This is a follow up to last night's post. Regarding my bipolar disorder, I have been doing very well for the past four years or so thanks to the therapy and the meds. I am, and have been, very stable. I successfully hold down a job as a manager of people, and overall function as a "normal" human being. I live a fairly regular life and as you can see from my posts, do fairly regular things with my life. I am lucky. I know people with this disorder that can't lead decent lives or are pretty much incapacitated by it.
I have been very lucky to have had the love and support of my friends and my family, excepting of course, my wife. It was a hard illness for my family to fathom. And I'm the last person they would have ever imagined having something like this.
What really keeps my head afloat is not letting the disease (and it is a disease like any other) define me. I am not bipolar. I have bipolar disorder, and there is a difference. I've learned that I am not broken or a freak. I am a human being with an illness of the brain. That's all.
Yes, the meds have changed my personality. I used to be very upbeat, extremely talkative, and the class clown and practical joker, always screaming for attention. Now I am more quiet, subdued. I tend to listen more than talk. I am mild and very laid back. A very good friend has described this me as a "placid pond".
Every morning that I can raise my head off the pillow is a good thing, and I always find something to happy about, something to laugh about, and something to be thankful for, every day.