Shoots and Ladders of Bipolar Disorder

Crazy pill count:
AM 10 Adderall, 5 Zyprexa, .5 Ativan
afternoon 10 Adderall
PM 5 Zyprexa, .5 Ativan

In the two and a half years that I have had this blog, I have talked a lot about sharing with others that we are crazy.

On my, recent, crazy journey I have been more open about my bipolar disorder. I have told people I never would have imagined telling and something magical happened in this sharing. I learned that some of them are also bipolar, or have bipolar children, parents, or partners. I have learned that my crazy news, didn't shock them, or change their opinion of me.  Or if it did, they kindly didn't make it obvious to me.

Bottom line, we are crazy.

But it is not shameful.
It is not something to be embarrassed about.
It is not wrong.
It simply makes up part of who we are and how we experience the world around us.

The world is, perhaps, a little sharper to the touch to us. Our ups a little higher, and our downs a little lower. At times our feelings are exaggerated and don't match the situation. At times our feelings are far more powerful than we might know how to handle. 

Feeling emotional is not unique to bipolar disorder. Every person on this globe has feelings that aren't always exactly desirable. Everyone cries. Everyone experiences moments where all they feel they can do is scream.  This is not unique to bipolar disorder, but what is unique is our brain chemistry and how it can be unruly.

Those damn neurotransmitters don't always cooperate for us, and there's not much we can do about it. Sure we can take crazy pills, and I hope you do, but we can't sit down and have a frank conversation with our serotonin and dopamine. We can't will them to the right levels. We can't threaten them into behaving.

What we can do is work on acceptance. I know this is a big one. We're not always in a place where acceptance feels like an option.  But it is. Acceptance is always there, patiently, waiting for us. Acceptance is a long, windy road. It's bumpy and unpaved, and all the street signs have been torn down. There's not even always a map handy. It's hard work - this idea of acceptance. And it's work only we can do. I can't accept your crazy brain for you, (I promise I would if I could). You also can't accept mine for me.  But we can all get there, if we put in the work.

Why am I saying this?

I am saying this because I want you to win at this game of shoots and ladders.  I promise I'm a really good sport, I have a seriously ungodly amount of sportsmen ship trophies.  I want to play this game with you, and have you win. After all the ups and downs, all the climbing of ladders, and sliding down of shoots, I want you to get to the end and win with acceptance. And you can. So can I.

We can accept our crazy selves.
We deserve to accept our crazy selves.
We need to give ourselves this gift.

How do we do it?

We put in the work.
We go to the doctor.
We take our pills.
We reach out when we need help.
We never give up.

Until next time...