A note written in a cab years ago
We should stop comparing mental illnesses to other health issues except the ones that are definitely taking over your life. Mental illnesses shape your personality whether you know it or not. I do the things I do always keeping in mind that there are consequences. The consequence being pulled back to the depths of depression.
When I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder type two less than a year ago, took me a while to relate but being the over thinking introspective person I am, I realised I had taken a lot of symptoms of the disorder as just part of my personality. I had been questioning things I do, decisions I make, things I say for years. I finally told myself I am just quirky, or different. There’s nothing wrong with that. After the diagnosis, I finally had some answers. Did that help? Nope. Just another label for who you are . Over the period of almost a year, I’ve been in therapy. I stopped taking my meds about four months ago after I lost my third job of the year. Fuck that. It was making me a different person, an indifferent person, a person without sensuality, sexuality, creativity. It wasn’t me. I went back to therapy and am making it work. As much as I can.
That’s not what I wanted to say though. Thing is, being bipolar is as big a part of me as my ability to hate honey Singh. It is not something I deal with. It’s not something I can put some cream on and hope it doesn’t show in the morning. Every decision I make, every little thing I do is influenced by how my brain works. I make sure I understand why I am thinking something before I act on it. It is tiring ; questioning every thought. However it is necessary so that I can do what’s best for me. So that I can function, hold a job, take part in activities and generally seem “normal” to the world.
Don’t get me wrong, I embrace my illness. I don’t shy away from disclosing it. More than 90% people give me meaningless advice or don’t understand or ask why I am depressed or the age old why do you need a therapist, just talk to me. Facepalm. My parents support me reluctantly, father keeps telling me it can be overcome if you have mental strength, my grandmother does not even begin to understand that mental illnesses are beyond institutional ones. After about a hundred weird conversations, we have agreed to disagree and they just want me to be happy. So therapy is supported although I have to remind my mother everytime that I can’t tell her what the therapist said.
I digress again. Just that kind of day. So I am saying that being bipolar affects me, my personality. Some days going to office is as big a deal to me as climbing everest. I have to often drive away suicidal thoughts. Existencial crisis is a small word compared to what I have in my head. I have also gotten so good at faking smiles and a personality that I think sometimes my close friends are fooled too. So when I do something irresponsible or just become apathetic, it bothers them and it should. I just realised today that I have such high standards of expectations from me that every time I disappoint someone I go through a guilt trip. I think I try too hard to be normal, to not inconvenience people. I already have a different life view than others, different lifestyle, I have lost more months in a year to just depressive episodes than I can count. I have lost people, opportunities, career options and just experiences.
Right now the focus is on me. I need to save myself before I can save others. It’s a full time job just being me, being comfortable, convincing myself to do what I should instead of what I want. So I need to embrace the side effects of my disorder. I am apathetic at times. I am highly irresponsible certain times. I am not a well balanced adult and I think the biggest problem is that I try to be. I really try to be normal. To laugh when others are around. To not bum people out with my thoughts. I should stop that.
Once a week a lovely person listens to my brain vomit and helps me find direction in life. May science bless him (atheist joke). I understand myself and adjust things a little. Is it easy? Hell no. Do I relapse to old habits? Yes. Will I continue with therapy? Absolutely. I recommend it.
Again, I digress. My mind is always running on two different trains of thought. I am always thinking about something else even when I am engrossed in some work. Even during sex. So processing thoughts is difficult.
But I try.
Every morning I evaluate how I am feeling. If I am happy for a period of time, I wonder if it’s hypomania. Most of the times it isn’t. Hypomania comes with other symptoms. Everytime I have depressive symptoms, I try to immerse myself in something else. I have through immense hard work trained my brain to think positively when I know a thought is a depressive thought. It does not take away the physical symptoms though. I feel tired, I lose apetite and have nightmares and bad dream cycles. I haven’t had a single dreamless sleep in over a year.
So just day to day living takes the toll out of me. Im a little proud of myself but I also worry everyday that depression will take over and I will be helpless.
Today I just realised, I cannot be a well adjusted adult. I have flaws. I need to be okay with the flaws. Not defend it. Not deny it. Just simply accept it.
I read about bipolar disorder from time to time. I know I am doing so much better than the others suffering. But that’s through sheer hard work and tiring brain work. You can’t quantify mental strength or see it in action. So to the world Im just another sometimes funny feminist killjoy.
Actually I am an enigma wrapped in an onion.
Adios. I have reached where I was going in the Uber.