Six Lies… I use to Believe.
1. I hated myself most the time.
After episodes of mania or depress, I hated myself. My bipolar manifests mainly into mania. Many outsiders may mistakenly believe mania is fun. My manic bouts turned into psychosis, which is states of delusions, hallucinations, and incoherent speech. After a spell of depression, I loathed myself which prolonged the depression. I had little regard for myself, but I would never vocalize these feelings. I blamed myself for these episodes happening. During the episodes, I had little understanding of reality. Through hospitalization or medications, the manic misadventure or depressive ordeal would subside, and things would crash in on me.
2. I pushed others away.
While struggling in my episodes of mania or depression, I could be downright mean to others without forethought. I didn’t intend to be terrible to others but controlling emotions in bouts of mania or depression is impossible. My fervid actions pushed people away and it was hard to pull some back.
3. Thing always seem formidable.
During my manic phases, emotions, thoughts, and actions spiraled out of control. The more manic I got the more overwhelming daily routine became. I avoided the simplest tasks, and I ran away from any sense of normal life. Psychosis created nightmarish reality where I could not discern the real from delusions. Depressive states created a different overwhelming struggle with daily life. I avoided routine, because of the sheer exhaustion.
4. It is hard to love.
Bipolar is a very emotional illness, because I would feel many different types of emotions at once. Anger, joyfulness, disgust, and happiness would fill my mood and leave little room for love. My focus would get so clouded by the negative of bipolar, it was difficult to love. The negative moods would easily consume me, which was easier but very damaging.
5. Needing help hurt my pride.
Struggling with a long-term illness, like bipolar created a constant need for therapy and medication. My dependency on these things hurt my pride because my desire was to be independent. I foolishly wanted to manage my bipolar all on my own to prove that I was strong, but I was not. I saw my therapist for twenty years, because I needed help. Although I know needing help is ok, it still hurt my pride.
6. I felt unloved.
Living with a mental illness is called “the lonely disease,” because many become estranged from family and friends. I truly believed I was unlovable, a burden on others. Relationships were very one-sided, because of the neediness of struggling with a mental illness. People wanted to avoid me due to my dependence and instability. Maintaining relationships was impossible. Love seemed out of reach.
All these lies were defeated by the saving grace of Jesus Christ, His death on the cross and resurrection three days later. I learned about the supernatural hope in Jesus. His love for repented sinners, His endless forgiveness for repented sinners, and His reconciliation for repented sinners with His Father. Jesus had compassion for the unloved, the outcast, the weak.
In Mark 5:21-34, Jesus stops and shows compassion to the woman with the bleeding disease. His disciples were confused about why He was stopping, since they were on their way to Jairus’ home when He stopped to heal her.
“And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” – Mark 5:34
He called her “daughter,” when no one would associate with her. In many ways, this woman was like many that suffer with mental illness. She was stigmatized by her society. She was thrown away by her neighbors. She was estranged by her own family. Jesus’s supernatural compassion and authority over illness transcended all social constructs. The lies were too great to bear; His supernatural love was too great to resist.