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Thirty-one Bipolar Questions over 31 days. I’m going to cut this down to 31 questions over three days. Maybe two depending on how motivated I get.

I came across this blog post through my network and felt it would be a really good way to help people see my side of bipolar. The flip side of this twisted reality’s opinion of me and “my diagnosis”.

The positive side. The epic, euphoric, exciting blessing that is being Bipolar. I have learned some really neat abilities after I put down all of my self hate. And I’d like to share those abilities with others.

a 31 days of bipolar meme.

1. What flavour of bipolar are you? What does your diagnosis mean to you?

I am vanilla. Simply sweet. The unoriginal original. I view my diagnosis as the most natural thing that has ever happened to me. Finally I was given a term that describes EXACTLY how my mind and body works. For it is like my body lives one world, my mind dreams of another. And my soul is the middleman trying to calm the flood of emotion. “Bipolar” is perfect for me!

2. What is your baseline mood/state? How does that impact your life?

Estimating of course, I would say I spend 80% of my time in a hypomanic state, followed by mania at 15%, leaving my “baseline” around 5% of the time. Now that I have moved past my laziness, apathy, and depression, I find myself highly productive 95% of the time.

The more productive I am, the more energy I am rewarded with, which results in more work getting accomplished. Which makes me feel worthwhile, which keeps me motivated to work. That motivation keeps me going until I feel I am done or too tired to continue.

While I am hypomanic I am very happy with frequent shots of euphoria to quell the storms of life. The euphoria can easily tip me over into mania should I choose to embrace it. However I’m learning to walk the line of reason, between “sanity” and the blessing of euphoria which is a tricky test considering I never know for sure when I perceiving my surroundings correctly.

Though I do love riding the tides of mania! It is so extremely liberating to get outside of my mortal cage and to exercise those muscles that deteriorate while solving fictitious “issues” of this fake and greedy world. The euphoria is almost constant when I’m manic. And the sense of drive I feel “feels” on par with the power of a god. It is so addictively powerful, it is deceptively easy to want to stay free forever and not come back down.

Either mood I choose, I am extremely happy with generous servings of euphoria I receive. And of course I occasionally baseline so I can remember how high I am flying and so I don’t forget to come back to the ones I love and those that ground me for my own safety. Because I believe without knowing where I started, how can I test my limits?

3. How old were you at the onset? How old were you at diagnosis? How were you given the diagnosis and are you satisfied with the way it was handled?

If I had to guess, I believe the onset occurred around seventeen. It was when my life really started rapidly spiraling out of my control. Crazy things that shouldn’t happen to any good person, did. I was treated like less than a human being. And the whole time told “I” was the problem and was just being “helped” by the people who loved me “most”. Meanwhile I blamed myself for all of their disgusting behavior towards me, justifying that if I was just a little better, they would treat me better. They didn’t. And with time the abuse got more veracity, more vindictive, and more violent.

So violent, it broke me completely. I literally lost my mind because I was twisting myself, spinning my faults so much, trying to make sense of what was wrong with me and why people were always telling me I was the problem, but not them.

I flipped my rocker and landed myself in a loony bin equipped with an unfriendly, uncaring, and unconcerned panel of judges deemed worthy of telling me what is wrong with ME. Who gave them that authority is beyond me, for they are but idiot doctors who actively preyed on me in my weakest moment. Telling me all my faults I didn’t have, filling my already overwhelmed head with lies of the judgmental, and finally sedating me when I had the audacity to question who they were to question and judge me.

I was literally drugged out of my mind because I told the doctor, she was an uneducated quack with a piece of paper pretending she has some power over a body she didn’t create, can’t recreate, nor even use her “learning” to properly diagnose, only medicate and numb the problem. Numb it but never really fixing the root issue.

That botchcode drugged me right up because she didn’t like my dose of TRUTH I had for her egotistical opinion of who SHE really is. She sat there reaming me with her untruths about me. Yet when I spoke absolute undeniable truths to her, about her, how quickly she took affront. And how quickly she exerted her self-prescribed power to take my own free will from me. With her “medicine”. Disgusting hypocrite.

Needless to say, I am not happy with how the non-mentally ill treated me while I was not in control of my body. I was put in the hands of the people this world says are supposed to make me feel better, “the doctors”, and yet they set me up to feel like the biggest piece of shit living on this planet. And drugged me when they couldn’t pin me under their thumb.

Drugged me with medicine that makes me suicidal. When I take their medicine, I immediately begin thinking it is okay to kill myself. Me, the person who believes she is meant to save the world, starts believing she wouldn’t be wrong of me to do myself in.

