I have more sensitivity now, and I’m not manic. I’m on my meds, and I’ve been very stable for a while. I’m not thinking fast. I don’t have all that many ideas. I’m not anxious.
My fingers shake also, and obviously that is more crucial for a piano player than a trumpet player. Eating with chop sticks has become more difficult, but not impossible. I can work around the shaking most of the time.
I don’t believed I ever used bipolar as an apology. I have used it as an explanation, but I’m not even sure that’s correct any more. I have gradually been coming to the conclusion that I am who I am whether I’m bipolar or not. Other people may want to excuse my behavior because of my disorder, but I don’t think that would be fair.
People say that when I was manic, I wasn’t responsible for what I did because I wasn’t thinking the way I normally would. I agreed with that then, but I’m not sure I agree with it now. Back then, I wanted to be punished, but now I don’t. Now I want to be happy.
I’m on three different meds. I feel good. I feel like I don’t need the meds, but I am not really thinking about stopping them any more. They are my lifeline, and I don’t want to risk falling back down under the surface of the ocean.
But I am still creative. Or at least some people tell me I am. It’s not really for me to say. Certainly I enjoy playing games—and I mean that term very broadly.
I suppose you could be right when you suggest that I am seeking to validate my own choices by suggesting them to others.
I’m not sure why you think embracing something you can’t control is a good place to give advice from. I have given this advice in a number of places and it is the most popular advice I ahve ever given. It is not about giving up. It is about embracing it—not fighting it—because you give it too much power in fighting it. It was through embracing my disorder that I disarmed it and was able to learn how to let it be without making me crazy. And of course, in embracing it, I get to have its gifts.
Nothing else I could do meant that all my efforts to fight it had backfired. They had actually made things worse. And indeed, embracing it is part of a long tradition of coping techniques that go back thousands of years. Mindfulness is a well-established coping technique. If you still don’t think that’s a good place to come from, I’d be very curious as to why.
It seems like you think your experience with your friend has given you a very strong perspective on the disorder. Have you had experience with others besides her? Have you attended groups? Are you a therapist? Have you studied the disorder? Do you have some intuitive ability that you believe allows you to be inside the mind of someone with the disorder? Do you have it yourself?
Your opinion is as valid as anyone else’s, but I think you need more than one experience and more than an authoritative way of saying things in order to be able to have people place a lot of credibility in what you say. Would you disagree that having more experience or education is a more credible place to come from? Perhaps you have that experience. I’d like to know.
I find this happens fairly often. People who are worried about you are constantly checking to see if you have taken your meds. They worry if you are becoming manic. They are often on edge around someone who is sick. When the patient says they aren’t manic, they are not believed.
In my experience, we know what is going on with us. What we hate is the condescending nature of such questions. We know. Once we have learned how, we can ask for help when we need it. I believe everyone knows. The problem is we can’t talk about it because other people are not sympathetic, or they jump to the wrong conclusions and they want to do things we know won’t work. False assurances don’t work, for the most part. Refusal to acknowledge there is a problem doesn’t work. Telling us to snap out of it doesn’t work. There are so many things that normal people do that are ineffective. It’s why we are helped so much more by people who share our disorder than we are by people who are laypersons.