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.
 

Zero to Sixty

I can't seem to do anything moderately.  I feel like a broken appliance - you have to stick a paperclip in just the right place in order to activate a happy medium.  It's frustrating and it makes disposing the appliance more tempting than fixing it at times.  I'm being melodramatic.

When I initially tried to get my life back on track, I felt like I had suggestions coming at me from all directions.  "You need to go to AA."  "You need to make new friends."  "You need therapy."  And the message being projected was that I had to take all of these suggestions.  Some people might tell me that's incorrect, but that's what the majority of people I encountered were telling me.  My first instinct when told I have to do anything is to put up my fists, cry bullshit, and tell you why you're wrong.  I put my mind in Low and I failed.

When I tried again, I heard the same thing. "You have to take the suggestions."  Since I failed in Low, I decided to try High.  I jumped into them with both feet and did everything that I was told to do.  In a matter of months, I was going on AA commitments, studying to volunteer, reading all of the self-help literature...  I was overwhelmed, way out of my comfort zone, and I failed.

Then I heard, "Take what you need and leave the rest."  This defied the idea that I should pick and choose only the elements that were right for me.  You're made to feel selfish sometimes if you take this path, but I also can't get behind what makes me feel wrong inside.  I don't want to change my life with religion.  That's not how my God works.  I don't want to do 12-steps.  Why?  If I'm living life the way that I morally feel is correct, then I shouldn't have to work out resentments or make amends.  Life takes effort, but shouldn't be about effort.  Live, laugh, love - with yourself and others.  And when I do these things, I become content... peaceful... level.  There's no pressure.  I'm making progress, but I'm not moving quickly enough to trip over my own feet.  A nice Medium setting.

Maybe this is coming from new medication changes and my brain is trying to find a happy medium of activity.  I'm doing my best to concentrate on the 'little' things that I can work on, like simply healing.  For example, because of my medication, I've gained a substantial amount of weight in a very short amount of time.  So, today, I did twenty minutes of exercise.  An hour was impractical because of an injury and the heat, but I also didn't let those reasons stop me completely.  Physically, I won't see that effort for quite some time.  Mentally, I feel better today and just today.

So, I'll try to stick to small accomplishments and be genuinely happy with the results.  If I don't set the bar as damned high as I usually do, maybe I won't be completely crippled.