I Hate bipolar, i love bipolar - Even if an illusion, a lucky one to meRead Now
NOTE TO READER. This is a story submission to our Accelerating Mental Wellness Campaign from a stigma fighter. As part of our social change campaign to co-create stigma free workplaces built on a foundation of empathy with needed mental health programs and supports, we invite people to share their stories with us to help build the human case. Please join us in thanking Mehar, who finds within herself the courage to not only share here, but also uploads a selfie to our Wall of Solidarity, taking another brick out of the wall of stigma, signs our We Are All Worthy change.org petition, and shares her reasons why on LinkedIn, asking others to sign too. Mehar, you truly are a stigma-fighter superhero! And, we so love and appreciate you. May your inner light continue to shine on brightly.
When manic, it is about wanting to change the entire world and believing I can. I truly live the words “the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
And it is not always a delusion.
If I can brace it, channel it and welcome it. I can be just crazy enough. Just a little less crazy than the bad while braver than those who let logic come in the way and play it safe.
They say it's in my head and I say yes, you are right, It is! but they don't believe it's true.
Would it be truer if your brain was on the outside, I ask? Wouldn’t YOU do everything to protect it …anything that is needed? Why is it on me to teach you when you are the ignorant one?
Doctors say “Let’s treat the highs first.” I don’t trust them.
I feel exceptionally creative, powerful both physically & mentally. And, oddly spiritual. That to me is the best part. I can read the signs of the universe.
But this phase transitions into a paranoia where I think my doctors are conspiring against me, and the entire world is my enemy.
It is a constant battle because the highs bring out the best in me but the lows are my enemy. I know they are both liars, and still they are not.
Unhealthy high horse of self-righteousness, over-confidence, grandiosity and detachment from reality. The racing, obsessive yet beautiful ideas but that incoherent pressured speech… where they get lost and so does everyone around me. Those profound conversations, my creative hunger! Am I making the best speech?
Things I never said before, things I have never ever heard. “So profound” my friends would say, but my poor luck “what, what did I just say?!”
lost in a memory fog, I am stuck in the middle of the best version of myself and the worst one.
The bickering breaks me down. In my darkest moments, I fear the most, I see my universe collapse, and the signs fade ... no matter how much I stretch my arms.
And then the whole sky comes down falling on me. And, for some strange reason, that sky is grey and dark and awfully quiet around me. The tunnel vision, it is surreal.
And then, it grasps me in its arms, but it doesn’t want me to know what ‘it’ is. The anxiety feels like a gremlin sitting on my shoulder, whispering lies in my ears every moment of the day. But then the gremlin leaves. I just feel awfully lonely.
The memory of my high-self is what keeps me going. I believe in all my dreams, hopes, and thoughts that were racing in my mind, and I pray I will remember them.
I know now, from the help of my same therapists, doctors, and the loving community, that this is no illness. This is as humanly as possible I can respond to the miracles and trials of life.
there is help. there is hope. But wouldn't it be amazing to seize that just crazy enough moment forever?
Heck yeah! Here’s where I start. I sleep! Tired or not, depressed or not, my deep sleep is the place I start. Self-care, boundaries, and rest. I don’t need to earn, they are the natural states I was ripped off of.
I don’t call myself manic for my great ideas. I own my brilliance. But I pick them one by one and contain myself with discipline and ask for help when I want. I am beyond those checklists of symptoms and the labels been put on my every action.
I speak up, stand up for myself and do the same for everyone.
“I carefully listen to the joys and waves of laughter and the cries of those who had been silent for a while as I march on. Those ‘silenced’ will roar one day to their glory, and in their roar, the stigmatic words of hate, judgment, and despise will fade.”
I know it’s a swing so come join me, why not!
My lows are mine, my highs are too. Going so deep in my life would be impossible, if it weren’t for this Bipolar Disorder we call.
What if I am just wired differently, like so many are. My anxiety is my yearning, my depression is my cry for rest, my mania is my higher-self. All this magic is real…as real it could be.
And even if it is an illusion, it is a lucky one.
P.s. stepping out of my comfort zone into the comedy zone.
My biggest inspiration is Tim Ferriss who flipped his bipolar into learning everything he could do. One thing he said that stuck with me: if you want something new don't go after what's already created. Create something YOU need the most. For me, I stepped out of my comfort zone and onto the stage. I stood up and started making jokes about being bipolar. My mother couldn't stop laughing nor could the audience. But this was as much for me as it was for them, if not more so. I hope you enjoy.