Bipolar: Bipolar & Me

I sometimes talk about being bipolar. I often wonder if other  people really know what it’s like, really have an idea of what it’s like to be inside my head. I've decided to make a post, to illustrate, to some degree what that’s like. Anyone who knows me, I mean Really knows me, knows that I suffer from low self-esteem, even at 40. I have issues with self worth, and I don’t see myself as creative,  at all, except once in awhile, in the kitchen. I have no hobbies, I've tried and failed at more hobbies in 3 years than most people will contemplate ever. This perceived failure is only exacerbated, for me, by having a wonder partner, who happens to be, to me, very creative, and very talented. I get honestly jealous to the point that I put on my rage-face. Very recently, I visited my favorite internet forum hangout. I asked for help in finding a hobby, but let people know that I have no talents and that I generally suck. I got Lots of very positive feedback, but not super realistic. Some things like rock climbing for example, just aren't going to happen overnight, and I have a very short window for satisfaction. A few of the responders however, suggested writing. I've dipped my toe into this pool in the past, but never to any real Effort. I’d tried my hand and churned out a few dozen pages of really bad fan-fic.  Fortunately for me, the same forum I turn to for advice when I’m in the pit of a bipolar depression cycle Also happens to have a forum dedicate to writing and people who wish to talk, think and or share about writing. What a wonderful group of folks they turned out to be. I gently stepped into the open discussion thread, shared an idea, got some feedback on that idea and set about to  putting thoughts onto paper. What came from this was my first successful attempt at the story that I’m now writing. I was Super proud of this, this was my story, this was the world that I wanted to build and these were the people that I wanted to populate it with. The one thing I also did however, was fill it So full of specialized jargon, that folks who knew me, and knew how my thoughts normally went, couldn't make heads or tails of it. Being me, I of course, blamed the person reading it, in that they “just weren't the right audience”. Later, I found another discussion thread with only one rule. Post Only the first three sentences of your opening paragraph, and only post them if you’re ready for honest critique. Holy Shit. I got Hammered. I generated about 10 responses, which for a thread by me, is a lot. Several were completely off point, and didn't get it at at all. One was very close to where I was going, but explained that it was simply too full of jargon for an average person, and the final totally got everything but even admitted that it was super full of specialized jargon. So to me, what was an introduction to this wonderful world, was actually just me throwing about keywords and lingo that really only made sense to me, and wouldn't honestly amount to much of anything. So, I took all of the feedback as positive, as it was, regardless of the words used, and turned it into More creative energy. I completely rewrote Everything, and wrote more and more and more. I passed this new, revision 1a on to a different person and the feedback was immediate. Not only did things make sense, but the ideas flowed together, the characters were something she could care about and the plot hooks were set so deep that when I asked the most important question “Would you buy this from Amazon for three bucks, just to finish the story?” I was met with a resounding “Yes”.

Now, up to this point, I haven’t really touched on the rollercoaster shit-train that is my bipolar. I was So charged up. I wrote over 3700 words in 1 day. more than 8 pages in MS Word, and what I consider to be about 1.5 chapters. I've introduced characters and plots, and plots within plots. I was riding so high, nothing would bring me down. Then I had to drive home. My drive home is 11 miles. It takes roughly 38-45 minutes depending on lights, and Horse & Buggy interference. It’s during this time, that the Other side of my bipolar kicks in. The doubt, the fear, the insecurity, the self-loathing. I went from being the most proud I've ever been of anything I've done simply for myself in over 20 years, to wallowing in doubt and being near tears. What was I thinking? I couldn't finish this. There’s no way I can show this to people! What if someone doesn't like it? I’ll be crushed!. All of these thoughts assaulted me, all at once, completely unbidden. What went from one of my best days was quickly turning into one of my worst, all due to a chemical imbalance, that try as I might, I really have no control over. Yes, I take my medication every day, twice a day, as prescribed. I take around 10 pills on a normal day, up to 15 on a Really bad day. Just because my brain is a little off. So for me, this is bipolar, you get to have your cake, and get it shit on too. One minute you’re a star in your own mind, and the next, a penniless hobo looking for ideas in the gutters of the internet.