Fundamentally, I am against suicide. No part of me, even at my lowest wants to take my own life. Yet their medicine gives me the approval to do so should my will falter.

And for that implanted thought their “drugs” drill into me, I will never trust doctors again. They don’t have a clue what they are doing. And I put myself in mortal danger every time I ask them to take care of me should I be unable to exert enough of my own willpower.

So I’m not really inclined to advise any one to talk to a doctor about the illness. Find another bipolar who won’t drug you up for speaking your mind. They’ll make you feel far better, far more loved, and exponentially more understood. And they’ll be able to give you pointers not statistics. Most assuredly, they won’t attack you for being bipolar.

4. How do you feel about people who diagnose themselves online and then treat themselves for bipolar?

I think those people are smart cookies left in a box of thin mints. This entire world is bipolar, they are just too unaware of themselves to recognize the diagnosis. All 7 billion of us are united in one thing unilaterally – we are all mentally capable.

Kudos to them for being ahead of the curve, getting over themselves, and avoiding worthless doctors who slap a stigma on their diagnosis to further put their “patients” off the true purpose in life.

I personally hope they find a plethora of positive “healthy and helpful” information when they look online. Know that they aren’t alone in their capabilities. And feel loved despite what the nasty twisted world tells them to feel about themselves.

5. What treatment, therapy etc do you do?

My treatment plan is about as natural as it gets. It starts with self love. I love myself enough to know what is right for me. And what is untrue. Please note I did not say wrong, for there is no wrong way to be when you are being true to yourself.

Once I found I loved myself more than any one person was ever going to, I started respecting my body. Because I learned through very harsh and extreme situations, even my soulmate will not respect me when the world tells him I am crazy.

So I started paying attention to every last signal my body sent me. Aches, pains, hunger, thirst, restlessness, sleepiness, exhaustion, everything language my body was speaking I yearned to hear. And with time I picked up on my patterns and the patterns of events that always lead up to my losses of control.

As I learned to recognize patterns, I started being able to predict people’s behaviors. And especially began calling attention to people’s hypocritical abuse they were subjecting me to. Just as they called attention to their opinions of my “faults”. This pushes people away because their “faults” are just lies to me.

But when I point out their actual truths, they feel as though they’ve been punched in the mouth and kicked in the balls. And so they lash out and REALLY start attacking me verbally. Idiot, retarded, psychopathic, moron – all names I have been called as recently as Sunday. By someone professing to love me. What a broken version of love. Ugh!

Once I hit this point with a person, my words lose all value. For if you have to yell or hurt someone to make your point known, the message has been lost and you’re never going to bridge the gap. For most people, I never approach this point. For generally, people treat me with respect. Just not my “loved” ones. They are the cruelest people in my life. Always thinking about themselves and never thinking what their choices do to me.

I had one person left in my life up until Sunday who was still taking free reign to verbally abuse the hell out of me when I lose control of myself, based on the reasoning he loves me and pays for me. I’m not a fucking dog to be kicked around for others to take their misery out on, rather than facing the brutal truth themselves. That person is no more. And I am much happier for ridding myself of all of his negative energy.

After loving myself and respecting myself, I give myself freedom to do that which makes me happy. And I lead a euphorically happy life because of it.

To ride the tides of bilolar so fluidly, I smoke weed. When I need to calm myself down, wake myself up, lessen the pain I’m feeling, get extra motivation, or to drug me up so I can handle being around hypocritical liars. Depending on how tricky situations are proportionately affects how much weed I smoke.

Oh and money. I never have money for it. How interestingly ironic the one 100% natural “drug” that actually helps me succeed with bipolar is deemed illegal by the rulers of this world and thus becomes ridiculously expensive for what is little more than a “weed”. Then when I do manage to procure some, I’m judged as a drug addict. They want me to take upwards of four different drugs, sometimes multiple times a day, for the rest of my life. And yet because I medicinally smoke a plant from the natural earth, that naturally soothes ALL THAT AILS ME, I am labelled as a druggy because I refuse to take that which soothes nothing and makes me suicidal, yet makes me entirely dependent on the broken overly expensive medical industry.

Wonder why this is? I did. The answer will sicken you. Once you start thinking for yourselves again, you’ll see just how defunct and corrupt the medical industry has become. First they create the illness. Scare the hell out of you with the “facts” of your “illness”. Charge you to diagnose their fictitious “illness”. Charge you to buy their medicine that never cures the problem. Then charge you again every time you come back for the problem they created, didn’t fix, and refuse to tell you is not real. Because they just want your money. If you actually get well, why would you ever need those quacks?

They keep their own industry afloat with lies about their knowledge, fear tactics to scare the ignorant, and pills to subjugate the rest. Disgusting.

