Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Leaving My World Behind

To say that I have an interesting life would be an understatement. Within each minute of every single day there is never a dull moment. My thoughts drive me to a far off magical land that the majority of the world's population would never fathom visiting; for they do not know of its existence.

I have special powers bestowed upon me. I possess the ability to experience every emotion with fervent intensity. With my mood swings come passion and compassion. Whether in mania or a depression, my feelings are extreme. I love the exhilaration of mania. I welcome the deep desperation of depression. 

I live in a land of wonder. In my mind, riding the roller coaster that I call life is invigorating. There is a new adventure with every twist and turn.

A year and a half ago, my life as I knew it was turned upside down. I felt like a cruel avionic creature from up above suddenly swooped over my head and dropped an enormous boulder on top of me. This catastrophic event has had a colossal effect to my psyche. I was notified that the life that I had come to know and love was abnormal. It was revealed to me that my erratic shifts in mood were symptoms of a mental illness. The name of the condition is bipolar disorder. 

Accepting my diagnosis was relatively easy. I scoured the internet in search for answers. I learned how my brain works and how it affects my behavior. It then became simple to make the connections that helped explain the numerous mysteries of my life. I do not have a problem with knowing that I have bipolar disorder. The problem lies in the realization that treatment is a component necessary to incorporate into my life. 

I am traveling on the road to normalcy with the help of medication and therapy. I despise this journey. What if I do not want to live a normal life? Is society's measure of what is considered to be normal of utmost importance?  This constant argument plays within the deepest recesses of my mind. Although resolving this question is supposed to be of my own choosing, I feel powerless in making a decision that I deem suitable for my inner self because society expects me to live within the realm of their own reality. The goddess within me loudly proclaims that losing my sense of reality in order to blend in with that of the world will erase the traits that make me unique, exceptional, and remarkable.

My emotions are muddied by medication. Each evening I look at my medication as if they are poison then swallow each bitter little pill. They are the tools for my undoing; they strip away my majestic mind of its greatness. It chases away the captivating daydreams that entertain me. The voices in my mind that keep me company are quieted. My imagination is suffocatedI fantasize about the idea of discontinuing the use of these psychiatric drugs in order to gain some semblance of what I once was. 

In order to make some sense of my new found mentality, therapy has taken a dominant presence in my life. When asked about the reason as to why I decided to receive therapy and the goals in which I wanted to accomplish, I replied that I needed assistance with adjusting to "normal". I thought that this portion of my ride would be easy. How hard could it be? I would be given they keys to unlock gates leading to the road of normalcy and then told the directions to where I need to go. I would simply follow the route; my psychologist being my navigation system. In my travels I have acquired numerous bumps and bruises. Unbeknownst to me, I can not expect to work towards becoming normal when I do not know its definition. 

As of now, I am still on the road to recovery. Sometimes I feel as if my vehicle is broken down in middle of what seems to be an never ending road. There are detours to overcome and roadblocks to conquer. Eventually I will reach my destination and have the ability to look into my rear view mirror without the regret of knowing that I had to drive into a tunnel of darkness in order to reach the light at the other side. 
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