That Little Spark of Madness
More and more light is being shed on mental illness recently, especially with movies like Silver Linings Playbook and the death of Robin Williams. There's a quote of his that I love, "You're only given a little spark of madness--you mustn't lose it."
I love that quote because it's true for us all, whether you've been diagnosed or not. Madness is both a blessing and a curse. It makes us do things we normally wouldn't, whether it's something positive, like creating an inspired work of art or something dangerous, like playing chicken with a car in the middle of the highway. I've done both during bouts of mania.
I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder about five years ago. I'd experienced bouts of severe depression off and on throughout my mid to late teens, where I slept for twelve hours a day and cried all the time for no apparent reason and when I was nineteen the proverbial levee broke and I experienced my first full-on manic episode. What else does a manic person do? Well, I ran around my neighborhood wearing nothing but a towel, singing at the top of my lungs and climbed a tree and jumped into the neighborhood pond. I also wrote barely intelligible philosophical ramblings that I thought would change the world. My delusions of grandeur led me to believe that I was sent to Earth to bring about world peace. Boy, did I try. I almost got arrested just for standing outside a convenience store singing. All I wanted was for people to join in. Maybe then we could all just get along. Unfortunately, no one else saw it that way. Nobody wants to follow the nut at the gas station.
After three hospitalizations over a two year period of noncompliance with various medications and a two month stay at a holistic wellness center called Brookhaven Retreat in 2011, I'm proud to say that I've been stable on meds that work for the past three and a half years. I had problems with other medications because they made me feel less sharp, emotionless, zombie-like. With my current ones, I feel like I still have a personality but I also have a filter for the things I say as well as better judgement and insight when it comes to decision making. I'm less impulsive, which bummed me out at first because I thought that meant less fun. I've come to realize that more fun can be had in the long run when you actually think ahead and plan though. My writing has also improved from those rambling thought tangents to pieces that actually make sense to other people. I've also held two jobs for a year and a half now. The longest I ever held a job before I got on these meds was around three months. I'm also doing well in school. I'm almost finished with my Associate's degree with plans of transferring to a university within the next year. The icing on the cake is that I'm capable of maintaining a serious relationship that, while still imperfect, hasn't involved multiple heart wrenching, messy break-ups. Go figure.
Being medicated is not the end of the world. In fact, it has opened doors for me that would otherwise have been shut in my face. And for that, I am thankful. Not everyone who deals with this diagnosis is as lucky to find medications that work for them and keep working. Needless to say, the struggle is real, y'all.
It's a struggle, but I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything. I have lived fully, followed my heart and my whims, loved deeply and passionately and met some amazing people who I otherwise might have never given a second glance, all because of that little spark of madness that told me, "Go for it. Why the fuck not?" Now I can think of a few reasons why not, but at the time, they didn't occur to me and for good reason. I needed to go through all that to become the person I am today. I've come a long way, but I've still got miles to go. The upside is that I'm not afraid anymore. I have faith that I'm on the right path. The worst that can happen is that I take another detour, and really, it won't be that bad. I have wonderful friends and family to support me no matter what happens. If you're reading this, thank you. I love you.
I love that quote because it's true for us all, whether you've been diagnosed or not. Madness is both a blessing and a curse. It makes us do things we normally wouldn't, whether it's something positive, like creating an inspired work of art or something dangerous, like playing chicken with a car in the middle of the highway. I've done both during bouts of mania.
I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder about five years ago. I'd experienced bouts of severe depression off and on throughout my mid to late teens, where I slept for twelve hours a day and cried all the time for no apparent reason and when I was nineteen the proverbial levee broke and I experienced my first full-on manic episode. What else does a manic person do? Well, I ran around my neighborhood wearing nothing but a towel, singing at the top of my lungs and climbed a tree and jumped into the neighborhood pond. I also wrote barely intelligible philosophical ramblings that I thought would change the world. My delusions of grandeur led me to believe that I was sent to Earth to bring about world peace. Boy, did I try. I almost got arrested just for standing outside a convenience store singing. All I wanted was for people to join in. Maybe then we could all just get along. Unfortunately, no one else saw it that way. Nobody wants to follow the nut at the gas station.
After three hospitalizations over a two year period of noncompliance with various medications and a two month stay at a holistic wellness center called Brookhaven Retreat in 2011, I'm proud to say that I've been stable on meds that work for the past three and a half years. I had problems with other medications because they made me feel less sharp, emotionless, zombie-like. With my current ones, I feel like I still have a personality but I also have a filter for the things I say as well as better judgement and insight when it comes to decision making. I'm less impulsive, which bummed me out at first because I thought that meant less fun. I've come to realize that more fun can be had in the long run when you actually think ahead and plan though. My writing has also improved from those rambling thought tangents to pieces that actually make sense to other people. I've also held two jobs for a year and a half now. The longest I ever held a job before I got on these meds was around three months. I'm also doing well in school. I'm almost finished with my Associate's degree with plans of transferring to a university within the next year. The icing on the cake is that I'm capable of maintaining a serious relationship that, while still imperfect, hasn't involved multiple heart wrenching, messy break-ups. Go figure.
Being medicated is not the end of the world. In fact, it has opened doors for me that would otherwise have been shut in my face. And for that, I am thankful. Not everyone who deals with this diagnosis is as lucky to find medications that work for them and keep working. Needless to say, the struggle is real, y'all.
It's a struggle, but I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything. I have lived fully, followed my heart and my whims, loved deeply and passionately and met some amazing people who I otherwise might have never given a second glance, all because of that little spark of madness that told me, "Go for it. Why the fuck not?" Now I can think of a few reasons why not, but at the time, they didn't occur to me and for good reason. I needed to go through all that to become the person I am today. I've come a long way, but I've still got miles to go. The upside is that I'm not afraid anymore. I have faith that I'm on the right path. The worst that can happen is that I take another detour, and really, it won't be that bad. I have wonderful friends and family to support me no matter what happens. If you're reading this, thank you. I love you.