More of us bipolar folks need to speak out because when you hear about a bipolar person in the news, they’re doing something insane.
So many people think we’re just raving lunatics. In my writer’s group the other night, I was workshopping my novel, which is based on my own life. One of the guys in the group said: “It’s such a bummer that she has to be bipolar.” Well, yeah, I guess it is a bummer. So often I think I just want this all to go away. I want to stop thinking about the medication. I want to stop thinking that I’ve just said or done something crazy.
But then, there are other days, like today, when I think: this is part of who I am. And maybe I was put on this planet to speak out. To give other people who are just experiencing these frightening symptoms hope that they can live a “normal” existence. No matter how crazy you get, you can always turn back from that black hole of madness and find peace. Medication has saved me, but I don’t take so many meds that I feel drugged. At this point I have realized that the dance of controlling my mood swings–the hypomania, the depressions, the pills, the therapy–that’s who I am.
I mean, if I could magically make it all disappear and still feel filled with life and energy, I’d do it. But if making the symptoms totally disappear means sucking some of the color out of my life, well, then, I’d rather have the ups and downs and live in a more colorful world.