One of the hardest things about Bipolar is not the disorder itself, but rather the aftermath of what was created before diagnosis and treatment. For years i have lived a life wondering why I fell into the same cycle repeatedly. I would build up only to tear down. Things would go great and life would flow along on a good path. At Least till I got a hold of it. The other side of me rips things apart. I have failed at relationships and jobs, life itself would belly flop. The only thing is, i would never try to pick up the pieces. I ran. I have lived in more cities and states then most people out there. I would fowl something, move, fowl something, move... repeat... Things would go great... new city, new life... new talent. The funny thing that would eventually happen is this... Everywhere I went... there I was. I was like a serial killer of happiness. Me would catch up to I. Then disaster... and move. I have torn apart more dreams then I care to count.
now I know why...
So its all better now right? I'm medicated and have answers. Things are great in the ole head today?... no. I now have to piece together all the good stuff I messed up. Things I have destroyed over the years are coming back to haunt me. For some reason you don't get the Get Out Of Jail Free Card with the purchase of every prescription. You waddle in it. It consumes you. Habits at the very core of me have to be stripped. Taken apart at its very nature. I am learning that people I have hurt because of my disorder will never come to trust me. That however unintentional was the bed I made, i still get to lay in it. I did things out of fear. I was dishonest with myself, therefore I was dishonest with others. I told lies because I lived in a manic fear of the truth. I lied to the people I loved because I lived in that fear. Instead of having a conversation about something, i blew up in self defense. I always made excuses for my actions. I would yell and rant to get the conversation away from the source of the problem, which was me. Now there is no trust left and i get to revel in that.
It almost makes the treatment not worth it. You start realizing that just because you feel better about yourself doesn't mean others do. That just because now you are able to deal with issues in a stable way doesn't mean that the ones you hurt will ever believe in you. That's painful. Counter productive. I can see why a lot of people diagnosed with Bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses hit rock bottom after being treated. It sucks. I am better, see... that's what you feel, but life doesn't work that way. People you hurt, are justifiably hurt... the receiving end of this disorder sucks. It is painful. The way i have treated people is wrong. And for that i am sorry a thousand times over... but to forgive is sometimes beyond obtainable.
It stinks being unable to answer for your actions. I cant tell you how many times I was asked why I said something or why i did this or that. It is an awful feeling to know how much pain you caused. Its no fun to come to terms with the outcome of the things you ruined. The things I hold most dear are no longer mine, because of me... swallow that one....
You wake up one day with the answers.
You rethink the things you have done.
You piece together the things you have broken.
... you reflect and live in remorse of the things you have destroyed.
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