The Bipolar Identity

Madwoman here, reporting for duty. Have been very busy these past few days, but it looks like things are going to settle down a bit.....maybe. You never know, really. I saw Nic today, and we had fun. We did some shopping and ate at Chipoltle. One thing I think people forget, in the treatment of the mentally ill....we are human beings, just like everyone. Nic and I are adults, not children, and it's getting old that our families look down on us as if we are deficient. With medical treatment, we have the same potential as anyone. If her family keeps holding her back, Nic is going to go totally insane once she gets out on her own. I had to learn moderation in all things, and I learned it the hard way, because I was treated like a little kid until I moved out on my own. My parents were very much my wardens when I lived at home, and they were never like that with my brother. I went a little crazy when I got out of their house, and I'm lucky to be here, considering things I've done in the past. I hate even mentioning I'm mentally ill, now. People automatically assume I'm a train wreck, and while I have my bad days, I'm ok. This blog is cathartic for me, because if I can write as a madwoman, I don't have to live as one. Anyway, to me, there is a difference between "madness" and bipolar. One is a state of mind, and the other is a chronic illness. I'm strange, yes, but it's mostly unrelated to being bipolar. The bipolar is largely treated. I do get depressed, still, but it's separate from my sense of who I am. It seems people want to pigeonhole me, and I won't accept it. I feel my family, in particular, has relegated me to "the attic" out of shame and fear. I used to believe that everything could be blamed on bipolar disorder, but now I am starting to take responsibility for my life. I just don't like being labeled like that, especially because so few people understand what it actually means to be bipolar. Yes, this blog is the work of a troubled soul, but there's more to me than just that.