It takes lot of energy to write some things about myself, but it's good therapy. I have spent years of my life coping with (fighting) bipolar disorder, even before I was formally diagnosed. Now, I find out that my oldest brother (no blood relation) has been diagnosed. Something that I wouldn't wish on anyone, and my own brother is diagnosed. Of course, I witnessed him deteriorating before my own eyes, but it's something different to know.
It all leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, like my uncle's words at a family gathering: "Bipolar basically means 'I'm crazy as fuck and can't function in society.'" He said plenty of other things, of course, but those particular words latched onto my fragile mind like a life-draining leech. It's hard to function when your own family might hate you if they only knew. Of course, I sent an email to my uncle, expressing my hurt, so he'll know as soon as he checks that.
I wonder how my brother feels. Does he feel the way I once did? Does he feel relief at finally having a name for this illness? Does he feel anger towards life, his genetics, his upbringing, God, the healthier world? I simply must wonder, and I feel for my brother in all of the confusion and rage that comes with a diagnosis. But perhaps he is feeling relief in knowing, and that would make me somewhat glad. I hope he's not overtaken by the hopelessness and suicidal depression that once defined my life. A life defined by death.
Would I choose not to be bipolar if I could. Yes, in a heartbeat. Knowing that my entire life, from childhood on, would be affected, I would. Good things have happened as a result of bipolar. I view things differently than the average person, and I count that as a positive. I've met dozens of lovely people through my support group. I view life through bipolar-tinted glasses because my brain is wired differently. I view that difference as a good thing because the current system is flawed.
But would I give it back? Yes. But I'd take it on for my brother, too.
The Vanity Plates
2 weeks ago
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