My wife will tell you she fell in love with the sick guy, and I suppose she did. She is a complicated person and would never have been happy with an ordinary life; she loves my edginess, my wit, my humor, my creativity and even my darkness.
She doesn’t like, or even do, easy – a facet of her personality I am grateful for, but being married to me – a man with Bipolar Disorder, challenges her relationship skills to an absurd degree, especially when I am depressed.
I am at my worst when I’m depressed … I’m irritable, moody, apathetic, angry and unpredictable. I have been known to rage. And let’s not forget my depression has psychotic features, which means I analyze every word she (my wife) says and put my own spin on it – my own fallacious, ridiculous and often cruel spin on it. I’m paranoid and anxious. I am no fun when I’m depressed.
However, when I’m manic …
I’m happy. I believe in myself. I’m sexually alive, free and uninhibited. I’m exciting and spontaneous. And somehow, I’ve been able to – for the most part – channel my mania for good. Productive, constructive good.
While in the longest bout of mania I have experienced to date, I simultaneously finished college, got my 2nd degree black belt in martial arts, worked my full time job while moonlighting as an adjunct professor at a local community college – and I never missed a beat as a father! (Not bad, huh? I didn’t need much sleep in those days!)
As a husband I’m deeply empathetic, compassionate and fully engaged in my marriage when I’m manic — my passion knows no bounds. Mania, in my case, is the silver-lining to my cloudy, dark depression. It’s really no wonder that my wife says she fell in love with the sick guy, and it’s easy to see why.
The most complex and difficult part of treating my Bipolar has been finding and maintaining balance through chemistry and pharmaceuticals. I, and even my wife, understand(s) why so many refuse to take their meds; no one wants to lose the best of who they are to a drug induced zombie-like state of being.
For better or worse, I am happiest in all aspects of my life when I am not depressed, and feel slightly manic. I wouldn’t dream of not taking my meds, but my psychiatrist and I have worked very hard at getting the balance just right for me. I have been both under and over medicated – both horrible states, but over-medicated is so much worse. Moronic and sad is no way to go through life.
Right now, my drug cocktail is in perfect balance and I feel better than I ever have before – and I’m still creative and fun, spontaneous without being impulsive, passionate but not hyper-sexual; I’m compassionate and empathetic but nowhere near sad and withdrawn. I’m fully engaged in my life – my marriage, my children, my career.
And I’m happy, content and at peace with the woman who fell in love with the sick guy.
Silence Shattered 