I’ve been told I Romanticize my mental illness and that I absolutely should not do that. Well, I’m doing it anyway. I love being Bipolar and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It took me fifteen years to get here. For fifteen years I was ashamed and embarrassed of something I had absolutely no control over. I hid my diagnosis, my meds, my doctor and therapy appointments. I didn’t talk about the struggle I was going through in my head on a day to day basis. I’m finally at a point where I’m not afraid to say I have Bipolar Disorder.
It’s so much more than that though. I’m not just unafraid, I’m comfortable. I’m proud to be apart of the community of people that also have neurodivergent minds. I enjoy learning about and talking about my mental illness.
Don’t get me wrong; bipolar disorder can be brutal. It can bring unwanted thoughts and feelings of depression and suicide. It can keep me in bed for weeks with no energy. It can cause me to make irrational and impulsive decisions. It has ruined my life on more than one occasion, but it can also be beautiful.
I’m not trying to make light of a very serious illness, I’m trying to accept and love myself completely. I find beauty in my depression because it has taught me how to sympathize and have deep genuine compassion. I find beauty in hypomania because my world becomes tinted with rose colored glasses. I find beauty in manic episodes because I feel more connected to the universe and capable of great things. I find beauty in feeling all the feels and feeling them more intensely than others do. I consider my Bipolar brain a super power. I put famous people with Bipolar on a pedestal and tell everyone look how great how smart how capable how successful and amazing these people are, they are like me.
Bottom line is, it’s my struggle to live with. I have to endure all the good and all the bad of it. It’s mine and it’s messy and it hurts and it’s beautiful and no one gets to tell me it’s not. I want to help end stigma but to portray my experience of being Bipolar all doom and gloom, constant struggle and hardship would be a lie. My life is romantic, in around during and through my mental illness.