Second Thoughts

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in a room with a dozen or so people. I was at a table with three women. It was the last day of a 4 day long work-related training and we were on lunch break. We were all feeling comfortable with each other and at some point, the conversation turned to the son of one of the women. She shared some of the struggles he was having and explained that a lot of it stemmed from his depression. As I listened I found myself wanting to share that I have bipolar, but I was holding back; I was worried about what they might think.

Before long I realized I was playing into the stigma of mental illness. So, I shared that I have bipolar disorder. At first there was a bit of a silence as they processed what I just shared. I felt like I was on a mini-trial for a few seconds. These people had known me for about 4 days, heard my professional background, seen me make presentations, interacted with me, and knew what I was capable of. Accepting that I have bipolar flew in the face of the stigma associated with it. By all stereotyped accounts, I should have been incapable of all the things I had been doing that week.

After a moment or two there were a few questions to confirm what I just told them, and then the conversation went on. The woman who was speaking about her son opened up and talked more. In fact, the whole table had a more open and sharing attitude. It was great. I shared a little about my mental illness and, as a result, there was a better dialogue about depression. The conversation even turned to other mental health issues.

I know I didn’t start a world changing movement that is going to eradicate the stigma and prejudices associated with mental health, but I know I impacted those three women in a positive way.

My List about Me

In the past I have written lists like “The Ten Things I Wish Everyone Knew About Bipolar.” The problem is, there is a HUGE spectrum of Bipolar and it does not all apply to me. So, I have a new list.

Things I wish everyone knew about MY bipolar.

First and most important, no matter how much reading you do about Bipolar (including this blog) you will never get to know me. If you want to know what I am like you have to spend time with me. Bipolar is something I have, not something I am. Just like someone with diabetes. You can read a lot about eating habits, medications, and statistics, but you will never know that person until you spend time with them.

Second, bipolar is not a scary, mysterious thing. What if I told you I had depression? Which, incidentally, is called unipolar depression. Would that be a scary thing for you? No. Why? Because depression is portrayed as sad and lonely while bipolar is portrayed as out of control. Bipolar does not mean difficult, scary, obstinate, argumentative, etc. This leads to my third point.

Third, there is a huge spectrum of bipolar. It ranges from people who can’t get out of bed or can’t hold a job, to those who think they can fly and send money with no consequences.  These things don’t describe me. They are extreme. Despite battling this illness for over 25 years without knowing what it was, I earned a master degree in mechanical engineering, a master degree in business administration, I hold down a good paying job in a stressful environment and I have never had a problem living within my means.

Fourth, while living with undiagnosed bipolar for 25 years I was a good person. I’m an even better person now. Why? Because I was diagnoses 4 years ago I have medications, I have a doctor, I have a plan, and, most importantly, I have knowledge.

Fifth, bipolar is just a limit I work with. Guess what, I am also only 5’ 7” and I have to remember I can’t reach the top shelf in the kitchen either. Limits are only scary if you don’t know what they are. The important thing is, I recognize my limits and I act accordingly.

Look, if I could sum things up it would be this. Bipolar is not scary. It’s just something I have learned to live with. I didn’t say put up with. I said live with. This is an important distinction. I don’t drudge through life in depression, elation, agony or pain. I live a pretty normal life just like all of you.  And I am very blessed.