Bipolar Story

For those that are not aware, I am BiPolar.  Yes, I am admitting to the world that I am bipolar. Some see this as a stigma and hide it, which I did for many many years. But, part of my health and healing in the last few years is embracing this aspect of who I am.  It is a disease just like asthma, high blood pressure, diabetes, etc., that can be controlled with medication, is hereditary and is something that is in your genes.  I have Bipolar Tyle II, which is the lesser type. It means I am not prone to the episodes you read about on the news or in movies of really extremes, like running the streets naked or suicide, etc.  But, I do cycle pretty rapidly from really depressed to really high moods.  In coming days/weeks I will be writing more on my condition and what it means to me and how I am dealing with it. As, I am deciding now how much I want to let out on the internet. But, this is a start for me.

An online friend of mine wrote this short story about bipolar.  (Posted with his permission)I think it gives an awesome idea of my condition. I post it with his permission in hopes that it will give those of you who are not familiar with this condition an idea. More to follow later. But, if you are curious, please do feel free to email me privately.

My Ice Maker Is Bipolar by "Joe"
The ice maker in my refrigerator is bipolar. I am seriously thinking about either getting it some meds or at least some counseling but maybe we will be alright. Sometimes in a whole 24 hours it will barely make enough ice to fill a large glass. I'll ask what the hell is going on and it will say,

"Oh, I don't know. Why are you yelling at me? I just don't feel good and I think I have a leak."

No, you are fine but I need you to work harder. I need enough ice for my cooler every day for work and you are not pulling your load.

"Pulling? I don't have arms. Why are you yelling at me? Life sucks and you're yelling at me."

So we talked and I said I could buy some ice or something but I don't think it heard me. It looked really depressed.

Then a few days later I opend up the freezer and there is ice every where and it is falling out of the freezer and onto the floor.

"Hey, dude! Where you been? I have been working my ass off making ice day and night and it is the best ice I ever made and I am the best ice maker ever. I feel great and I know I look great and ... oh man ... look at these last cubes I made. Gorgeous, huh?"

Yeah, they look ... uh ... great. Look as long as you are so ... uh ... hyper why don't I go and buy some gallon Zip Lock bags and we'll store away some of this extra ice for later for a party or something.

"Yeah, whatever, man. All I know is I feel great and I look great and my ice is the best ever and ... oooh, dude! Look at these I'm about to drop! Brilliant! What can I say? I am brilliant."

So I went to the store and bought some gallon Zip Locks and when I got back I opened the freezer and announced I was back.

"Why are you yelling at me? Look at my ice cubes! They suck and this job sucks and I suck. And I think I have a leak again. I just want to go and lay down and never see ice again."

The rapid ice-ling went on for a while and so we compromised so when he was making extra ice I stored it for later and, like today, when I opened the freezer and there was barely enough ice to fill a glass I just smiled and told him thanks and reached for a Zip Lock already filled with ice. I told him I knew that for him some times are tougher than others and to hang in there and that he should know I am always there for him ... good or bad ... and that no matter what I appreciated him.

He smiled ... dropped a few pitiful, half-formed cubes into the ice bin ... and mumbled, "Thanks, man. That means a lot".

I whispered, "You're welcome", and closed the freezer door.

From inside I heard a voice ...

"Why are you yelling at me?"

(A half-hour later I heard ice cubes beginning to drop every 12 minutes. As long as he tries and knows I appreciate him and that I will be patient with him when times are tough ... 'cause I know it isn't his fault anyway ... I think we will be OK.)

It is 2:30 AM now and my own hypomania has finally decided to let me sleep for a couple or three hours. I am beginning to doze off when I hear coming from the kitchen ...

"DUDE! You have got to get up and come see these ice cubes! Gorgeous! Perfect! Gorgeously perfect! Perfectly gorgeous! I'm Super Ice Maker! That's what I am. SUPER ICE MAKER! I need a mask and a costume, dude! Top of the world, ma!"

PATIENCE .... CHILL ....