I Love Visitors!

You'll recall a blog post of mine a week or so ago on the Having Bipolar vs. Being Bipolar topic, where I referenced a post from another blog, "salted lithium". Imagine my surprise when I woke to an email this morning notifying me that the author (Gabriel) had left me a comment on my post. I felt like a kid whose favorite rock star had just made a surprise visit. Seriously. Of course...typical me...I then had a flood of insecurity. Did he think I was too harsh? That I had nothing but total respect for his work, even if we differ on semantics? Was he pissed? Breathe in, breathe out... I probably should have told him that I was linking to his blog in the first place, just like I overlooked putting the link to his blog in my original post. [Smack to the forehead.] Durrrr. See...just like the kid with the rockstar.

He left great comments, clarifying some of the points I didn't understand. It is very satisfying to me, because it keeps me thinking. I enjoy good discourse. I always want to hear others' ideas and opinions. That's why I love visitors. If people are reading, then maybe someday I will write something that moves someone enough to comment and the exchange of ideas will flow. I love reading other people's blogs, I learn so much. The interactive ones are fascinating. Then again, I could just be a mental voyeur, because I don't usually comment. [Translation: I'm shy. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone.]

One of the comments Gabriel left me had to do with a statement I made about my Bipolar knowing it's place in my life. He made the very insightful point that it's place is to cripple. Most certainly it causes me a fair share of torment and then some. On the other hand, I also try to bitch slap it back every time. I can't change my DNA or my genetics, but I can fight for all I'm worth. Recently, it's been a battle royale. I've had to confront some very serious issues as to how Bipolar has impacted my life and my family. My primary focus in this blog is about how Bipolar and how it affects my life. It's only been 2 years since I was first diagnosed, and only 4 months since that diagnosis was changed from Type 2 to Type 1. That brought with it a whole new host of implications that I did not have cause to learn before. I struggle mightily. More than ever, I refuse to concede. It tempts me to go off my meds, it tempts me to fail in all sorts of ways, but fuck that noise in my head. I've suffered enormously for far too long. Kapowww! Get back down, you little shit. I'm the boss here and you're annoying me.

Gabriel also clarified his point about how saying I Am Bipolar vs. Being Bipolar lends a certain mystique to the illness-he sees it as a way of explaining away behavior caused by the disorder to other people and themselves. (At least that's what I took away from it.) I imagine many people do. Since I've never viewed it this way, I think I'm finally pickin' up what he's puttin' down. I didn't get it because I haven't tried to pass off my behavior. For one, I don't out myself to most people. I've educated my family and close friends who are receptive to learning about it; those who truly have my best interests at heart. Secondly, the only other times I've had cause to say I'm Bipolar is when asked about my medical history. For example, when seeing a doctor for a medical exam. I've always had a heightened, if not overly developed, sense of responsibility, so I take responsibility for how I behave. The way I see it, if you are inclined to abdicate responsibility, there is no distinction between saying you are or you have Bipolar. Either will suffice as a crutch to excuse yourself from learning about your disorder and being unable to accurately explain it. However, if saying you "are" keeps you weak and locked into fealty to your illness, you're suffering unnecessarily and being irresponsible.

I'm not trying to hammer my point home, nor trying to persuade Gabriel to my side of the fence because I still think our ultimate conclusion is the same. Like I said earlier, I just like intelligent discourse. I also enjoy playful and/or witty banter. I like jokes. Hell, I just like people.

Did I really just say that last thing? [Shhh. Don't tell anyone that, either.]