It's the middle of the afternoon now, and it's cloudy, so here we go again...
Since I started this blog last night the whole bipolar thing has been really on my mind (I generally try to suppress it as much as possible).
I got to thinking about how I mentioned that there weren't "bipolar pride parades" in the first post. I wondered if anyone had ever tossed around this idea, and I googled "bipolar pride", just for shits and giggles.
I came across a transcript on CNN.com of Connie Chung interviewing Carrie Fisher- the actress who played Princess Laia (sp?) in the Star Wars Movies and has bipolar disorder. I found myself laughing at the attitude that she has about her situation. As Connie interviews her, she addresses the problem while trying to have a sense of humor about it, and Connie seems like a deadpan dimwit. If I could smack Connie through the screen, I think I would have. Anyway, Carrie was funny, so here's a little tidbit of the interview. Her approach may offend some people, but to me, humor is always the best way to make the best of any situation.
*i have added my own commentary in bold- as if i am sitting in on the interview. **
CHUNG: And Carrie Fisher's latest appearance is right here, right now. Thanks for being here with us.
FISHER: Thank you for having me.
CHUNG: Over the years, you have been so straightforward, nothing but the truth, honesty, your life is all out there for us to know about.
FISHER: Well, there were some lying years.
CHUNG: Oh, yes? OK.
FISHER: Yes. But I've recovered now.
CHUNG: All right. So you have said, and I think this is, obviously, a fascinating part for you to talk about, because most people keep it to themselves. You have said you are mentally ill.
FISHER: I have?
CHUNG: Yes.
FISHER: That must be so difficult for me sometimes. I know... (snickers from me)
CHUNG: Is it curable?
FISHER: ... my -- no, it's not curable. They're coming up with an antibiotic for it soon, but -- no, my mother says...
CHUNG: That is a joke. (me: no shit.)
FISHER: Yes, it is a joke. My -- but it's manageable with medication, and so my mother says, Dear, you're not mentally ill, you're manic depressive. So, mentally ill...
CHUNG: Debbie, Debbie, Debbie. (i now smack Connie. she is unconscious for a few seconds, then climbs back up onto her chair.)
FISHER: It does sound -- well, it does sound so dramatic, but it can be that way, so...
CONNIE: Is -- Debbie Reynolds, of course. Is manic depressive bipolar?
FISHER: It is.
CHUNG: What is this thing -- it's hypomania? Hypomania? (me: gee Connie, do you always go into an interview knowing so little about what you plan to address?)
FISHER: Well, that is a lesser version of it.
CHUNG: And that is what you have?
FISHER: No, no. No, no. I have the -- I have the full shot, I'm proud to say. You know, when I get something, I want to get the whole thing, and I'm volleying for a bipolar pride day, and bipolar bars, which obviously would be open 24 hours. (i laugh)
CHUNG: Of course. Have you ever been to a bipolar restroom?
FISHER: You liar!
CHUNG: No? OK. I haven't.
FISHER: No, but I -- the parades. Don't you think they would be good...
CHUNG: Yes, yes.
FISHER: ...with sort of the depressive floats, with people on mattresses... (i laugh again)
CHUNG: Yes. You are...
FISHER: ... staring off into nothing, frantic, manic.
CHUNG: You are being sick. (i kick connie in the nose. she resumes the interview, her voice now much more nasal.)
FISHER: Well, we just established that I was sick.
CHUNG: Oh, did I say that? OK. We'll continue along these lines.
FISHER: Well, I joke about it.
CHUNG: Yes, I know you do.
FISHER: It is a -- if I didn't, then it would simply be something that was true.
CHUNG: But it is. (i raise my hand as a warning to connie)
FISHER: It is. Absolutely.
CHUNG: OK. What I want to know, though, is you take medication?
FISHER: Yes, I do.
CHUNG: I had read six different types?
FISHER: Oh, God, I hope not. But, yes, it's probably that much.
CHUNG: All right. So, are you ever tempted to not take the medication?
