I recently was diagnosed literally last week. I mean, on some level I always knew, but damn, getting that official diagnosis has hit me heavier than I thought it would.
Currently I’ve been saying that, “I have the bipolar” to add a little levity, but also cos…I don’t know if there’s sufficient enough words in the English language to describe exactly how I feel. “I am” or “I have” is limiting when I really want to say something more akin to “I’m experiencing.”
Who knows how I’ll feel about it next week, but I’m thinking that’s kind of the basis for this whole bipolar situation anyways, right? It’s ever-evolving.
I see life with bipolar as something I steward. I have had bipolar for almost thirty years. I went through the scary stages when I was unstable for long periods of time. I went through three hospitalizations. I crashed and burned professionally and personally over and over, but now I have reached a stage, mostly due to the ketogenic diet, where I am the most stable I have ever been. I consider myself a steward of bipolar because it is not gone, I still take medication along with doing keto, but it has been in remission for about three years now. I am no longer white-knuckling, I am partnering.
I like this. I think you’re on to something. The way I read this, ‘stewardship’ leaves room for bipolar / mania to be a force or a signal without value judgment. It keeps ‘bipolar’ context independent. I like how it gives a bit of distance but maintains agency, too. Going to sit with this. Thanks for commenting.
Recently this has been an experience that is front of mind for me. I've oscillated between, "I have" to "I am" over the years. I've found that "I have" has allowed me to distance myself from the disorder, which has decreased the shame I experience with the condition. The professional aspect plays a huge part and is pertinent for me right now as I am on medical leave, and evaluating what work might look like in the future.
One thing that I've been wrestling with is that despite knowing that bipolar is a life long disorder, I've secretly held out hope that I can avoid mainly depressive episodes. But I've finally embraced that these cycles will come and go, but permanent stability is likely not possible. Embracing this reality has made me question how to identify with the disorder. I don't want it to define me, but it may also be the healing I can help bring to the world. It's complicated. Thankful to have people wrestling with it from the inside rather than a therapists theories.
I'd be interested in how that worked. I've thought about exploring because last two years have been so rough. Not sure what it would even look like or if it would be right move.
I just read your piece and believe I understand your choice and perspective. I should say that I'm grateful not to have not dealt with suicide a a feature of my condition, but do experience intrusive thoughts during depressive episodes. I'm glad you're still here to share.
I felt similarly early on, i.e. that "I am not my bipolar disorder." And in a way, I still do—I'm so much more and so are you. For me, I know I invest far too much time and effort into managing my condition—and my experience correlates far too well with minds and stories like mine—for me to not to credit this experience as part of who I am, too. Proudly.
So I choose to meet stigma and shame with pride. My brain is just different. It doesn't fit everywhere or like everything or every one. So I've learned how to treat myself better. To me, my variety of experience and perspective both inside and outside of 'sanity' are merit badges and milestones to be proud of or proud to have behind me.
You earned a subscriber in me. I'll be curious to see if/how your take may shift over time.
Great article and something I think and talk about a lot.
Establishing my (new) identity with bipolar is very challenging.
I don't have a profession anymore, so who am I?
What do people say when they refer to me?
I suspect it's variable.
I tend to say/write that I have Bipolar, but sometimes I say I suffer with bipolar, which is true, but I don't want to be defined by it or be seen as a victim of it.
I Live Bipolar? Doesn't sound grammatically correct and wouldn't come out naturally, but maybe that's the point! Use it to stimulate conversation...
You bring up a very good point about work / professional identity that I'm still working through myself. When bipolar disorder sidelines you from the workplace you can lose who you are, your sense of self especially if you're the type to get lost in your work which is common in a workaholic culture like the U.S.
They say "you are what you do most often." Managing my bipolar is a part-time and sometimes full-time job that I take very seriously. Every day and every night I take my medicine. Every week I go to therapy. Every month I have my doctor and pharmacist refill my medication. And I know I must stay mindful of my mood and energy in order to be my best self.
And, if any given day I feel an exhilarating stream of ideas flow through my brain like blood through my veins—an experience I share with bipolars across time and space—then for me, this very much a part of who I am.
I recently was diagnosed literally last week. I mean, on some level I always knew, but damn, getting that official diagnosis has hit me heavier than I thought it would.
