If it is in my power to improve my situation, then I’m the only one that can do it. And to stay focused on the true meaning of gratefulness, I’ve challenged myself to take one picture a day of something I am really grateful for. Thus far, its resulted in everything from a bowl of almonds, rolling waves, and sunshine to pictures of my little one!
Living with bipolar disorder I have a lot of experience in accepting things as they are. I also have a lot of experience in knowing that the more I focus on the things I can change, and accept that I am powerless over other people, places and things, the more good I do for myself.
I have very little power over things in my life, except for how I choose to perceive things. I can’t control other people’s actions or words, or any circumstance that comes my way from out in left field, or the frequency that my bipolar challenges run on. But I can choose to surround myself with positive energy, including music.
I feel that at my core, I’m a pretty positive guy. I don’t play the victim to my illness or my circumstances. I’m resilient and can handle anything. Maybe my life is predestined to be one of constant struggle. I don’t know. I do know I’m more than exhausted from being irrationally positive all the time. It’s draining and I can’t do it anymore.
I always want people to immediately understand bipolar as I do, and it is frustrating. How do you explain something so immense, and intricate, in a couple of minutes of causal conversation? I just want to get from point A to point B, quickly. But I have found that saying “hello, my name is Sean, and I have bipolar disorder,” isn’t the most effective way to set the groundwork for any type of relationship.
The first time I sought out a professional respite, a brief moment flashed by where I let out a genuine sigh of relief. After months of insomnia, I was fighting off sleep during work hours, often dosing off where I stood. There was no longer a struggle for a balance between keeping myself together, and falling into rapid cycles of mania and depression. At that point, I was holding on by a thread for my life. The morning that thread snapped, I walked into work at 4a. I realized I could no longer keep my composure and fight the rising madness I tightly kept contained inside. At 6a, I walked out of my job, called a friend, and asked for a ride to the ER. I was finally ok with giving in and seeking what I thought was going to be a period of rest and relief from my difficult and unmanageable life.