Which is what?!

I guess if we could answer that question to a variety of symptoms we could be fucking millionaires. But in this instance I’m referring to me and my bipolar. The million dollar question is how much of me is the bipolar?! And how much of the bipolar isn’t me?! What is illness?! What is my personality?! What are my quirks?! What is the causation when people look at you funny and finally ask, “Are you okay?!”

Now. Seriously people. Nobody is ever going to fucking tell you (usually) they’re not ok. Because as a mentally ill person we know we end up locked up in a mental ward on a pysch hold losing a few days.

I know I’ve not been okay. I had a full blown manic episode that I’m still trying to recover and compensate for. I can’t quite seem to come over the hill to recovery from it. Im not well.

I start getting well. Then I self sabotage. or just get sick and fuck myself over. That’s what mentally ill people do.

But for me…as a sick person I will own my shit. I make no excuses for my bad behavior. I am apologetic for it but it it does not excuse it not make up for years of excruciating torture to my family and friends who worry and sit by and suffer my illness silently. Especially as I retreat into myself only showing glimpses on Facebook of manic painting.

I have especially hurt my youngest son. He only just came back to me but I ran him off again with my illness. Him not knowing which was eccentric mom or bipolar bitch. He shut down and cut me off and I am hurt but understand. I hurt him. And there is no way of making up trauma that is unintentionally inflicted by a parent. I have to own that pain. And I owe him. If he never talks to me again k will have to suffer that pain and know that I did that.

But was eccentric me or bipolar me?! Who really knows because we are one.

The truth of the bipolar illness is that even though this illness distinguishes itself by having two faces, we as bipolars really have molded ourselves into unique people who reflect all aspects of our illness. We play on the highs and lows of our sickness. When we’re high, we use that creativity to create beauty and soar. When we are low, we discover the depth of the human soul. How human beings can feel so deeply and we become so intense with feeling and overwhelmed we understand the meaning of the world.

For me, bipolar is a fucked illness but I don’t know who I’d be without it. Would I be me without it?! I don’t think it defines me. But it definitely a part of me and my identity.