Currently I’ve been saying that, “I have the bipolar” to add a little levity, but also cos…I don’t know if there’s sufficient enough words in the English language to describe exactly how I feel. “I am” or “I have” is limiting when I really want to say something more akin to “I’m experiencing.”
Who knows how I’ll feel about it next week, but I’m thinking that’s kind of the basis for this whole bipolar situation anyways, right? It’s ever-evolving.
I see life with bipolar as something I steward. I have had bipolar for almost thirty years. I went through the scary stages when I was unstable for long periods of time. I went through three hospitalizations. I crashed and burned professionally and personally over and over, but now I have reached a stage, mostly due to the ketogenic diet, where I am the most stable I have ever been. I consider myself a steward of bipolar because it is not gone, I still take medication along with doing keto, but it has been in remission for about three years now. I am no longer white-knuckling, I am partnering.
I like this. I think you’re on to something. The way I read this, ‘stewardship’ leaves room for bipolar / mania to be a force or a signal without value judgment. It keeps ‘bipolar’ context independent. I like how it gives a bit of distance but maintains agency, too. Going to sit with this. Thanks for commenting.
Recently this has been an experience that is front of mind for me. I've oscillated between, "I have" to "I am" over the years. I've found that "I have" has allowed me to distance myself from the disorder, which has decreased the shame I experience with the condition. The professional aspect plays a huge part and is pertinent for me right now as I am on medical leave, and evaluating what work might look like in the future.
One thing that I've been wrestling with is that despite knowing that bipolar is a life long disorder, I've secretly held out hope that I can avoid mainly depressive episodes. But I've finally embraced that these cycles will come and go, but permanent stability is likely not possible. Embracing this reality has made me question how to identify with the disorder. I don't want it to define me, but it may also be the healing I can help bring to the world. It's complicated. Thankful to have people wrestling with it from the inside rather than a therapists theories.
Right there with you, breuther. Right here with you.
And I was on private disability leave for years (stay tuned)...
I'd be interested in how that worked. I've thought about exploring because last two years have been so rough. Not sure what it would even look like or if it would be right move.
Interesting. I wrote on this exact topic a while ago. Cool to see other perspectives!
https://thebipolarbro.substack.com/p/im-not-bipolar-i-have-bipolar-disorder?r=5oqg12&utm_medium=ios
I'm glad you responded, 'Bro!
I just read your piece and believe I understand your choice and perspective. I should say that I'm grateful not to have not dealt with suicide a a feature of my condition, but do experience intrusive thoughts during depressive episodes. I'm glad you're still here to share.
I felt similarly early on, i.e. that "I am not my bipolar disorder." And in a way, I still do—I'm so much more and so are you. For me, I know I invest far too much time and effort into managing my condition—and my experience correlates far too well with minds and stories like mine—for me to not to credit this experience as part of who I am, too. Proudly.
So I choose to meet stigma and shame with pride. My brain is just different. It doesn't fit everywhere or like everything or every one. So I've learned how to treat myself better. To me, my variety of experience and perspective both inside and outside of 'sanity' are merit badges and milestones to be proud of or proud to have behind me.
You earned a subscriber in me. I'll be curious to see if/how your take may shift over time.
Great article and something I think and talk about a lot.
Establishing my (new) identity with bipolar is very challenging.
I don't have a profession anymore, so who am I?
What do people say when they refer to me?
I suspect it's variable.
I tend to say/write that I have Bipolar, but sometimes I say I suffer with bipolar, which is true, but I don't want to be defined by it or be seen as a victim of it.
I Live Bipolar? Doesn't sound grammatically correct and wouldn't come out naturally, but maybe that's the point! Use it to stimulate conversation...
Thanks, Dom.
You bring up a very good point about work / professional identity that I'm still working through myself. When bipolar disorder sidelines you from the workplace you can lose who you are, your sense of self especially if you're the type to get lost in your work which is common in a workaholic culture like the U.S.
They say "you are what you do most often." Managing my bipolar is a part-time and sometimes full-time job that I take very seriously. Every day and every night I take my medicine. Every week I go to therapy. Every month I have my doctor and pharmacist refill my medication. And I know I must stay mindful of my mood and energy in order to be my best self.
And, if any given day I feel an exhilarating stream of ideas flow through my brain like blood through my veins—an experience I share with bipolars across time and space—then for me, this very much a part of who I am.
And like any job, it's worth doing well.
I live with 🐭