FISHER: Oh, absolutely. Well, yes, because -- and it's also -- any, I think, illness of the mind, your mind will always tell you, you don't have it. So I will still say this is not possible.
CHUNG: Right.
FISHER: I'm, you know, as sane as -- well, not you, but, you know, some of your friends. So I still will think I don't have it. But also, because the manic side of it is so great, it's fantastic. So I would want that back again. It just -- there is a negative fallout. Also, I -- you know -- so, yes, I would want it back but I would not want to put my daughter through that because it's very chaotic.
*I excuse myself, apologizing to connie and giving her a list of suggested reading, so that she doesn't sound like such an idiot in the future. carrie gets a high five.*
...and it goes on... but I thought that was a good part. Sorry if my presence was annoying- I couldn't help myself. And no, I'm not violent, I like to joke about smacking, punching, and kicking people. It comes from having an older brother, 19 years of playing soccer, being friends with lots of frat guys in college, and an obsession with stupid comedy. It has absolutely nothing to do with being bipolar.
It was interesting to read that interview, and further proof that most people not personally exposed to B.D. are ignorant about it. If Connie Chung doesn't know what she's talking about, how can we expect Joe Schmo from the street to be understanding? Of course, this isn't the first time that I've found Connie Chung annoying. But I digress.
Well, I have a coed indoor soccer game in a few hours, and I haven't eaten since noon, so I should probably get on that so I don't feel sick when I start running around. I'm dropping off an application to an art store on the way to the game- not ideal, but at least I'd have a job. Since I know almost everything there is to know about art supplies and have previously worked in an art store, maybe I'll get lucky and get a department head position or something. Who knows. I'll keep ya posted.
I'm throwing a party this weekend, which I'm extremely excited about. According to the invite I sent out, there will be somewhere between 30 and...70 people there. Ha ha how the hell can I plan for food and drinks if I have 40 people who are only "maybe" showing up? I'm gonna let them know that if they don't change to a definite, it'll have to be BYOB and BYOF(food). My off again-yet-still extremely present- ex boyfriend will be coming, along with a few guys i'm interested in. Translation? I'm an idiot asking for drama. Lets hope thats not the case.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Ok, so here goes my first actual post. It is now 2:45 in the morning, and I am just now getting to this part. This is because I spent forever working on the design and whatnot- that's the artist in me. There's no way I could put up a white page. ha ha.
Anyway, the whole reason I decided to do this is that several hours ago I felt compelled to Google movies with bipolar characters. I don't know why I bother, I only get frustrated because every bipolar person I've ever seen in a movie or TV show is portrayed negatively- violent, irrational, unstable; someone to be feared. I am bipolar, as is my brother- he actually has bipolar 1 and has had much more severe episodes than I have- and neither of us are scary, mean, or violent people. In fact, we're both big jokesters who love sports, comedy, and the company of good friends. We're not nutjobs, we're just ordinary people who happen to be faced with challenging circumstances that most people don't understand. The media sure doesn't help.
Anyway, while searching for movies I somehow stumbled across a blog written anonymously by a woman with bipolar disorder. Not only did I find myself identifying with much of what she said; following her posts I read comments by numerous other bloggers, giving her support, praise, and encouraging feedback. Holy crap, I thought, you mean there is actually some way for me to talk about this without being judged or ridiculed? I had to get in on the action. So, three hours of photoshop, illustrator, and a new gmail account later, here I am.
It sucks that I have to be so anonymous about this whole thing. The stigma surrounding mental illness is so... disheartening. Telling people about my disorder feels like I imagine people feel about coming out about homosexuality. The sad part is that homosexuals can increasingly embrace their identity publicly, and at lessening degree of damage to their reputations- while the mentally ill largely suffer in silence and shame. You don't see a whole lot of flamboyant "BIPOLAR PRIDE" parades taking place, now do you?
