Let’s talk about it. Mental Illness. Bipolar. Depression. Whatever ails you. No one wants to talk about it. They would rather live their carefree Tinder/Facebook/Twitter/Instagram lives. But for those of us who live in reality and have to deal with real shit, let’s talk about it.
What is it like to have a mental illness? Fucked up and unfair. The only ways to describe it. The highs and lows I feel on a daily basis make my head spin and I can’t even make heads or tails of it. I am bored, but I want to do nothing. I want to connect with people, but I don’t want to connect. i want to go out, but I don’t want to go out. Round and round in an endless circle of uncertainty and misdirection.
Everything feels like a battle. Getting out of bed. Taking a shower. But I can do it. That’s what I tell myself each day. My sleeping is atrocious. I finally get to sleep at 6am and wake up at 3pm when the day is half over and I don’t give a crap. What is the point to this life anyway? Why didn’t I off myself years ago?
There is a simple answer to that question. Because I am an unique, artistic, beautiful individual who has a lot left in her to say and to contribute to the world. Yeah most of my life was a manic, alcoholic hell. But that’s what made me into what I am today. Fact of the matter is, I haven’t had a drink since the end of December, and I am not going down that road again. I have managed to hold on to my sobriety and that is a victory and milestone in itself and I should be proud of that.
I should be proud to have bipolar, and you know what I am. We FEEL what others don’t feel. We THINK the way others don’t think. We EXPRESS what others can’t even begin to comprehend. Mental illness is a gift, and the greatest minds of our times suffered from it, although they didn’t put on a label on it back then the way we do today. I am gifted. I am an artist. I am a visionary. And you know what screw the world and their judgmental views. They will never understand me, or what it is like to be me. The average person would buckle under the pressure and kill themselves instantly if they were to live one day inside my head, because most people are weak. It takes bravery to have a mental illness, undeniable bravery. And I think that’s what society has forgotten.
Instead they have locked us in a cage of judgment. “The terrorist that shot up the school is believed to have mental illness.” “This bitch crazy she being all bipolar.” Hurtful statements expressed in the media and in everyday situations that makes me sick to my stomach. Sure, I am not denying that there are deeply disturbed people out there who could be harmful to others. But what ever happened to the days when they were considered just bad people? Why does every murderer or rapist these days have to be labeled “mentally ill?” It is something that is just skewed in most people’s limited vision perhaps, and it is no closer to being changed.
In light of all the negativity, I hide my bipolar. I hide it from potential dates, potential employers, even potential friends when I really shouldn’t have to do that, but I feel I must. This blog has become one of my only outlets to express what it’s really like to be bipolar in this day and age. And for those of you struggling, Psych Central is a great community to talk to others about your mental health and your current status.
I guess what I am trying to say is that even though I hide it, I wouldn’t want to be anything else. Most of my life I have wanted to trade my life in for someone else’s, but despite the constant shifting of moods, the mania, the depression, I wouldn’t be so ALIVE if it wasn’t for my bipolar. I see things and feel things in a way most people would kill for. That joy I feel from writing something amazing, or the tears I shed when watching a powerful movie, or even when I pray to God, is phenomenal. That outpouring of emotion that I feel is such a release not even the best orgasm can compare to it.
So remember, mental illness is not always a hinderance, and we mustn’t forget our gifts as well. We are the proud and the gifted individuals of the world, and even when we are beaten down, no one can get up and accomplish things like we can. We are so special, my tears are welling up thinking of how fuckin’ special we are. NEVER let anyone make you feel guilty for being different or having a mental illness, they could never be as beautiful or as special as you are even if they tried.
This post is dedicated to all of you. To all my brothers and sisters that LIVE and ARE the struggle every day. You are never alone.