Life is unpredictable for people with bipolar disorder. You wake up in a certain mood and it affects the rest of your day. Sometimes it could shift, but that doesn't always mean it's for the better.
Last August, I had reported symptoms of depression to my psychiatrist and he prescribed me an antidepressant, Wellbutrin, at the lowest dose. It helped alleviate my mood; suddenly, I was being more proactive and challenging myself.
But last weekend, I noticed I had more energy than usual. I was making offbeat decisions about my life that I thought sounded "cool and interesting." Luckily, I would talk to my mom about going through with the plans before actually doing it. She was able to make me see the absurdity in it.
Having been able to deter myself from a manic episode, I believe now that I wanted to be someone that I was not. That my manias typically tell me that I am not enough as I am right now. I'm so used to working hard to become something better that I forget who I was and really am. I'm fueled by jealousy and hatred to change, subconsciously telling myself that I am not enough.
Telling yourself you are not enough is dangerous. Because I am not that phrase. Each day I work on myself and I grow, which is more than what some people may say for themselves. I challenge myself not because I think I can do better but because I will always be a work in progress. So why not move in the direction that I want to move in instead of spiraling?
What I need to remember though about my episodes is knowing that my daydreams and fantasies cannot and will not capture all of my positivity and happiness. Happiness is a moment, a memory, that you have simply because you are alive. And if I am irrationally paranoid or fearful, then I need to know that it's just my mind and it's not my fault that my mind is more chemically imbalanced than others.
I will feel things to the extreme because that's just who I am, sensitive. So when these paranoid manias come, I need to be tougher than usual with myself. I need to know my strength and that it comes from something greater than me, something that loves me. I also need to know that these fearful, paranoid thoughts cannot hurt me.
But for the manias where I feel like there's nothing wrong with me, that I'm normal, in a sense, I'm right. About 5.7 million people in the United States are diagnosed with bipolar disorder. That's about 2.8% of the population. I believe I am normal for an instant because everything in my life is going fine. But I need to be honest with myself and look at the facts too. I came from a lonely childhood; my teenage years were full of angst and wanting to belong; I was lost in college and didn't know where to go or what my worth was.
My worth is in my writing though, in the way I run down inclines and into strange neighborhoods, in the way I hide in music. It's how I only feel alive and present when I write. So I need to stop telling myself I am a fool or not smart enough simply because I don't work at the same level as everyone else. I need to stop mimicking others and believing I can still be myself. My worth may be hidden, I may not know it well enough, but I have it and that means something. Each time I struggle with either manic or depressive episodes, I need to remember that what I do to fight it defines me and my episode does not.
The way you treat yourself at your worst defines your perspective and strength. So why not be kind, gracious, and generous? During these episodes, it's important that you love yourself. Giving up is not a display of love. Fight for yourself. Fight through the episode. It'll make you stronger.