My diagnosis at 21 dealt a devastating blow to my self esteem. My whole life I have been a high achiever and perfectionist. Good grades, athletic excellence, artistic achievements, popularity, etc. I always sought to be better and go farther, always sought perfection. It may sound stupid, but being bipolar, to me, meant that I was flawed. I would never and could never be perfect. This wasn't something I could train or study my way out of. To be told that I would have to take medication for the rest of my life was the hardest. To me, I was being told that the way I was naturally- the way God made me- was not socially acceptable; that I did not possess the strength and ability to be a normal, healthy person. If I'm always medicated, how can I possibly cultivate a sense of self esteem and self worth, or even personality? How do I know if what I'm feeling at any given moment is how I truly feel, or a result of meds? How can you tell me that I'm an amazing person, when I have this one huge, blaring defect.
This isn't a physical malady- this is mental- how you think and feel and react to your surrounding is "YOU". It's your entire reality. I may not have had a major manic or depressive episode in over a year- but I can't help thinking that it's because I'm always "under the influence". I'm constantly drugged. That's a hard thing to swallow. Other people can be so insensitive about this, saying "if it makes you better, why would you not want to take it?" They don't even try to imagine what being forced into medication feels like. It's telling you that you can't do it alone, no matter how hard you want to.
With this always in the back of my mind, it has become harder to believe in myself to accomplish things- things totally unrelated to bipolar, like career goals and financial success. It's as if the air has been let out of my balloon. I'm so afraid to do anything now- it's crippling. I am an artist, and although I know I am talented, I'm fearful of becoming well known- what if I become manic, and publicly embarrass myself and expose my secret? The idea of everyone knowing- even people who don't know me personally- is absolutely terrifying. The fact that it could happen at any time without warning scares the ever-living shit out of me. I'm not worried about hurting myself or others, but I'm damn sure worried about hurting my reputation and that of my family.
During my manic episode I made a very public fool of myself at work- I said some things that didn't make much sense, and got worked up and yelled at my boss, who had been an unfair asshole to me for no reason for a long time. Afterwards, though I had considered myself fired- my Dad called the manager and explained about my bipolar disorder, and I was back at work the next week. I reluctantly returned, but it was evident from the moment I walked in the door that everyone knew; they were all looking at me differently, acting funny around me and not talking to me much. These were coworkers that I had been very cool with, laughing and joking for 30 hours a week for a year, and suddenly they were all treating me like a crazy person. I had to leave- I went and sat in my car and just cried and cried. It makes me cry to think about it now. I didn't want to be bipolar. It wasn't fair- I was a good person, I worked hard and loved my family and friends, why was this happening to me? After that day, I was very depressed for months. I withdrew from my classes that semester and went to stay with my parents- I just wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there for a long time. I didn't talk to my school friends much- they didn't know what was happening- the semester was in full swing and they had their own lives to think about.
I pulled myself together and returned to school in the spring, acting like nothing had happened. I blamed my withdrawal on "family problems" and didn't speak of it beyond that. To this day only a handful of my friends know, and my immediate family. I'm terrified every day of a relapse. I keep smiling and joking and pushing on, but I don't feel secure.
Well geez it's late now. My sleep habits are horrible lately since I am jobless, I need to change that. I'm sorry this post was so long; bless you if you sat through the whole thing. I figured I should lay out some backstory right off the bat so we can move forward from there.
I'd love some feedback, so feel free to leave a comment. It's off to bed for me....
Anyway, the whole reason I decided to do this is that several hours ago I felt compelled to Google movies with bipolar characters. I don't know why I bother, I only get frustrated because every bipolar person I've ever seen in a movie or TV show is portrayed negatively- violent, irrational, unstable; someone to be feared. I am bipolar, as is my brother- he actually has bipolar 1 and has had much more severe episodes than I have- and neither of us are scary, mean, or violent people. In fact, we're both big jokesters who love sports, comedy, and the company of good friends. We're not nutjobs, we're just ordinary people who happen to be faced with challenging circumstances that most people don't understand. The media sure doesn't help.
Anyway, while searching for movies I somehow stumbled across a blog written anonymously by a woman with bipolar disorder. Not only did I find myself identifying with much of what she said; following her posts I read comments by numerous other bloggers, giving her support, praise, and encouraging feedback. Holy crap, I thought, you mean there is actually some way for me to talk about this without being judged or ridiculed? I had to get in on the action. So, three hours of photoshop, illustrator, and a new gmail account later, here I am.
