When white fades to blue.

People talk about how hard it is being bipolar. The drops and climbs. The murky gray in between. Yeah, it sucks. But do you know what sucks even more? The unexplainable drop triggered from deep within. I was enjoying my mania, thank you very much. It's the unexpected that hurts the most. The sudden aching and pull for sleep after many active nights. In the gray you have time to recover, to wake from the blue, to calm from the white. When the two combine suddenly, there's no space to breathe.
I just dropped. Ican barely see the surface anymore. The bright white disappeared into the depths of the dark blue. And I let myself fall deeper. I'm not ready to pick myself up yet. I almost want to swim deeper. It's been a while since I was this low. I wonder if I can still hold my breath this long. I used to be able to swim for months before lifelessly floating to the surface. I'll miss the white; I spent more time there than ever. I liked it, but I love swimming. It must be that masochistic side of me.
Sometimes I feel it coming, taunting me; "care for a dip?" But this time, this time I was thrown overboard with weights tied to my ankles. I thought I was safe, made it through the rapid still flying high. I never saw the deep plunge out of madness into sadness that led to my doom.