If I am dragged to the topic of something I love about myself, I would not go there willingly. I’m never one to brag or boast. I wouldn’t tell you that I’m kind or generous or whatever; I’d leave you to find out for yourself, for actions speak louder than words.
But I would make an exception and do tell you something about me you are never likely to find out for yourself.
I love being bipolar.
This should not shock you, for the key to happiness is to love yourself, and they key to loving yourself is to accept yourself, whatever your self may hold.
It so happens that I have a bipolar self. Upon admitting this, I realized I have two options; whether to accept the fact that I’m bipolar, or forever suffer because of my refusal to accept myself.
It just so happens that I accepted being bipolar so much that I even came to appreciate it. Even admire it.
But how did I come to accept being bipolar in the first place? What is the key to acceptance?
In my honest opinion, I believe that the key to acceptance is humbleness. If you are humble enough to know your place, your abilities, advantages and disadvantages, and make sure your ego and pride fit who you really are to make space for humbleness, you will come to accept your limitations, especially the ones you cannot change.
I accept being bipolar.
I accept it the same way as I came to accept such things as darkness, evil or disease. Without darkness, we would not know light. Without evil we would not know good. Without any bad thing, we would not know the good thing it opposes.
You may be wondering if there is something that opposes bipolar disorder that I recognized. That was not my point. The point is to know the advantage of anything, even if it were a bad thing.
There are advantages to being bipolar.
In depression, you get to experience sadness, hopelessness and misery first hand. Without depression, I would have never appreciated how valuable it is to live without it.
Depression taught me the value of its absence.
In mania, you get to experience wild ambitions, pride, confidence, euphoria and creativity. But you lose your mental clarity, and with it, your logic. I would not be wrong if I say that with losing your logic, you lose your mind. If the package of mania came with mental clarity, perhaps every person on Earth would want a taste of it. But it does not. Your mind–your sanity–is your most valuable asset as a human being. If you lose your sanity, and get compensated with any number of good feelings ot characteristics, you would still not be able to compensate such a loss. Truly, if we can put sanity on one side of a scale, and every single attribute that can be had on the other, the sanity side would tip.
Mania taught me the value of its absence.
If mood were a world, then bipolar disorder is your ticket to see that world. You know more than anyone about the limb-tearing coldness of depression. You know more than anyone about the burning heat of mania. And you know, also more than anyone, where in the world of mood you would like to be. And when you get to that place, you cling to it with nails and teeth. You can be thankful for that place, be thankful for the bipolar ticket that let you know it, accept it, and even love being bipolar.