Dude!! You're Sick!

I've been having a harder time again reconciling that I do have a mental health disorder.  Some days I don't even blink at the thought, while other days I pretend that I'm perfectly 'normal'.  I take quite a bit of medication, so the doctors must be prescribing it for a reason.  Overall, I still feel the same 'normal'.  So am I really sick?  Do I have a defect?

I have several favorite scenes in Silver Linings Playbook, one of them being Pat and Tiffany's Raisin Bran date at the diner.  Tiffany accuses Pat, rightly, of thinking she's crazier than he is... and he doesn't deny it.  In fact, he shrugs at her like it's a simple matter of fact.  And if you plopped me back in a mental health unit right now, a mere three months since my last visit, I'd shrug and tell you the same thing.  I'm not crazy - you are!

Insulting, totally.  I'm just having a rough time with it.  In my own space, I only know that I feel a) not quite right, but b) that's normal.  And to have other people tell me, nicely, that I have a something wrong with me is kind of hurtful.  Yet, all the signs of problem living are around me - injured health, no finances, substance abuse, broken relationships, anti-social tendencies, pure stubbornness about almost everything... none of which is in any particular order.

So, I suppose this is good and bad.  The bad is pretty obvious.  If I don't listen to my counselors, deny that I'm an "unstable" bipolar (one who has yet to be treated appropriately, as I was recently told), and push away assistance, then I'm going to continue to have everything I listed above.  Nothing is going to change and I'll be swept under even quicker than I thought I was sinking before.

The good is that it can be treated, but it's going to take a lot of trust on my part.  I need to let go and trust that, when five doctors tell me that I have a disorder, I have a freakin' disorder.  'Normies' don't have to take their Lithium, Depakote and Geodon before bedtime (among other things) or track their weeks by how many therapy appointments they have.  When they're having a meltdown, I bet their first thoughts aren't of packing a bag so they have it if the ambulance arrives to take them back to the hospital.  Normie meltdowns pass and are usually harmless.  I'm not trivializing them, but they are different.  My meltdowns are Dangerous.

Everything happens for a reason, but I contest that the reason is not always good.  Regardless, if the reason is true, then I can't stop taking my meds and I can't pretend that the doctors are wrong, as much as I'd like to.  And when I have days where I feel like it's all in my head, I should know that I'm right.  All the more reason to continue treatment.

I tell you what... I wouldn't want to be one you Normies reading this because we in Bipolar-land are ridiculously difficult to figure out.  Sheesh.