I’m different. Like everyone else in the world for as long as I can remember I’ve spent time agonizing over the fact that I’m different from everyone else. I’m prone to deep thought and dark moody depressions. I’m much more plump, have been since I was a toddler. I’m short, I’m slower in any kind of sport you can name and wildly uncoordinated. Life when exposed to other children would be much better if we were all made from the same cookie cutter in our formative years.
In 2019 I found that I was different in one very special way: I have Bipolar Disorder. (See My Bipolar) When I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder I was not shocked. Before I had my first appointment with my psychiatrist I’d googled my symptoms and when every search leads you to the same conclusion you kinda get the idea. I was not prepared for the psychological ramifications of what being Bipolar meant or how it would change my life. All I knew was that being Bipolar was bad and I was doomed! My first real reaction was… “It can’t be true.” “Whoa, step back from her. She’s bipolar.” “Might want to take a little care with this one.” “She’s a ticking time bomb.” These are thoughts that I‘d had about bipolar disorder before I was diagnosed because bipolar disorder has a certain stigma attached to it.
After the diagnosis became real came the fallout. I felt betrayed. Why? When you look up the definition of bipolar and its most common symptoms my picture should be there as a prime example. When I looked back on my life filled with a chaotic childhood, angry outbursts, failed relationships, deep depressions and suicidal tendencies I realized I was truly the poster child for bipolar disorder. It was obvious… And I felt that someone should have told me. I felt like everyone else in my world knew what was wrong with me but had let me blindly struggle through life. With this discovery also came waves of humiliation. I was embarrassed at being so obviously defective and felt that those who “knew” had been making fun of me.
Later I felt hopeless and extremely resentful of the need to take medications because my brain “just doesn’t work like everyone else’s.” (see Bipolar Medications) It scary to think that your brain, the very thing that makes you you, is not working like it should and makes you want to do things that you normally, as in the “normal” you, wouldn’t do. I went through an identity crisis because I felt that bipolar disorder may or may not have influenced every major decision in my life, pushing or pulling me in random directions according to the mental weather of the day. If bipolar created me who the hell was I really???
It took at least a couple of years of therapy to get my head on relatively straight. Me, who scoffed at the need for any kind of therapy. At lease for myself. Because there was nothing wrong with therapy for some people but I certainly didn’t need it. I’ve learned that yes, bipolar disorder did likely influence decisions in my life, even some big ones, but ultimately I made those decisions, not my disorder.
Before I was diagnosed I thought only of what I’d heard about bipolar disorder:
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- Highs (high energy, risk taking, loss of touch with reality)
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- Lows (low energy, depression, suicidal thoughts)
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- Wild mood swings between the two
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- Anger/Aggression
What I didn’t know was that Bipolar Disorder makes you susceptible to “mixed episodes” when you feel both highs and lows, anxiety disorders, paranoia and the biggest shock to me: hypersexuality. With the worry that Bipolar Disorder molded my life was a little light at the end of a tunnel. Maybe I’ve been too hard on myself in the past over some of the mistakes I’ve made. Did I single-handedly ruin both my first and my second marriage or should I cut myself a break and admit that there were more problems in those relationships than my inability to control myself.
I’m still resigning myself to the fact that I’m not “bipolar” but that I have bipolar disorder, though you’ll see me use the terms interchangeably. I’m still figuring out what it means in my life and how to cope with the ups and downs and in betweens. I’m trying, hoping, praying I’ll learn how to accept the fact that I’m just a little different than other people and that differences can not only be appreciated but also celebrated. I believe that this is how God made me and I’m determined I will fulfill whatever purpose He had in giving me this “gift”. In the end we’re all a little mad and searching for our own version of Wonderland.