Agents of Change

Recently I was talking to one of my close friends about living out lifelong diagnoses. For those of you who haven't been one of the lucky few to experience this, it's a very emotional experience being diagnosed, particularly when you are diagnosed earlier on in life.There is a certain sense of foreboding that comes along with it for some people. Sometimes you feel relieved at first, amazed that there's an actual reason behind the way you tick, but that usually doesn't last very long. For me, I was excited to find out that there was a reason behind the way I was, that I wasn't "crazy", just battling some mental illness without any help. In my case the diagnosis was Bipolar 2 Disorder. There is no cure, only medications that can help manage symptoms and regulate your moods. My mom calls it "Going from the adult rollercoaster to the kiddie rollercoaster". There's also a plethora of different kinds of therapy you can experiment with that arm you with coping mechanisms and help give you insight into what part of your "cycle" you're in currently. But as I quickly figured out, this was no easy task, living out my diagnosis. Finding the right meds, the right dosages of those meds, finding a therapy style you like and a therapist who suits you and your needs, it's all very overwhelming and difficult even. I felt lost, drifting through from one day to the next, losing hope that it would ever get any better. The permaninity (if you'll allow me to blatantly make up my own word here,) had set in. There was no escaping. This would not pass.

As it turns out, I was not alone in feeling this way. My aforementioned friend and I were talking and she brought up that she was feeling similarly these days. I was shocked at first, having long ago assumed I was the only one who could be going though this, but then I thought about it. About the "permaninity" of our situation. And it occurred to me that as people go, bipolar people aren't necessarily dealt a bad card. What I mean by this is that I had spent so much time obsessing over the fact that my situation was indeed permanent, but what if I looked at it in a different light? What if instead of thinking about all of the bad things I have to endure as part of my diagnosis, what if I chose to focus on all the good it did?

For starters, bipolar people are exceptionally empathetic humans; a fact I think makes us the best friends you could ask for. We are truly able to listen and feel what you are feeling. When you hurt, we hurt, when you're happy, we're overjoyed! We are your number one cheerleader in all things big and small. We are also fiercely protective and loyal, and stand by our friends 100 percent. In a way, we love more than other people. This is largely because we value feelings above little else and do our best to never hurt yours. I'm not saying we're perfect, because who really is? But we take pride in our friendships and don't forsake the people who we love.

Another characteristic I'd use to describe bipolar people is "exceptionally strong hearted". This means a couple of things, firstly that we are people who live our lives by what our heart dictates is "right". Although we may make some impromptu decisions when we're manic, we have a VERY strong moral compass and do our best to abide by that. Secondly, we are people who are mighty and strong. It takes a tough person to battle their own emotions and thoughts every day and still come out on top! You'd be hard pressed to find another kind of person who could fight the same exact fight and have the same success rate. It's hard work!

Moreover, I think bipolar people are given a true gift. Whether you believe that gift is bestowed on us by God, or some other deity or force be that supernatural or other, I really do believe that we are special, lucky even. You see, part of being bipolar dictates for many (although not all) that we potentially can spend half our days manic, and half our days depressed. There are a couple of upsides to this split state that I'd like to highlight here.

The first being that because of the nature of our disorder, we know that the things we're feeling, whether that be intense hurt, manic joy, or anxiety, these things won't last. There absolutely is a cyclical component of our world. I've personally found it to be very comforting, knowing that in my intense cycles of depression, I know that even though I'm not able to feel it right now, there IS a light at the end of the tunnel and soon enough I'll be out of the woods, and onto the manic part of my cycle. And this is something I have never taken for granted. I cannot imagine how it must be to live your life in a state of depression without an escape, without knowing that the tides will soon turn and you'll be liberated from your internal suffering. To live like that, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year... It must require a special kind of strength, known only to those suffering from chronic depression.

The second and final point I'd like to make is that because of our split world, bipolar people are able to sympathize and relate to those who battle chronic depression. It's easy to say "I know how you're feeling" and try to sympathize, but many bipolar people have actually been there. They have faced some of the same demons that depressed people have to battle and know exactly how exhausting it is to fight day after day. But even more important than that, we can be true allies to them because we understand firsthand what it's like to be "trapped in the pit" so to speak. Because we get cyclical relief from our depressive states I believe we can help serve our depressed friends when we're feeling better, advocate for them when they are unable, look after them when they aren't well, and so much more! And in turn, when we sink back down once again into the depressive part of our cycles, we can be comforted in knowing that we are not alone as we once thought.

-07/18/2018