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'Try not to look concerned there is a guy behind your shoulder Mimi'. @ my Depression |
Being Bipolar as a millennial is gruelling. I am 22 years old, trying to navigate my professional life, social life and dating life - so mentally I’m always somewhere between Tramadol and Zopiclone. It’s challenging trying to keep up in the digital age anyway, never mind trying to keep up when I’m having - what feels like - an identity crisis. Fortunately, we’re in an age where mental illness is social media popular and everyone totally understands mental health… well kind-of.
I didn’t pick a more familiar unipolar depression or an
anxiety disorder out of my mental health lucky bag, so I pulled the short straw
in terms of an illness that has sympathy or understanding. I can employ some of
the lessons for depression and anxiety to myself, because my illness is an
umbrella of mental illnesses - I get depression and anxiety too! So when it’s
one of those social media days like ‘Mental Health Awareness Day’, I can really
take in the indispensible teachings that I find on social media to cure myself
of my Bipolar Disorder. For example: the
Instagram quotes.
‘Smile’. - Innovative,
well mannered, inspiriting – I always like a reminder.
A poignant Ghandi
quote that certainly wasn’t penned by Ghandi. – Liberating. Yes! – I should choose happiness.
I can also extend myself to meditational quotes, for when I
am manic.
‘Breathe’ is real
punchy. Instagram proves pretty educational. I’ve certainly acquired the
understanding that: breathing = good. Not smiling = bad.
From all the various, trendy things I have endeavoured to teach
myself in order to control my illness - I have to say that talking is really important. Sometimes I see a
quote that says ‘just talk about it’.
I enjoy those quotes. Sometimes I message my friends asking if I can call them
so I can talk about it and they respond: ‘can’t
you just message instead?’ - which is perhaps a little fallacious. Should
the inspirational quote be edited to: ‘Just
DM me about it?’.
Now, how do I find the right emoji for - ‘I’m going to kill myself’?
These kinds of decisions in my digital life are more burdensome
than the navigation with the illness itself; wearing a label is totally
enervating. It’s testing enough trying to live with Bipolar Disorder; it’s a different
breed of cat trying to learn how to best present myself as the show-stopping
‘Bipolar Mimi’. For example, in dating: do I mention my Bipolar Disorder on my
tinder profile? Should I attempt a joke? Should I mention my Bipolar Disorder
in a way that makes me more desirable?
I have Bipolar
Disorder, when I am manic I am addicted to sex.
I have Bipolar
Disorder, when I am depressed I am withdrawn and thus will not be needy.
Or should I go for something that everyone puts on his or
her Tinder bio to be relatable but just drop it in like:
Here for a good time,
not a long time. (I have Bipolar Disorder)
There are countless possibilities but I have certainly found
that telling people I have Bipolar Disorder is vital. I had an ex-boyfriend
whose family were ignorant and certainly weren’t pleased that out of all the
women he could’ve brought home to mum, he brought back a Bipolar one. The
stigma I faced and the fact that they were so appalled that they weren’t
pre-warned about my illness, has changed the way I approach dating and I now
feel it’s mature to mention my contagious disease illness. It’s like –
if I have IBS, I would need to tell my boyfriend’s family about it as soon as I
meet them just in case they aren’t okay with having someone like that in their
house. So the next time I meet a boyfriend’s family, I’ll be upfront.
Practicing what Instagram taught me: if I’m depressed, I smile. If I’m manic,
I’ll breathe.
‘Hi, I’m Mimi and I have Bipolar’.
Except if I’m manic, and my cognitive isn’t too great, it’ll
be:
‘Hi, I’m Bipolar and I have Mimi’.
If I’m depressed I’ll
probably not be there at all. But I guess both situations make a convincing
case for calling the police: ‘My son’s
dating a Bipolar!’, like calling a dog warden to collect a rabid, stray
dog.
Living with stigma can be wounding sometimes, the notion that
people have already made up their minds about you and your illness despite not genuinely
knowing you – can make me feel kind of sad. (Or if I’m off my medication, kind-of
seriously, impenetrably depressed). I’ve absorbed the ability to channel this upset
into something more constructive: like resentment. I could always just
spitefully give birth to their grandchildren. You know how people say that you
shouldn’t use children as weapons, well… what if I do? I’m not venomous, I
wouldn’t cut visitation rights or hinder relationships – I mean: I could just
breed an army of bipolar children. Bipolar Disorder is indeed hereditary, so I could
just have lots of them for extra special Bipolar power.
Seriously though, when I do feel sorry for myself – I think:
what a shame that my partner would have to date a Bipolar. Imagine him telling
his friends about me when we meet. See, I’m quite lucky that a few guys think
I’m pretty so I sometimes get the ‘How is
she still single?’ comment and that I ‘must
be crazy!’. My unfortunate, future man would then have to ratify that: yes,
she is indeed, actually crazy.
I am not exclusively crazy because of my Bipolar Disorder,
it’s also exacerbated by the fact that I am just a sensitive girl. One of the
common triggers for episodes, for example, is stress; but then my star sign’s
Cancer – so everything in life is disquieting, emotional trauma. I am reasonably
sure that even though I have been writing somewhat satirically, I’ve
inadvertently hurt my own feelings 5 times and had to take breaks to again ‘breathe’. I know what you’re thinking: ah yes, certain psychosis symptoms –
delusions… she believes in horoscopes. No, I just legitimately believe in
horoscopes. I thought I was imprisoned in a grisly nightmare by being sensitive
and Bipolar, but ultimately Gemini and Bipolar is the real hard work. I am
permanently battling an identity crisis trying to deal with a mood disorder, I
couldn’t imagine also having a star sign that is cosmically destined to make me
split.
Despite my countless hindrances and difficult times, I’ve
gotten to an amiable stage where I feel I’m in control. I don’t commonly
experience episodes, partly because I’m dosed up on lithium where my happiness
capacity is at an 8 and my sadness capacity is at a 3 (perhaps allowing a 2
when I watch a movie where a dog dies). Truthfully, the real quandary is maintaining
a harmonious, stable life despite all that I have thrown at me as a millennial
woman. My most valuable advice to others with the illness is to stay committed to
treatments and self-management, and try to be watchful of your illness because awareness
is imperative to recovery. I’ve gotten to a positive place where I – Mimi Black
– have control of my vivacious life, but I will continue to peer over my shoulder
to ensure manic Mimi Pink or low Mimi Blue doesn’t show up uninvited to
my party.