It is a weird thing to have a mental illness. It consumes you at times and can also lay dormant for weeks or months. It is all I think about and it is also the last thing on my mind. Ever since I have been diagnosed as Bipolar II I have been very aware of my feelings and my actions to the people in my life.
I learned that my manic episodes were not full blown compared to most. I get edgy, picky, shaky, and my body must be moving. Here is a question for you. Would you rather go into the basement and play with the new Christmas toys with the family or clean the house? Easy answer, you would rather play in the basement with the toys. Today I chose to clean the house. I knew I was no one to be around today. I knew I was missing out on some great times with the family, but I knew I would be overly critical over nothing, I would be too edgy. I wouldn’t be fun to my family. So I opted for some alone time for me to try to talk myself off of the ledge, to gather my thoughts. I hate that my manic week has left me feeling this way.
I am afraid that the medicine I have been on for over 6 months isn’t really working as well as I would like it to be. I am going to consult with my doctor, naturally, but I am just talking it all out here. I want a happier life for my family. I want to be better for them. It is frustrating that I can’t do anything about the way I am. I was born this way and I have to sometimes struggle to get through each day, just to wake up and do it all over again.
Not everyone who has a mental illness is a danger to themselves or to the people around them. I would certainly never have any reason or thoughts towards hurting people. Hell, I hate disciplining the little monsters because I think they’ll think I’m the mean parent . And sometimes I take my mania out on them. Telling them to constantly stop what they are doing, all because it is agitating my manic state. Sometimes I am the mean parent because my brain isn’t functioning up to its full ability.
People have called me brave for putting my emotions out there on my blog. Some have yelled at me for doing so. Some people have even stopped by to tell me that I have helped them understand their own emotions better. If I can help one person with bipolar, then I have done my job. I feel that by hiding my emotions I am not being the person who I really am. I feel like I am living a secret life with bipolar. I need to accept bipolar as my ‘dark passenger’ (thanks, Dexter), and move on each day. I will struggle. I will stumble. I will fall. But you will always see me get back up. I will always try again. I will always want to be a better person.
This has been the roughest week to date while medicated. I hope that this next week brings me some peace and maybe a little understanding of how to help myself through the rough patches. Either way, I know that I am not alone. I have a great support system and they understand how hard I am trying.
Phew! With all of that off of my chest it is time to turn in for the night and dream of my 7-miler tomorrow. Have I mentioned how normal I feel when I run? I feel as though everything has been lifted off of my shoulders and my dark passenger leaves me alone.