Because I am an "adult," I struggle endlessly with not knowing whether I’m very smart, or very stupid. Whether I can learn and apply concepts without limits, or if I'm confined to a confused and muddled display of what I already know.
Dating was never easy; I'm not repulsive, or annoying, or trashy. Dating has been so hard because there are days, even months where I seem to always say the right thing, do the right thing, be the right level thoughtful at the right times and have the right things to offer. And then there are the other times. Months, and sometimes years, where I couldn’t manage a smile for a loved one. Where I couldn’t say “hi” without absolute terror. Where I couldn’t “make a move” without it being the wrong one at the wrong time. There were times when I could build new relationships effortlessly, or at least with the right amount of effort, and then other times when I couldn’t salvage a long-standing relationship to save a life. And it might have. This sounds like agoraphobia - and it would be if it was just that.
Years later in my 30's, I stopped dating or even considering myself eligible. Even during my better times, I find myself in a position to turn down the results of my unintended flirtations, and to explain that I’m not as I might seem, and not something you want to get mixed up with. I really can’t be a husband, father, friend, or much else. At least not reliably.
Jobs were never easy. Not because I have no skills or don’t know how to work, or don’t try enough. Jobs were a problem because I could walk into a place that wasn’t even hiring, and walk out with a job that didn’t exist before I suggested in the perfect words that it should, and that I should be it. Because, for weeks on end I could do that job flawlessly. But, inevitably, I would become hardly able to organize myself well enough to even show up on time or remember how to do the most basic functions. I could create and do a job so well that it was relied upon and necessary - and then fail so badly it was hardly worth putting on a resume.
Having gotten older, I've been lucky enough to find a very understanding, empathetic doctor. Together, we've found an incredibly effective medication cocktail. It'll cut my lifespan by years - but the ones I have are enjoyable. It has decimated my effective IQ - but I can now hold a simple job. It has taken the use of my right arm away through a side effect - a permanent one - called dyskinesia. The thing is, those costs are massively outweighed by getting a second chance at life. I'd have gladly paid an arm and a leg. Looks like I got a half-price deal!
Bipolar is often made light of in popular culture. Moody, indecisive, a flip-flopper. And it would be okay if that’s what it was. But it isn’t. It’s a completely life-destructive thing, and for some of us, it has destroyed lives.
