Feelings on Shuffle

I was diagnosed as bipolar when I was 30. For me, it feels like my brain has a switch that flips without warning. 

One moment I’m in one state, and the next, it’s like I’m seeing the world through a completely different lens. It’s not just mood swings—it’s a shift in how I feel, think, and process the world. There’s no clear pattern or trigger. No rhyme or reason I can rely on to predict when it’s coming.

Over the years, I’ve gotten better at understanding and managing it, even if I can’t control it. I’ve also learned to communicate what’s happening when I’m in the middle of it, and the people around me have become more understanding. 

That’s made such a difference—feeling like I don’t have to explain myself perfectly for others to get it. But still, it’s something I have to live with and navigate every day.

This piece is my way of showing what it feels like. The two sides of the face represent the extremes I experience. The blue side feels fragmented, like it’s falling apart, melting, and slipping away. It doesn’t make sense—the lens of reality feels distorted and unclear, like nothing is solid or grounded. 

On the other side, the reds and oranges burn with intensity, overwhelming and all-consuming. Together, they show the two very different states I move between.

They’re connected but feel like they’re from different worlds. The fragmented shapes represent the disjointedness of living with these extremes, like being split between two versions of myself that don’t always align.

I wanted the colors and shapes to feel jarring but also balanced because, even in the chaos, there’s a kind of rhythm to it. 

It’s not always easy to make sense of, but this is my way of capturing it—how it feels to constantly shift between two sides, never fully in control, but always figuring out how to keep moving forward.