That 30's Cyclones

SELF-EXPLAINATORY ILLUSTRATIONS; BY H.I.R.O - The act of getting the message across without having to speak about the suffering I’ve had as Manic Depressive.

But even more tell-tale is the text surrounding the woman- a direct reflection of attitudes towards the illness itself held by those around her. We call her the two-headed beast not because that’s how she sees herself, but because there’s how we see her.

I do have a social life!

If only life is that easy, where the size of your clothing doesn't reflect who you are and if the numbers on the scale won't hurt you.

Today let's learn to love and accept ourselves despite whatever sticks and stones thrown at us.

Its Friday night for me and this RELIEF feeling i have to take off the mask and locked myself in at home

Something positive, coming out from something so horrible. Here's some hopes for us.

You don't owe explanation to anyone for what you're feeling today!

I'M NOT BIPOLAR, I'M CONDITIONED BY BIPOLAR.. They're constantly denying my actual conditions with expectations, sarcasm, ill humor or just turn head elsewhere.

I wish to dedicate this posting to my previous Psychiatrist and fellow peers that know me from Business Synergies & those who only see me from the surface of Social Media…. I’m Bipolar and that makes me a mentally-ill person, is that it? During my first meeting with the psychiatrist, she gracefully pointed out the fact that i took interest in wearing a necklace to our session as indication to why - I can’t be that mentally ill. SHE WAS WRONG! From business counterparts, I’m a reliable employee who will swim across sea of fire to excel and exceed mediocre expectations. I engage business and work with utmost dedication, professionalism that everyone took me as someone they can rely on to get things done and i couldn’t be mentally-ill. THEY ARE WRONG! Being Bipolar and keeping up the appearance, is my core value in staying alive and to survive. I don’t want to run around the lot barefoot with my hair on fire just to show everyone that I’m not normal. The mental illness I was diagnosed with isn’t going to be my life’s biggest setbacks, even though that’s what it actually is. A High Functioning Mentally-ill person! That indicates; I’m not in mental hospital, I work to pay rent & bills, have ambitions to be great at what I’m doing and accountable to all my responsibilities. But faking normalcy and keeping things in check is a very delicate matter. WEEKDAYS MASKING; It’s important that i keep Bipolar on the shelf when i need to. I have to keep good appearance during weekdays, where i can’t afford to disappoint the employer and business partners. I produce quality work and hold on to that. You can’t do that, if all you think about is how to end your life the soon nobody’s looking. WEEKENDS DEFICIT; All the parade over 5days a week takes major toll on me,faking normal requires massive amount of energy. Sure, you go out for drinks on Friday night while I stay anxious and agitated trying to keep suicidal thoughts at bay. Utter decimation and exhaustion from keeping up the appearances. WHAT’S LEFT; I don’t have the energy or brain space left to read, pay interest on hobbies, exercising, meet friends, date or do anything else. The last thing I want to do is leave the house. I rather keep myself locked in, so i get to collapse on the floor broken to thousands pieces. All the wonderful people i know and the beautiful things world has to offer, i do appreciate all of it. But that doesn’t erase the inertia i face where all the energy sucked out from my body, just to pay bills and to upkeep the appearance. But that’s what mental illness do to me. I make excuses not to go out, ignore calls until one day it finally stop ringing and that social life is unknown to me. I have a schedule. That 5days vs 2days schedule that i have to keep. So yes, I’m mentally ill but I’m also a High functioning person that deliver efforts to keep contributing as much as any normal able bodied. I don't need to prove a point about my mental illness just to show everyone that they are wrong.

Having knowledge, is just making everything else that are complicated in my life to metasized. I’m Bipolar. Bipolar or Manic Depressive Disorder.  Mania. Depressed. Whatever you choose to describe, it won’t matter because it doesn’t make or feel easier. I am officially changed from being Erratic-Different-Creative person to a certified CRAZY person.  You know that person when you avert your eyes from looking directly because the vibes you’re getting is alarming.  Unstable . Freaky . Crazy . Social disapproval, family denial and public stigma are the major setbacks. There’s no way I could shout out loud about my mental illness. For some who knows they will continue being ignorant and keep reminding me to stay quiet about it, avoid visits to hospital, stop taking medication and just continue living like usual. As though this illness isn’t real and it will one day go away. Bipolar exists only on Hollywood movie scene. I have my medication, I refuse to take them. One to keep me in the middle, one to keep me down and the other one to keep my sanity away from paranoia. My favorite is the one that put me to sleep, because sure as hell I don’t really get plenty sleep. Sometimes I stay up all night , the energy keeps flowing and all the creative ideas make the impossible seems possible. My body revved and I can be ahead of anything else. Work performance going up but anything else going down. After that comes the crash. Like a condescending piece of trash, the elevated cycle tumbles down to tiny pieces. Knocking me with massive amount of sadness, isolation, hopelessness, anxiety and depression. How getting out of the bed in the morning is painful, calling work telling them I’m struck with cold rather admitting that I’m mentally ill and couldn’t face the world . I stop answering the phone, eventually it stops ringing. Friends are no longer friends, I don’t find the logic in keeping them. I stop going out, never dance to favorite tune , quit yoga and develop love/hate relationship with my own body. For years now, I know I’ve been stuck in my apartment. Computer and internet became my escape from reality. Sure I Facebook, Tweet and post Instagram. Pretending I’m doing great, using old pictures when I was a lot more skinnier or at least looked much happier. Perhaps I’m that aggressive unhappy go-getter bitch, that everyone thinks and sees.  At some point things escalate. Not going out has become a normal thing. Anxiety, stressed, panic attacks - the whole deal. I hide under massive workload so I’ll be too exhausted or too busy to even take care of myself . After all, the mess I’ve made in life is a perfect match for the damaged inside. Wanting to escape is the easiest way out. Then I see the faces, the responsibilities, undone work, all the expectations and together it balled up to heavy weight of guilt. To feel the guilt that I even gone suicidal, make me feel even worse. Frustration, Guilt , Responsibilities, Anger and repeat. Daily. 24/7 . Whole life is all of that. Buried under many layers of complexities or perhaps crippled by Bipolar and I’d never know or understand the pleasure of having a quiet mind - but you know, underneath it all there’s ME…

It crossed my mind more lately, to stop getting the help from hospital, the medication, psychiatric sessions and having the illness further studied to work on with. So i could go back to my ignorance life and not to be perturbed so much about my weight gain, the sucking-me-out-of-life pills, stigmatized dramas and most of all to be back being the old me. The up in the moment me, the highly driven or the lowest low of me.. I'm just getting bored of trying to analyze everything to keep things smooth around the edges since I gotten to know about my Bipolar. The medications can't truly be helping if I'm not committed to change my lifestyle. This got to be it. I'm quitting my medication once and for all.

From where I am, Mental Illness is a taboo and not to be addressed, discussed or to admit, that we need the help!