It sometimes seems to fall under that most general and universal of terms, human nature, when I try to explain the unfathomable actions of some of us. I am included in that "some." I cannot give a name to my own dimension of terror and horror -- what I was and what I became for a period of time. There is no term or list of symptoms or diagnosis capable of adequately capturing both what others have put me through and what I have put them through. Yes, I do believe there are those who are not plagued by mental illness during their lives, but often I see only dross in the crucible after the richness of living life is burned away.
My husband was a malicious, pernicious narcissist who wielded a cold and impersonal control over my every action. He never redeemed himself before or after our divorce. I, in turn, was a deep chasm of pain and depression and eventually psychosis, and could not even begin to understand how the two of us could resolve our differences, could not move far enough beyond my own suicidal ideation and suicide attempts.
What a pair!
But once I had a diagnosis (first bipolar II, then schizoaffective, then chronic schizophrenia) I had names for myself: Medusa (with a head of snakes) or Cerberus (the 3-headed dog at the entrance of Hades) or even Chimera (a fire-breathing she-monster in Greek mythology). And it was not I who burned in the crucible, but the world around me. All the gold, the silver and preciousness of love, courage, hope, faith grew incandescent...then shrank to an ember. And I was left with ashes.
I let the diagnosis become who I was. I blamed myself for everything that was wrong in my marriage. I thought I had no right to live. Or work. Or have a child. Or even ask for a separation. But by doing that, I became as much a part of the problem as my husband. And I'm not saying I could have helped it even if I had tried. Shit happens -- I'm a firm believer in that. But I didn't know how to lift myself up and out of it.
Those of you reading this -- please do not take on the character of your illness as your identity. Get help. All the help you can get, any way you can get it. Spiritual help: counseling, prayer, meditation. Physical help: basic nutrition, an exercise plan, deal with harmful addictions. Mental help: see a psychiatrist, take the meds he or she prescribes, go to a therapist. Even a small amount of courage can get you going again. Just make the effort. One step away from mental illness is one step toward mental health.
And you've heard all this before.
IF YOU CAN'T MAKE THAT STEP YET, at least THINK about it. Do what you know will help you in the long run. And I know all this sounds melodramatic. I get that way sometimes. But it is how I express myself. And it's from the heart.
I do not appreciate those who use the disorder as a means to manipulate or strongarm folks for personal gain or to continue their lack of responsibility and accountability for their behavior and actions. I really do not.
Many of the folks, like that mentioned in your piece, most likely have something other than Bipolar or something in addition to Bipolar going on. Either way, that person is not being held responsible or accountable for their behavior and actions towards those surrounding them.
They are being, instead, enabled by those surrounding them and left to continue their atrocious behavior until it gets to the point something blows. All because "he - or she - is sick" or "they can't help it they are sick" or "I can't help it I have Bipolar remember?"
Those are the ones that make the whole look, sound, and in general appear very very bad and further the stigmatization of the whole.
Bipolar is not a "free pass" card. Not really. There are far too many of us, in the population, that - as you said - are truly mortified and horrified and chastised by our own selves over things we find we've done, said, or may have.
We try, with our hardest might, to rectify, remedy, relieve, and stop whatever it is that we find most atrocious. We work hard, we raise our families, we contribute to society, and we just are trying to live our lives with the added crap of a mental illness to make it all that much more difficult to accomplish.
Many of us own up and we step up.
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Just this past couple of days I have had a situation at work in which I tried to explain how my medication can affect my cognitive and processing skills, as well as my work memory. It was neccessary in order to help a coworker understand why I was having difficulties performing certain tasks and the resulting frustration and discouragement on my part was concerning this coworker. Both of us sat down with the heads of our departments, and something very helpful came out of it for me.. it was empowering as well. Instead of saying, "I can't do this", which I was, it was alright and reasonable to say, "Is there a different, less confusing way we can do this and still have the same results?".
New to my diagnosis, I have been very uncertain about how and when to talk about it in connection to my work performance or interpersonal relationships without being accused of playing the "bipolar card". I think though, after reading your post, John, that their could be a way of differentiating the reasons or motives as to why a person would identify themself as bipolar.
Are they using it to excuse their behavior, or to explain it while still taking responsibility for their behavior.
Do they reason that being bipolar should negate them from being held responsible or accountabe, or are they asking for forgiveness along with patience and understanding.
Do they use it as the reason they can't or won't try, or do they acknowlege that with bipolar comes challenges, but not a reason to give up.