Life/Apathy and Living With Bipolar Disorder

It’s been some time since I created a post! I’ve been down and out between the holidays, the end of the school quarter, and growing deliriously ill. I am happy to report I’m writing from a somewhat clearer perspective today than, say, half a month ago.

We continue to discuss dichotomies in class, and I am fascinated with the apparent opposition of science/magic, or witchcraft. It’s intriguing considering these two identities as fringe cultures from the main society in which they would have historically existed. It is strange indeed how the micro communities interact with the macro. The exchange between the two seems to be as “alive” as we get.

They say love and hate are two very related emotions. If we consider these two halves of the same coin, I’d say the opposite of this “coin” is apathy…and “apathy” is the opposite of the “life/death” coin as well. I guess it is the black hole in the galaxy of life. How can we combat apathy? I would argue it is the most toxic entity on earth. 

I think a lot of people play “apathetic” in order to appear coy or charming, or to sidestep a heavy feeling. I have done this myself at times which is why I write so bold a claim so confidently. How much of an act is based on truth, though? What is a lie, anyway? I have so many deep, large questions and am enjoying the mysteriousness of them.

As a person diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I find tremendous liberation in the idea of the “reality” of life as existing between two bifurcations. It makes me feel as though, as a creator, anything is possible inside my brain. This different take on my diagnosis is quite empowering, rather than hindersome, and I am tremendously grateful for this perspective.

When I found out I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, for some reason my first instinct was to write to Stephen Fry about it…I suppose because he guided me through the hell of high school via the internet and books, has always been a beacon of truth and wisdom in my eyes, and is also an experiencer of bipolar disorder. I somehow had no doubts upon writing my short letter that he would respond—and, lo and behold, he did! And, he “encourage[d] [me] not to feel defined by [my] diagnosis,” advice which took me over a year to process and appreciate. Absurd as he is wise, Stephen Fry transcended the space-time-continuum in order to deliver me a purple-inked message of support, for which I truly am enormously grateful. 

“Empathy” doesn’t mean much if you don’t know where you stand and/or don’t have healthy boundaries. Every day, I work a little more on reeling in my energies, giving my love out in smaller, more intentional doses, making myself into the “badass lone ranger” of my own fantasies. “Connection” is an illusion anyway, y’know? But, like, such a lovely, admirable pursuit all at once. “Illusion is the first of all pleasures,” to quote Oscar Wilde for the fourteen hundredth time. 

Medication frightens me, because it brings me that much closer to apathy. I would rather feel the extremes of life in all its insanity than transform myself into a pliable, dull-witted husk. Perhaps even typing that has tempted some mad furies to bat down my defenses and leave me shaking my fist at the sky…I suppose only time will tell. Until then, I will be tripping along, endeavoring not to lose my mind and doing my best to avoid any descent into apathy.

Published by Hannah

Just yer average girl next door.

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