Read on :
Bipolar and Me
It sounds really silly to say it, but when Robin Williams passed away last month, it wasn’t necessarily just the shock that someone I’d grown up watching on TV and in the cinema had died, but it was also reading about the manner of his death and how he must have suffered for so long – not necessarily in silence, but feeling as though he might have been fighting his demons alone, all the time still trying to do his best for others who were less fortunate than he was.
I have to say, it really affected me personally, as it brought my own problems into the spotlight. Something about his manner, about the way he suffered really resonated with me and I realised that in part, my own behaviors mirrored his. It took me a few days and a lot of soul searching to come to terms with the fact that there was, and had been, something wrong with me for a long time.
It’s a shame that it did have to take a sad event like this to highlight the issues I had. For a long time, my moods were either manically high, or so low that I could barely crawl out of bed for longer than it took to shower and fix something to eat – I sometimes bothered with neither. In my lucid, hyper states I’d plan to conquer the world and feel as though I could. I was so full of uncontrollable energy I felt like I might explode – hovering between anger, because everyone else was slowing me down, and elation, because I felt invincible and nothing could stop me.In the end, it was my sweet, patient mom who took me to one side and convinced me to see someone. Going to the doctor, actually sitting down and opening up felt like a big deal, but she sat in with me as I poured out what was in my head. In the end, you know what? It wasn’t that bad. Finding out I had bipolar disorder wasn’t a huge shock. Getting the help I need means I can face family, friends and also tell others to get out there and speak up. If you recognise the signs and symptoms then talk to someone. Better late than never.