Four Hidden Aspects of Bipolar
1. The side effects of my medication really bother me.
Medications are essential for stability, but their side effects can be very intolerable. I have developed a twitch, gained weight, and felt very sedated. The ordeal of finding the right medication can be an incredibly difficult trial. Even after finding the right medication, it may not work long term. The cycle could start again. Although medication is important to long term stability, it still is difficult not knowing how long it will be effective.
2. My mood swings are painful.
My mood swings are a huge symptom of bipolar. Not only does my mood change, but my appearance, speech, appetite, and priorities do as well. Many can’t see how damaging this can be. Decompressing from a manic or depressive episode is like swimming into the abyss, like endless drowning. The exhaustion of mood swings is felt deep in my bones. I suppress these feelings to prevent others from worrying, and the pain rots within me.
3. Mania is not fun.
Many mistakenly believe mania is fun because of the euphoric temper. I seem more energetic, exuberant, and enthusiastic. At first this is true, but they turn into a nightmarish reality filled with psychosis. I am powerless to control my actions and speech. Everything comes crashing in, and my reckless behavior turns dangerous. Most people with bipolar kill themselves in a state of mania rather than depressive states.
4. I worry about hurting others.
Many aspects of my bipolar create a lot of irritability. I become more anxious about what I say or do during an episode. I don’t want to treat others poorly, but the uncontrollable nature of the bipolar makes it impossible. Many people want to avoid me. They want to run, and I don’t blame them. I don’t want to be around myself at times.
“Was it real? Well, of course not, not in any meaningful sense of the word “real.” But did it stay with me? Absolutely. Long after my psychosis cleared, and the medications took hold, it became part of what one remembers forever, surrounded by an almost Proustian melancholy.”