Frank M. Anderson's Writing

Tag: depression

  • On Change, Catastrophe, and Balance

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    For a long time, I believed that change meant death—or at least the possibility of it. Not metaphorical death. Not ego death. Real, physical, catastrophic endings. That belief didn’t come from nowhere. It came from impact. From accidents. From moments where the world didn’t just shift, but hit. The waterfall incident. My teeth. A baseball…

  • The Moon in My Mood: How Lunar Cycles Show Up in My Bipolar Blogging

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    I’ve always known that bipolar comes in cycles—bursts of manic energy, followed by the crash of depression. But recently I discovered something I didn’t expect: my moods don’t just swing on their own schedule. They seem to move with the moon. Looking back at my blog stats, I could already see the rhythm: a manic…

  • Mania, Productivity, and the Montage of Joy

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    There’s a strange mixture of energy running through me right now. Mania has me up at three in the morning, typing away, words pouring out faster than I can believe. Thirteen chapters in a day. It feels incredible, but it’s also terrifying. Mania is dangerous. It’s not just “being in a good mood.” It’s a…

  • Why I Quit Taking My Meds—and Why I’m Back on Them Now

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    ⚠️ Content Warning:This post discusses mental health, psychiatric medication, and experiences with bipolar disorder, including references to mania and depressive lows. If you’re in a fragile state or easily triggered by these subjects, please take care while reading.___________________________________________________________________ I’m going to start by taking the coward’s way out—because the truth is, I don’t have one…

  • The Life of a Bipolar Writer

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    I don’t talk about my bipolar near as much as I should.Partly out of shame and frustration. Partly out of fear. People have seen the worst examples of bipolar disorder and there’s a deep, quiet terror that creeps in when I imagine them projecting that onto me. The word alone—bipolar—carries a heavy load. It comes…

  • The Beauty in the Dark

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    Listening to Dax Riggs. Living with depression. Creating something from the wreckage. I’ve been immersing myself in Dax Riggs’ latest album, 7 Songs for Spiders. His music is sludgy, sexy, and unapologetically dark. It’s not just heavy—it’s beautifully heavy. Like molasses running through rusted wires. Like grief that’s learned how to dance. I keep coming…

  • On Suicide

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    Some truths need to be said out loud. ⚠️ Content Warning:This post contains open and unfiltered discussion of suicide, depression, emotional isolation, and male mental health. It is not a cry for help. It is a lived truth.If you are in immediate danger or crisis, please reach out. In the U.S., you can contact the…

  • May 18: For Ian, For Chris, For the Ones Still Here

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    On this day—May 18—both Ian Curtis and Chris Cornell took their own lives. Two musicians, generations apart, whose voices changed everything for people like me. Ian made anguish poetic. Chris made screaming sound like a form of prayer. They were different, but they understood the same darkness. They gave shape to it. They made it…

  • Bipolar Is My Superpower (And Sometimes My Curse)

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    I live with bipolar disorder. Not in the abstract. Not as a label. Not as a quirky footnote in a conversation. I live with it. Every day. It has cost me jobs, tested relationships, and taken me to the edge more times than I care to count. But it’s also shaped the way I feel…

  • On endings.

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    I’m about to write the last few paragraphs of my first draft. It’s got me feeling very emotional, even though I’m turning around and re-tooling the whole first five chapters next week. Despite that work looming ahead of me, I will still have a book that is readable from start to finish, even if it…