My bipolar road trip

Bipolar snuck up on me and I was, quite honestly, the last one to see it. People with bipolar have something of a cluelessness to them. As Lizzie Simon put it "I remember I felt uncomfortable, as if my jeans were too tight and my shoes were too big, but in my head.

It was friends who revealed it to me. There was a Time magazine on the kitchen table with the cover article "Young and Bipolar." "We think you're bipolar" they began. I read the article before I left them and stopped at the bookstore on the way home. Lizzie Simon's book Detour: My Bipolar Road Trip in 4-D" was headlined in the Times article and I felt I needed to read it right then.


Lizzie's book was in stock and it had its own table as Lizzie had done a book signing the week before. I don't believe in coincidence so I had the book and read it from cover to cover before dawn. As I closed the book, I officially became bipolar.


Most people wait for a diagnosis but when things seem to fit so perfectly, a doctor's thumbs-up seems quite unnecessary. Mental illness has some of the stigma lifted but it's hard to tell someone you're bipolar without them grabbing their kids and running in the opposite direction.






The general thought is still that "we need to keep them away from us."


I always felt odd, as if I didn't fit in. It wasn't just at school or in certain clicks; I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere. I spent my first thirty years looking for a place I could call home. At the same time, I felt anointed; one of the chosen few as if I was meant for something larger.


The easiest thing for me to deal with was the manias and the lows that followed it. When I was high, the whole world want to gather around and watch me burn; when I fizzled, the crowds parted like the end of a rock concert. And I preferred it that way because I wanted to be alone. I didn't have much use for them anyway.


Friends have always called me crazy and it used to bother me but since my self-diagnosis, I've changed my response to "thank you. Normal people are so boring."


My head has never been quite settled. I can't recall a moment of peace in the last forty-two years. My brain has always been racing; I feel as though I'm running in first gear: I can't shift and I can't slow down. As I write, it's sometimes tough to get all of my ideas down; as soon as I touch the keyboard, inspiration rushes to my fingertips. It feels as though I'm watched the movie of me typing passively.


I've never been medicated as I don't trust want those medications do. As best as I can tell, they bring down the highs so the lows don't feel as low. I like the highs. I need the highs. The highs are the fuel that get me through the lows and keep me coming back for more.


This is my first official post; well it's the first one I actually typed for this blog. In the rush to get it all down, I feel as though I've missed something, but at the same time, I fear I've said to much. For the first time, I'm letting the ideas flow from my head unfiltered. Enjoy taking the ride with me.