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My Best Advice About Living with Bipolar Disorder

When I’m high, I can fly.  When I’m low, I sink into the deepest, darkest place.  I keep wishing I could change this.

One of my medications in particular gets me through the day.  It’s actually supposed to help with anxiety, but it sort of has the opposite effect on me.  I’ve realized that without it, I am worthless.  Less than worthless.  I just want to sit there.  To merely exist.  I don’t want to rely on pills to get me through life, but I know I have to.  I know because I’ve gone off my meds.  Many times.  I felt better, so I thought I didn’t need pills.

I felt better because of the pills.

I’ve never known how I’m supposed to feel.  How normal feels.  I’ve never known because I’ve never been normal.  Am I too happy?  Am I too sad?  Am I depressed because my meds need adjusted, or am I depressed because people get depressed?  Where does my disorder end and where does the real me begin?  I think about this a lot, and it bothers me.

Maybe I should just focus on how I feel day to day, and not worry about why.  But I do.  I want to know the real me.  Who is that?  I can be super productive, the most productive human being you’ve ever met.  And then I can be the most useless excuse of a person.  But why?  The drugs?  Just me?

I don’t think I’ll ever get to the bottom of this, and the thing is, I have to be okay with that.  I have to wake up, put one foot in front of the other, and live my life.  I have to live my life, to be here for my children, for my husband.  Apparently they kinda like me.  And I love them.  The only way to stay here with them is to take my meds as directed.  Resign myself to the fact that this is me.  This is my truth.  As much as I hate taking them, I have to take my meds.  I might not be normal, but to become the best version of me that I can be, I have to take my meds.  Have to, have to, have to.

I often get asked for advice by others who are bipolar.  I try my best to help them.  Eat right.  Exercise.  Do yoga.  Meditate.  Music, music, music.  And I have one piece of advice, the most important piece of advice of all…

Take your meds.


Very good reading. I relate to that so well. Thank u. Hard Days are rough sometimes.

Its not easy is it. I have bipolar 2. Since coming to realize this, rather than my firmly held belief that I just have persistant stubborn depression, for the past 30yrs. Now Im being medicated differently as I have actually been in a mixed state of depression with hypermania. Explains a lot! The hardest part is after all these years Ive had days in a row of feeling normal! Even good! Only to fall flat on my face when faced with a few big pressures. Back into the familiar cage of sad, scared, lonely, depressed. I hate it, and never want to go back into the hole. Its still a part of me. I have to accept that im still vulnerable to this disorder. One day at a time. Its an illness, no ones fault. Thankfully I still have a husband who loves me, but no he doesnt understand, and I pray one day he will.

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