[Curiosity77]

I've been thinking a lot about living with bipolar in the past couple of weeks, and I'm trying to make sense of my experiences. I'm sorry for posting so much, it's helping me, and I hope it's not getting annoying for people.

I'm not even sure how to articulate what I'm thinking. I think about my life, and how different it would have been if I didn't have a mood disorder. I would be an entirely different person. The lens I've looked at the world through has been clouded by mood problems since I was 10 years old. On the one hand it looks really clear, and I can see my extreme moods and behaviors, and it looks like a person who has been sick. On the other hand, I question if I'm blowing things out of proportion, and maybe the extremes were just reactions to situations and events, and I'm calling them illness when really they are just how I am.

I don't know what's harder to accept. If I am really sick, then it means a life of meds and good self-care to prevent relapse. It means living carefully to prevent relapse, and it feels like a lot of the excitement of the past is over forever if I want to be stable. It also would mean that the right meds and treatments could eventually be found, and I might eventually feel better.

If I'm blowing things out of proportion, it means that meds are unnecessary long term, and it means that I can do riskier things with my life because I wouldn't have to be on guard for relapse all the time. It would also mean that all of my past behavior and suffering was my own fault, and I should have been able to know better. I want to take risks, I don't want to live safely. I don't think most people on this site would understand why I want to take the risks I want to take, because I don't even understand it, but I feel like I'm giving up a piece of myself if I live too safely.

So I can't tell if I'm drawn to self expression or self destruction. It seems like the same actions can be interpreted in multiple ways. I am responsible for everything that has happened, and maybe I just want an illness to blame my mistakes on. But is that legitimate?

I've been in a low grade depression for so long that it's easy to forget the extremes. I know things have been pretty intense in the past, but it almost feels like those memories happened to a different person. I feel like I miss my old chaos, but it was also so painful to feel that way. I don't know if I'll ever find an answer because I'm not even sure what my question is, but I am trying to somehow understand.

I don't know if you are, but I used to not think I was. I just thought it was bad decisions. I look around and see people everywhere who appear happy and content. They have families, houses, hobbies, which equates to lives. I have none of that. Nothing but a bottomless pit. I have always worked since I was 12 years old. I have degenerative disc disease and need surgery in order to do any repetitive physical activity. That limits my work options. The work I obtained since herniating disc in 1994 was for easier work. I hated all of it and mad at myself for it happening. Went into a terrible depression. It comes and goes. I got laid off in 2005. Took me 3 years to get steady job that I could do. Managed to hold it for 3 years. Had outbursts 2 or 3 times which went on my record. Got fired. Went to work stocking at a Wal Mart in 2011 (not many jobs avaialable for middle age with no degree). Because of back, lasted 3 weeks. Quit and almost ended myself. Worked odd end jobs for while (not steady) and hired in a warehouse pulling orders. After 3 weeks and eating 15 Tylenol a day, still in massive pain, and did not urinate for 1 whole day, I quit. My vocational rehab counselor advised me to. After that, I was doing things trying to talk myself into ending it
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I don't have a clue if and/or when I will get ssdi. My therapist first said I should. I mentioned getting a job the other day, he said try a temp service. I am freaked out to try, because I don't think I can handle it if it doesn't work out. I really don't think mentally I'm anywhere mentally ready. But I've got to start providing for myself. Living dependent on father whom I despised growing up is extremely humilitating.

So in short, I have began to believe, at least for my sake, that I truly do have a debilitating mental problem.

[Curiosity77]

I don't even know why I keep questioning myself and obsessing... I know things get bad sometimes, and other times I am OK. I wish I didn't feel the need to define it.