My dreams are vibrant. My realities are surreal. I am ten individuals rolled into one. Each more distinct than the next. I have suicidal lows and highs that lead to ecstasy. My life is beautiful.
I don’t think anyone is normal. Everyone has their issues. I think with this (bipolar disorder), I am able to view things vividly with multi colored lenses and frequently take snapshots of those moments that matter; a trait most don’t have. I have an old soul. I know what has substance and do what I love because life is short and nobody has time to be caught up in the bullshit.
Is that romanticizing my life more than I should? I wouldn’t rule that idea out entirely… But with that being said, what is the true harm in romanticizing the faults that are associated with this disorder? Why can’t I say that these faults are things that behoove me rather than hinder me?
You may also be wondering how you romanticize a manic induced gambling frenzy or a suicidal depression. I say it makes you think more introspectively when you romanticize your life or aspects of it.
I feel things deeply; in other words, every time I gamble, I get high on it. The reels turn, frantically pulling on the lever to stop the reels in the winning position. It’s a game. My heart beats so loudly in my chest that I feel it in my ears. The sounds of jackpots ring nearby. I wonder when that will be me… As I keep putting money into the machine, the faster I start and stop the lever, the lines blur together, and the hours feel like only moments.
And the opposite is true. One mean thing could be said about me by a co-worker and what would only put a “normal” person into a bad mood momentarily, would put me into this self harming induced depression. Nobody likes me and if they seem like they like me, they are putting on a front. As I contemplate slitting my wrists and upper thighs, I determine that isn’t permanent enough. If no one likes me, why am I here?
Most of the time I go through a frenzy of emotions, but never one right after another. It’s also why I don’t use or partake in hard drug usage considering I know the first hit I take, I will die.
Not directly, but addiction runs through my veins stronger than oxygen and my own blood supply. It’s only a matter of time before I would sell everything in order to get some blow and pimp myself out if it meant I cold be high a little longer.
There is something kind of exciting about the idea of that to me; the source of freedom, yet extreme indebtedness to desire all at the same time. I would say, “just try it once”, but I know myself well enough that it won’t be just once. If the behavior I was doing before medication didn’t lead me to being a hooker on blow, nothing can.
But you didn’t ask about how I view my life, you asked if I would change it… for a non-bipolar life. The answer to that is no.
I am a true believer that God will only give you what you can handle and with that being said, apparently I can handle being a delusional and psychotic bipolar woman pretty good, I don’t think I can handle much other than this.
In all honesty, bipolar disorder can be easily managed with the right medication, therapy, and coping mechanisms. It’s a matter of wanting and willing to do what’s right for your body, just like it is a battle to quit smoking, drinking, or other various habits. It’s about seeking more than just yourself and for others.
It’s not easy to do, just like it’s not easy to quit smoking (God knows I’ve tried). But the hardest things to do are the most worthwhile to do. These past 4 months have been the hardest, yet most rewarding in the fact that I haven’t skipped my meds, I have been on top of communicating with myself and others, reached out to friends, old and new. I haven’t cheated in over 2.5 years and I have been fully committed to making things work with Diego, no matter how mad or upset he makes me.
Four months isn’t a long time, I know, but for me it feels like centuries in bipolar time. If I can commit to watching a two hour movie, I deserve a fucking award because my attention span is very small! My desire to be in a long term relationship is also very little because we have failed so many times in the past. Why would this be any different?
I think commitment wouldn’t be so challenging for me if I weren’t bipolar, but it’s not like I can wave a magic wand and make everything better. I think that’s one huge reason why bipolar challenges me because I am commitment phobic. Every part of me says to run right now and yet here I am, living with my boyfriend, on and off four years, only together this time around four months; I’ve only known the guy six, fucking years. You would think this urgency to run away to my “safe place” would go away. But no.
He’s obviously not going anywhere and I keep doing what I am supposed to do, so I guess I can say I am not going any where either. 🙂
Enough of my soapbox tonight…
Til next time,