Today, bipolar looks like being locked away from the world. It looks like two heavy doors and shatter proof windows separating me from my reason to get better in the first place. It looks like celebrating Mother’s Day with (mostly) gentle strangers. On the plus side, it looks like being able to concentrate on one thought at a time. I suppose that means the medicines are working. It’s the first day that I’ve been able to have a clear thought without a thick fog clouding the meaning. It means being able to sit in one place for an extended period of time, without some invisible force willing me back to my feet. It means making decisions that are preceded with logic and reason. Today, bipolar disorder looks like accepting a diagnosis that I’ve fought so long to avoid. Although that may sound so depressing and negative, its the biggest step in a positive direction I’ve taken in a long time. Today, as I was participating in mandatory group therapy, I opened up for the first time. I talked about how I’ve only just now discovered my own biases about mental illness and how those biases kept me from getting help sooner. One man, that struggles with alcoholism and bipolar disorder responded to me with something I will probably never forget. “Don’t worry about the label. The biggest struggle anyone with bipolar disorder will ever face is accepting the diagnosis. After you accept it, you can spend your time fighting your way back to healthy, instead of fighting to be who you aren’t.” His statement really hit me. I’ve invested so much time and energy trying to prove to others and to myself that I am ok. I missed the opportunity to spend that time accepting that I’m not okay.
Still confused, but hopeful. ❤