I Didn't Ask to Be Crazy

By Sadee Bee

I Didn't Ask to Be Crazy is a collection of poetry and personal essays centered around mental illness. Sadee Bee shares her journey with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and PTSD, through creativity and raw honesty. It is a collection designed to convey the message "you are not alone." Sadee Bee is an up-and-coming poet with gr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sadee Bee
• Release date: Apr 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9780578394763

Sadee Bee

Sadee Bee is a poet and author residing in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She has an Associate's degree in Liberal Arts and has been writing since she learned to hold a pen. An avid reader from a young age, Sadee Bee spent her time creating her own stories both on paper and in life. Diagnosed in her early twenties with Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and PTSD; she spent a long time trying to make sense of her own world and mind. Poetry, personal essays, and occasionally fiction have been an outlet for heavy feelings and past traumas. Sadee uses her work to shine a light on the hidden parts of mental illness and the effects of childhood trauma. She also speaks to her specific experiences regarding trauma and mental illness as a black, queer woman in black communities. Sadee Bee is ever evolving as living with mental illness is never a straight line and hopes to be a voice and advocate for those like her.Sadee Bee currently lives a quiet life with her spouse and two cats. A chronic homebody, Sadee relishes in a day of silence to read, write, or sleep.

Book preview

I Didn’t Ask to Be Crazy

I

have thought about death more often than I believe the average person does. I do not claim to know the thoughts of an ordinary person, but I am not an ordinary person. Most say that ordinary cannot be defined, that normal is just a word, and most people don’t fit it. What one might think is normal is another person’s insane. Either way, I’ve always known that something in my mind is broken or perhaps shifted at a different angle. I don’t think about death in the way of contemplating my existence, though I do have my fair share of existential crises. I have accepted that death is a part of life: an avoidable cost, the true price of living. Everything and everyone has an end. The gag is that none of us know when to pay our toll.

Death, or the thought of it, has been my constant companion for many years. Really, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been either passively suicidal or actively suicidal. The movement of the stars can be tracked just as well as the cycles of the moon; the phase of my suicidality cannot. Every night I go to sleep and my brain resets however it feels. When my alarm clock wakes me, the entire day is a gamble from the moment I sit up in bed. Some days, I snooze my alarm and don’t get out of bed. I call out of work and promise to try again tomorrow. Other days, I wake up, put on my happy face, and do what I need to do. Either scenario is draining, both mentally and physically.

See, most days, I can function. To exist on autopilot in order to keep my job and maintain a place in this world. The keyword here is function, as a lot of the time I’m not truly living. When I’m passively suicidal, not fully in a depressive or manic episode, I can push through. I am able to put on the facade that I am a happy, well-adjusted person. Many people in my life see me as a bubbly, chill girl, a competent human being. It is