Reseña del libro "The Bipolar Professor: A Survivor's Story (en Inglés)"
It was a death sentence. In 1975 acute promyelocytic leukemia killed virtually everyone it attacked. Everyone knew it but no one wanted to talk about it. I've read of families getting together and planning to have that last day. What kind of ceremony did they want, did they want to be buried or cremated? I didn't want to hear a word about it. Family and friends respected my wishes and not even a hint of these subjects ever came up. I had a plan and it was, were I going down, I was going down swinging. It's the only thing that sustained me in those days. Anger may well be part of what saved my life. I'd like to say I put on a brave face and happy disposition, The YNHH staff will tell you I did not. A hospital shrink had dubbed me the "angriest young man" she had ever met. No shit lady. She asked me "how are we doing this morning." I said, I'm dying, how are you? She never came back to visit. Of course, I was angry. Here I was a young man just starting college and just days ago believing I was in the best physical shape of my life. I had been happily courting coeds and here I was courting disaster - or rather disaster was courting me. No matter what I did I could not ease my restlessness, my insomnia, or depression but it would seem I was getting closer and closer to ending it once and for all. I simply did not want to exist anymore; it was all just too painful. The manic episodes - a source of excitement and creativity when I was younger - were increasing leading me to make choices that ended badly. Relationships with friends and family were becoming increasingly dysfunctional. Bipolar depression is almost impossible to describe. It's hard to understand if you haven't been the sun or looked into the abyss. Those of us who are Bipolar come to know depression as a living, breathing thing - itself devoid of light, sound, hope, will, desire, direction. Generally, only a manic episode will bring relief - the actual bliss when the weight is lifted, and your mind takes flight. I miss those times, even though they were brilliant on some days and terrifying on others. Before I understood what was going on, I would often refer to my life as a supernova - I would burn brightly for a time and then everything would implode.