It sucks that I have to be so anonymous about this whole thing. The stigma surrounding mental illness is so... disheartening. Telling people about my disorder feels like I imagine people feel about coming out about homosexuality. The sad part is that homosexuals can increasingly embrace their identity publicly, and at lessening degree of damage to their reputations- while the mentally ill largely suffer in silence and shame. You don't see a whole lot of flamboyant "BIPOLAR PRIDE" parades taking place, now do you?
My diagnosis at 21 dealt a devastating blow to my self esteem. My whole life I have been a high achiever and perfectionist. Good grades, athletic excellence, artistic achievements, popularity, etc. I always sought to be better and go farther, always sought perfection. It may sound stupid, but being bipolar, to me, meant that I was flawed. I would never and could never be perfect. This wasn't something I could train or study my way out of. To be told that I would have to take medication for the rest of my life was the hardest. To me, I was being told that the way I was naturally- the way God made me- was not socially acceptable; that I did not possess the strength and ability to be a normal, healthy person. If I'm always medicated, how can I possibly cultivate a sense of self esteem and self worth, or even personality? How do I know if what I'm feeling at any given moment is how I truly feel, or a result of meds? How can you tell me that I'm an amazing person, when I have this one huge, blaring defect.
This isn't a physical malady- this is mental- how you think and feel and react to your surrounding is "YOU". It's your entire reality. I may not have had a major manic or depressive episode in over a year- but I can't help thinking that it's because I'm always "under the influence". I'm constantly drugged. That's a hard thing to swallow. Other people can be so insensitive about this, saying "if it makes you better, why would you not want to take it?" They don't even try to imagine what being forced into medication feels like. It's telling you that you can't do it alone, no matter how hard you want to.
With this always in the back of my mind, it has become harder to believe in myself to accomplish things- things totally unrelated to bipolar, like career goals and financial success. It's as if the air has been let out of my balloon. I'm so afraid to do anything now- it's crippling. I am an artist, and although I know I am talented, I'm fearful of becoming well known- what if I become manic, and publicly embarrass myself and expose my secret? The idea of everyone knowing- even people who don't know me personally- is absolutely terrifying. The fact that it could happen at any time without warning scares the ever-living shit out of me. I'm not worried about hurting myself or others, but I'm damn sure worried about hurting my reputation and that of my family.
During my manic episode I made a very public fool of myself at work- I said some things that didn't make much sense, and got worked up and yelled at my boss, who had been an unfair asshole to me for no reason for a long time. Afterwards, though I had considered myself fired- my Dad called the manager and explained about my bipolar disorder, and I was back at work the next week. I reluctantly returned, but it was evident from the moment I walked in the door that everyone knew; they were all looking at me differently, acting funny around me and not talking to me much. These were coworkers that I had been very cool with, laughing and joking for 30 hours a week for a year, and suddenly they were all treating me like a crazy person. I had to leave- I went and sat in my car and just cried and cried. It makes me cry to think about it now. I didn't want to be bipolar. It wasn't fair- I was a good person, I worked hard and loved my family and friends, why was this happening to me? After that day, I was very depressed for months. I withdrew from my classes that semester and went to stay with my parents- I just wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there for a long time. I didn't talk to my school friends much- they didn't know what was happening- the semester was in full swing and they had their own lives to think about.
I pulled myself together and returned to school in the spring, acting like nothing had happened. I blamed my withdrawal on "family problems" and didn't speak of it beyond that. To this day only a handful of my friends know, and my immediate family. I'm terrified every day of a relapse. I keep smiling and joking and pushing on, but I don't feel secure.
Well geez it's late now. My sleep habits are horrible lately since I am jobless, I need to change that. I'm sorry this post was so long; bless you if you sat through the whole thing. I figured I should lay out some backstory right off the bat so we can move forward from there.
I'd love some feedback, so feel free to leave a comment. It's off to bed for me....
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