Twas a Bipolar Night Before Christmas – 2012 version

‘Twas the (Bipolar)  night before Christmas, when all through the place
No one was stirring far out of their space;
The stockings were hung by a manic with “care,”
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were spread out all over on their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums jumbled ’round in their heads;
And ma in her bathrobe, and I in my ballcap,
Had just lain down for our first actual nap.

When out on the lawn there was such a noise,
I sprang from my bed expecting ninja boys.
I tripped over my foot and ran into the window,
Threw up the blinds and broke the damn window.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen show
Made a strong glare so I had trouble gazing below.
When what to my burning eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight burnt-out reindeer.

With a sad little driver, not lively or quick,
I knew in a heartbeat it must be St. Nick
More rapid than eagles his reindeer they came,
And he mumbled, and grumbled, and shouted their names;

“Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!
Get on top of that porch! Now top of that wall!
Now hurry up dammit, hurry it all!

And then, in a heartbeat, I heard on the roof
The annoying, loud scratching of each tiny hoof.
As I sucked in my breath, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nick fell to the ground.

He was dressed all in filth, from his head to his foot,
And his face was all tarnished with tears, ash, and soot.
A bundle of toys he dragged behind his back,
Depression symptoms he sure did not lack.

His eyes suddenly twinkles! His dimples showed merry!
His cheeks were like rosebuds, his nose a big cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow

The mood in St. Nick had changed in a beat,
From a sad little man, to a man I thought neat.
He had a broad face and a big ol’ round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

It was Christmas and here stood a right jolly old elf
And I suddenly laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
With a wink of his eye and I nod of his head,
I suddenly knew I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
After filling the stockings he turned with a jerk,
Laying his finger on top of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He jumped in his sleigh, to his team gave a clap,
And once they were gone I almost needed a slap.
But I heard him call out, as he flew out of sight,
“Stable Christmas to all, and take your meds, alright?”

This has been meant as comic relief, and nothing else. If I can’t laugh at myself (being bipolar myself) then that’s just sad. I hope you have enjoyed this version. Last year I did a majorly different version, check that one out too!

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas- modern bipolar edition

It was the night before Christmas and nobody could sleep, not even the very sad mice. The stockings were hung, in a manic phase in October, from the ceiling. They were hoping Santa would be a little late so their meds could kick in and they could sleep. The children were sleeping passed out all over the place, probably dreaming of dancing plums. Mom in her pjs and me in my slippers had just gone to bed but were still staring at the ceiling. Suddenly out on the lawn there was a noise, I jumped up and called 911 because it might be ninjas coming in. I went to the window and threw the drapes open. The moon was very pretty and twinkly on the new snow. Suddenly I saw a tiny sleigh and eight little tiny reindeer. There was a wide-eyed driver who was very fast, I thought I was hallucinating Santa. And he whistled and shouted but no one understood him because he was speaking too quickly, I thought one word was Comet, but I’m not sure. The reindeer took the sleigh towards the next house, then changed their mind and went left, then right, finally landing above me. Santa was holding onto his hat, toys too. Then I probably heard hooves on the roof. Santa flew down the chimney and landed on his ass. He had on lots of fur, which he bought in a manic state and regretted. He was covered in fireplace ash and I worried he would get it everywhere. He was suddenly dragging the toys around out of exhaustion. He looked like he needed a hug. His eyes -they were darting around! his dimples -weren’t showing because he didn’t smile. His face was pale and I worried. His mouth was frowning and the beard on his face was dirty and messy and he had a cigarette hanging out and the smoke encircled his head and looked like a wreath. He had a broad face and a big round belly that shook when he tried to say, “Ho Ho Ho.” He was fat and looked really depressed for an elf. I thought he was hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing. A wink of his left eye, then his right and a jerk of his head. He didn’t say anything but sighed as he threw presents under the tree randomly, cried on the stockings, then turned around, He put his finger on his nose and tried to nod and rose slowly up the chimney with mumbled words of anger. He dragged himself into the sleigh, pulled out a whistle and blew up. I heard him shout, as he drove out of sight, “Try to have a stable Christmas, and I hope the meds help!!”

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