This is the first of what will hopefully be a lovely collection of personal insights from my life, with my ever present partner-in-crime, bipolar disorder. Even as I begin the first paragraph there are a million thoughts running through my mind of things I want to share, ask, vent, etc. Hopefuly posting to this blog ends up being one of my rare consistant habbits. I am also hopeful that other people with bipolar find me, add imput, get advice...or just let me know they exist. Makes the hard times easier, knowing you're not alone.
The topic running through my mind lately...the old me. Whoever said 'Ignorance is bliss' must of had some mental disorder pasted to their head. Have you ever looked at an old picture of yourself, a happy one, and wondered where that genuine and well-known smile ran off too? Ever ached to have that same kind of happiness again? Sometimes I feel it creeping back in, a small sliver of light breaking through the black. Once in a while I even get a huge flash of lighting that lasts a few, magnificent moments. Oh wait they have a name for that...mania, right?
That reminds me of another question asked by millions...where am I in the mania? The depression? The middle moments? Which parts do I proudly get to classify as %100 ME, without any tints of my disorder seeping through? Would I have reached some of my successes, that came in the 'lightning flash' moments, had I been born with all chemicals in balance?
Well I suppose wondering won't do me any good, seeing as there isn't a miracle one-size-fits-all drug to completely smooth out the wrinkles in my brain. So, I keep on keeping on and try to add all the snaz to life I can to keep me sane. I seem to be a hard one to entertain, though I partially blame that on my second partner-in-crime, ADD. I know, aren't I just a lovely wreck? Who would want to go through their whole life completly normal anyway? Booooooring.
Well, please, if you happen to stumble upon my ponderings, drop me a line and say hello. It will encourage me to keep writing as well as keep reading the accounts of others.
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It's kind of difficult. I don't even know myself at all. I don't think i can remember a time when i was happy just because i was, not because of the mania. Probably when i was younger but i cant really remember much about it. My mind blocks off alot of my past? It's still hard knowing that i have Bipolar disorder. It's also hard to accept it. Wellbutrin seems to work for me.
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