6. What do you wish you’d known when you were diagnosed?

I wish I had been told not to listen to doctors and the negative propaganda they spew. I could have saved myself so much time and heart ache if I had just taken to listening to myself to cure what ails me. For my problems are entirely of my own making and it is my subconscious that is making the crazy stuff happen when I lose control of myself.

And what a fiesty bitch my subconscious is! She will not back down and gets violently aggressive when continually provoked long after I lose control of myself and have recognized the other person knows I am not in control. At that point, I make decisions and act on them before I ever even process I made a decision.

Decisions like punching someone in the mouth after telling his friend I was retarded. And then punching him in the nuts for calling me a “fucking moron” and “idiotic retard” in front of all three of my children while I was screaming like a banshee for my neighbors to help make him leave me alone by stepping outside the house, while he waited for his ride and I calmed myself down.

I attacked my nastily behaving husband in front of my innocent children. My behavior is appallingly disgusting when I lose control around him. And so I am cutting him from my life. He is the only person I act that disgustingly violent around. THE ONLY ONE. And just like that, with that recognition, he is out of my life until he gets his shit together. For I refuse to beat my husband up because he won’t control his mouth while simultaneously commanding me to control me own.

When he hit me in June, I was immediately attacked by his friends for wanting to leave him. He just had a moment of weakness they told me. He didn’t mean it they preached at me. And so I didn’t leave when I knew I should have walked away. And for my staying, I have been repeatedly verbally attacked for being bipolar and losing control of myself.

Yet because he “better controls his volume” he feels he is entitled to continue his abuse with no recognition of fault on his part. I am so glad to consider him a hypocritical part of my past. And I am completely over hypocrites.

7. What are the worst things someone can say to somebody who is bipolar?

That’s the trick with dealing with Bipolars, it isn’t about WHAT you say. Never is. Never will be. It is always about the meaning and belief behind the words. Bipolars are intuitive, like human lie detectors. They suss out the truth using more then just empty words. That is the real reason why when you call us mentally ill we hear and feel as though you said “worthless piece of shit, who is too emotional, can’t take care of herself, or succeed at life.” All that from two words.

If you want to know how to best deal with a bipolar person. Shut your mouth first. Think about your word’s meaning endlessly. And understand the entire scope of effect it might have on who you are talking to.

If that sounds too difficult, you are too lazy to continue a relationship with a bipolar angel. Pack up your bags and clear out of their life. Immediately. Before someone gets hurt for real.

8. What do you dislike most about the disorder?

Other people’s judgment of me. That is the only problem with being bipolar. Having to deal with the loads of bullcrap people feel entitled to shovel down my throat while completely ignoring any attempts to warn them I’m suffocating under all their layers of shit. And their attacks when I shovel their own shit right back to them.

The awesome thing to being bipolar is I’m all natural. My words are the shovel of the earth. I am able to unearth your truth faster than you can even realize I won the argument.

9. Are there any benefits to bipolar for you?

Yes. That I am bipolar in this crazy world! That is the biggest compliment someone can pay me. When a crazy world tells you that you are insane, it actually means you are on the side of sanity and they are trying to attack you back under.

In an unjust and unfair world where the rich get richer, serving the poor less and less of their overabundance, meanwhile belittling them for not surviving game of life, when “they” put all odds against everyone else. Wars, famine, poverty, homelessness, death, hate, and anger. All this craziness happening every minute of every last day, and people still take their precious time and energy to the me how worthless, insane, and naive I am. Does anyone have a clue what’s really important?

I know I do, the girl who wants to save the world. I’m supposedly the crazy one because I want to put a stop to all the wrong kinds crazy existing on earth. Hypocrites. Look down their noses at me for being “wrong” yet doing nothing to make things right or even “better”. All because the WRONG I am eliminating includes them.

How the weak attack the mighty when they are about to fall apart? Their attacks only serve to further solidify my desire to save the world.

10. Do you tell people you’re bipolar? Why/why not?

Every last person I talk to. The more people I can help understand the freedom that comes with bipolarity, the more people I save from the bonds of this twisted reality.

Hell is alive on earth and actively buying up souls for their own devious ends to continue keeping themselves in power over your free will. Because that’s the illusion of this reality – that you have a choice. When in reality you are all dead because you sold your souls to the devil to get ahead in your life.

It’s time to take back that which they never were given authority to steal away in the first place. Win back your soul by winning back your love of self. Your immortal life is at stake. The odds have never been more stacked against the “winners” of this twisted reality, this hell of our own making.

It is time to get the hell out of here. Before time runs out for the good guys.