When I told my parents that I was bipola, my mother immediately began to freak out about all the crime novels she reads here the bad guy has "Manic-depression". My father actually snapped at her, which is rare. He works in a profession where a significant minority of those he has as colleagues are bipolar to some extent, so he knows the stereotypes don't hold. My mother, though is stubborn.

I, too, get tired of hearing people either say or insinuate that my illness is a:cowardice (I don't want to face the world) b) lazyness (I don't really want to work) c: an attempt to get attention (OOO, worst of all!) I have a hard time taking that from people who basically would have sat down and peed in their pants if they had had to face just one of the things that I have had to deal with in my life. Yes, I got my degree late. Yes, I am stress sensitive. Yes, I am relatively unambitious. But you know, most of the people I meet who have those attitudes would never be able to go the distance at all. My "illness" is not fun, but it has actually given me a heck of a lot of insight, empathy, and appreciation for my boundaries. It has also given me a view of what I can do f I challenge those boundaries. So called "healthy" people who mock this are often far less healthy than they think. End of sermon.

Luckily, I got moth of my religious schooling from my Dad, so although i have felt that there is a spiritual component to my problems at time, this is distinct from the bipolar itself. The devil will take whatever foothold he can get Praying more might help some stuff, but it don't touch my brand of troubles. Hang in there ((((Sarahbarrah)))).