In the comments, in my post about not finding the right fit of therapist for me, someone made the following comment:


Anonymous said...
You lie. You know there are others who completly understand you. You just dont talk to them because you think it is unhealthy to do so.
Thu Jun 07, 10:05:00 AM 2007

And, what I want to know is...is it really a lie when you truly believe it to be? No, anonymous, I really don't think that people understand me. I hate it when someone says, "Oh, you're bipolar? I'm bipolar too! Oh my GAWD we are like so totally soulmates! Let's be best friends forever and ever!" (insert long cheerleader screeches and squeals at your own risk).

I believe that there are a lot of people with similar diagnoses, though my case is unique...just like everyone elses. We may all have brown eyes, but that doesn't mean we all have dark skin...you know? Everyones situation is unique to them...different than the situations of others because it is happening to that particular individual. At the time it is happening, no one has a worse situation in the world than that of the person who is suffering. People with severe bipolar know this well. We know that others are out there who are suffering more than we are, yet in our world...no one can possibly be in as much pain. Am I making sense?

With the discovery of schizophrenia along with my bipolar diagnoses, I think back to all the times I've tried to be one way, but acted another. Not like a person with multiple personalities, mind you...but someone who has had no control of herself for the past 40 years. I was a reckless child, I was a reckless teenager, I was a reckless young adult and a reckless 30-something.

I hit the brakes at 40. Enough was enough.

I think it is VERY unhealthy to talk to others who have the same disorders. First of all, people with bipolar disorder are very apt to ingratiate themselves into the lives of others. We spend a lot of time worrying and caring about the feelings of others because we cannot manage our own. Most nurses you meet have psychological disorders. There's a reason for that. Secondly, people with bipolar disorder tend to commiserate with one another...like the olympics for who has what worse and for how long. If you are an alcoholic, it is best to stay away from the bottle...or those who imbibe. I feel the same way with psychiatric disorders.

I could be dead wrong. The perfect match for my sickness may be sitting right behind another monitor somewhere, reading this and wishing I wasn't so standoffish. I try not to be...but my defensive mechanisms won't allow me to indulge myself in those kinds of friendships. I love finding people who really get me...and sadly, I can only count those people on one hand.

Shall I name them?

First and foremost is my husband. He gets me. Even when he doesn't get me, he feigns a mean understanding. There is no one in my life who will ever get me the way he does...and he's healthy. He doesn't suffer from my disease, so he is able to look at it objectively. He can tell my moods when I wake up and how my day is going to go with a simple glance into my eyes. The man knows me...deeper than a soulmate. Soulmates are bullshit anyway.

Second person who gets me? My best friend from kindergarten, Norma. She gets me. She gets mad at me because of my mood swings...but she loves me regardless. She forgives me and I have learned how to apologize to her. She's sensitive...a very bad match for someone with bipolar disorder (we aren't known for our deep sensitivities to others when we are in manic mode). But, she gets me. And when she doesn't, I love her for trying to.

Third person? An ex boyfriend of mine. I don't talk to him anymore...but he gets me. He always did. We were a very sick couple together, each of us with our very own illnesses getting off on the misery of ourselves and others. He was the perfect match for my mania and my deep depressions. It was us against the world. Just the two of us misunderstood lying, cheating, manipulative beings fucking each other and anyone else who crossed our paths. In a word, implosive. But, even now...I know he knows my inner workings. He gets me because he is so much like me. Bad combination.

And really? That's about it.

Now, I know, Anonymous, that there are millions of people in this world suffering as I do. I have met and befriended many of them from the safety of behind this monitor. We write when we are feeling good, and we don't when we simply can't.

Do I find relationships with these people unhealthy? To a degree. I feel like we are always comparing notes...playing the Who's Who of the Bipolar Community and competing on Bipolar Jeopardy. (I'll take Prozac for $500, Alex) Do I regret not getting closer to people? No. I tend to burn people out, Anonymous. I am too high strung some days, too low and miserable on others and my rapid cycling makes it unbearably hard to create strong bonds with people. There are a lot of people in my real time life that I love...but it is hard for me to stay friends with them because the happy girl who hung with you yesterday will now be the moody cunt on the phone with you today. That burns people out, Anonymous. People can only take so much before they say...you know what? That girl is FUCKED UP.

And I forgive them all.