The Land of Drought
shermanalexie.substack.com
After my second bipolar collapse, I traveled to the high desert for residential treatment. One night, stoned on sedatives, I watched three deer walk so close that I could've touched them. Ten years earlier, after my first bipolar collapse, I traveled to the low desert for residential treatment. One day, stoned on sedatives, I watched a tarantula chase a lizard up a drain pipe. The desert might be austere but the bipolar mind is verdant with beauty and fear. I think the tarantula and lizard were real but I'm almost positive that I imagined the deer.
Had those blue tonged deer kissed you, you would have known then of their reality.
Such a strong and truly magical poem about a sadly surreal disorder that you have found a touch of order in from time to time. Bravo all 'round.
Like all decent people, I was taught never to find humor in someone else's afflictions, so I make this comment after what I hope is a respectful delay and with some trepidation. But Sherman, I live in the "low desert", and there are far more tarantulas and lizards around my neighborhood than there are drain pipes or downspouts. So maybe consider if the latter was the more likely hallucination?