappearing, smiling cat, who just isn’t helpful in the least. My medication changes make me feel like I’m eating different sides of a mushroom or tasting little “Eat Me” cakes, one making me bigger and another smaller. My psychiatrist could be the wise Caterpillar, trying to lead me in the right direction. Unfortunately, with mental illness there is no right direction, only hopeful guesses.



    I have lived with Bipolar Disorder for about 12 or so years now. It started as clinical depression when I was a teenager and I was told that I had a 50/50 chance of it developing into Bipolar later in life. I got the lucky seat at the tea party apparently and for as long as I can remember, this has been my life. I try not to think “I am Bipolar”, only rather “I have Bipolar”, but that is sometimes hard when it takes such a hold on my entire life. I’ve had a hard time with keeping jobs in the past, relationships can be troubled, even just my social life suffers.

    It’s not all bad. Just like Alice in her wanderings, I have encountered some wondrous effects that my Bipolar has given me. I wouldn’t be the person I am without it. As I said, it affects my whole life, and this couldn’t be more true. My good days are brighter than maybe the average person’s because I see less of them and try my best not to take them for granted. I’m more compassionate than some because I never want anyone to feel alone. I try my very best to always be kind because I understand that you can’t always know what heartbreak is hidden behind a person’s smile. I feel everything immensely and I give all of myself in everything I do. It is exhausting, but honestly, my life can still be very rewarding.



I can almost envision Alice and I walking hand in hand among the croquet match, listening to the Queen of Hearts demand her bounty of rolling heads, and trying to make heads and tails of who is winning the confounded game. Am I leading her to safety or is she leading me? No matter, at least we have each other. And that’s just how it feels… Alice’s presence in my life is a comfort; my fascination with her gives me something to hang on to when all else is out of my control. These stories written by a mathematician over 150 years ago have given me a way out of my own madness and into another world of possibilities; a world with talking flowers and grinning cats, bread-and-butterflies and rocking-horseflies, and of course, a little girl that is just trying to make it home.