[Ascension]

About the Author Carlton Davis is a writer, artist, architect and bipolar. Welcome to his odyssey.
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The Gift of Bipolar Disorder

March 4th, 2009 • Related • Filed Under

Filed Under: Bi polar problems • Bipolar Disorder • Mental Health • Mental illness
Tags: Add new tag • Bipolar Disease • Bipolar Disorder

I have the gift of Bipolar Disorder; so it is believed did Leonardo DaVinci and Van Gogh, my mentors as artists and writers. For more than most of my life time, 20 years to be exact, I didn’t know I had the illness, and just thought I was different from other people. I was crazy, wild, and had periods of severe depression, where I went into my studio and hid in bed for days on end. Most people did not know I was sick. They just saw me as erratic and difficult to get along with.
Often I felt life was not worth living. Like William Styron, who in his memoir of depression DARKNESS VISIBLE quotes Camus saying, “Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental problem of Philosophy,” I was constantly asking myself that question. Twice I found myself answering that life wasn’t worth it and attempted suicide. Once in college I ingested 150 aspirin tablets and a bottle of scotch, but survived. I spent a month or more on the mental ward of a large hospital. I didn’t learn much except if you want to get out of the hospital, learn to play sane. Once when much older and it appeared that my life had completely failed. (My life as an artist had gone nowhere. My career as an architect was a dismal failure. My writing was blocked.) I attempted to jump off a bridge. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put other people’s lives at risk in order to end my own.
I was placed in the hospital again and this time diagnosed as Bipolar One. The beginning of a big change happened for me. I finally got off drugs. For years I had self-medicated with cocaine and marijuana. I finally got the help I needed with my extreme mood swings. And it wasn’t the 12 steps, which hadn’t worked for me in the two times I placed myself in drug treatment programs where the prescription was to give it up to God. Well, God alone could not do it for me. I needed medication and I got it. Immediately, I didn’t want crack or pot anymore. Gradually my severe mood swings lessened and I began to feel like a whole person rather than two different people: one a likeable and gentle person and other a disagreable and violent person. The former was male, but the latter was female. I lived for many years a split life.
As legal medical drugs calmed me down, however I could see that all that happened to me was not bad. My mania gave me an energy and the courage to try new things. My depression gave me an understanding of the low points life can reach. I have had a wide range of experiences, which are a gift to only the few, and if we can keep ourselves from self-destruction we have much to offer the world in terms of insight and compassion. I know now that I can answer the question “is life worth living?” in the affirmative.

[Rebound]

As far as I'm concerned, the only "gift" it gives you is the deepest understanding of the emotional pain of others, and to help such persons if your own condition has improved.

I accept that this is of great value when it is needed; they who are willing to share their experiences deserve great thanks. And I agree there are things, like the creative products of mania, that make things slightly less awful than they could be but to me, this is not sufficient grounds to say it's worth years of:
suffering without treatment,
multiple changes in diagnosis,
complications and side effects arising from trying so many different medications,
and the damage in terms of my treatment of others, my reputation, and job prospects.

[Ascension]

I too have one life long friend and still to this day don't make new friends well, as is apparent in this forum lately. I spent at least a combined whole year between the different mental hospitals and would have been in more if not for the fact that my family let me rot in a 32 foot long fifth wheel where the only time I left was to sneak for food. I ***** and p*ssed in old soda bottles and milk jugs because I didn't want to look other's in the eye or worse hurt THEM. I had taken so much alcohol and over dosed on medication so many times that for a long time I had to force myself to not vomit at the thought of taking it because my body was convinced that pills would kill me. I lived that life for 32 years. I was told I was lazy, self centered (maybe I am but I don't mean to be, quite the contrary), unfocused, disconnected, arrogant, childish. I heard it all and still do. But I refuse to allow it to be the end of me or my happiness. I come here each and every day to try to connect with people who share, but my sincerity is not obvious I guess. I am sorry that I no longer feel that strong pull of the hate that I initially had when told I was bipolar. My experience is no worse then anyone else's and I have never trivialized anyone else. Is it really so bad to feel like I have come to terms with it? That maybe, just maybe someone else will be to to come to terms too? Am I wrong for trying to inject a little hope into this community? I know, to some extent, what a lot of people in this community have gone through. And I know that it never goes away. All of what I have been through has colored my life. I think too often we try to label things as good or bad and make sure that we have more good times then bad, but even sadness is a natural process and can be appreciated, maybe not enjoyed, but appreciated as a part of being a human being. Being overwhelmed by it all is scary and it nearly killed me and I still struggle at times with the fact that the world would be better off not plaguing my loved ones with the burden of watching over me. Being in touch with what one is feeling is a gift. How we deal with those feelings is our responsibility. Does that mean we should be perfect? No because knowing the nature of the beast let's me know I can't be, and my chances are even lower then some. Should I give in and call it quits? No I am more lenient in how I "punish" myself but I know I have to be extra vigilant. As I said in my other post maybe I should take a break. I don't know at this point if I am too unbalanced to make a solid point or if the very nature of our condition makes us unable to connect on a healthy way. To close, no one here or elsewhere will convince me that I am cursed, condemned or that my life is a shambled tattered and hollow existence and I don't expect you to be where I am at. I did however think that this was a place to share both our strength and ask for help when we are weak. I admit I fall under both.

A gift? What a load of . . . .

I accept that I have this illness. But it has given me and my family nothing but grief. I do have gifts in my life, but they have nothing to do with having bipolar disorder.

[BNLsMOM]

May we all come to embrace bipolar as a part of ourselves and celebrate the many gifts we can recieve from it. May we all know that the bad times will pass. May we feel stability as sweet relief.

This is something I have been working on in therapy, and thanks to you, Ascension, I now have the makings of a pretty good affirmation.

Thank you for sharing this author with us and your point of view.

[Anneinside]

You are free to express your opinions and feelings but for me, I can't think of bipolar as a gift. It has robbed me of years and a profession I really enjoyed. I applaud your ability to accept bipolar as a positive experience. I don't want to. Disagreeing with you doesn't mean that you aren't welcome here. Stay. Write.

[Rebound]

Ascension, you can see from your other post, I just speak my opinion. No ire was directed at you. I'm just wholly unable to agree with this idea right now.

Your posts are thought provoking and I hope you keep posting.