Who Are We?

It has been a while since I have written. It would be quite a bit easier if someone was here to read my rants. I have progressed a lot in my illness. My mental illness… silence. The over-diagnosed, over-medicated, mysterious mental illness named Bi-Polar Disorder. I do not know why they have changed the name from Manic Depression to Bi-polar Disorder. It seems pretty stupid to me. It is the same illness. My Grandfather was a Manic Depressive. I am a Bi-Polar Disorders persons of some sort, either classified as Bi-Polar 1 or Bi-Polar 2. I really think they are blowing this not only out of proportion but also out of their asses. Yes, I am talking about doctors, and their ring masters, the pharmaceutical companies. Coming soon – Bi-Polar Disorder 3! Featured in a mental institution near you!

Depression is a oh-so-scary word. Lets make it happy, shall we? Bi-Polar Disorder, feel how it just slides of the tongue? I do not see the point of changing the name of a illness that remains unchanged. Either way, you will be prescribed a drug, which may or may not work. Pretty, candy-like pills. Speaking of which, when did it become legal to advertise prescription drugs via television? Not only do you have your doctor selling you a drug, but now you have the pharmaceuticals telling you which drugs your doctor should be selling you. Me spies a pattern. Don’t mistake me, I have been through my fair share. Fifteen years of searching for help in the pill pushing community. You cannot deny, some of them work. However, most of them do not. For me, I have found that the two medications that I am using, were never intended to treat my illness, but they actually do. How funny is that?

I am struggling with what this blog is destined to be. I am writing this honestly. I do not want to hold back anything that I write. The writing process can show the mood, and this illness is all about changing moods. Changing moods, and deep suffering. How can you truly know who you are when you can change so rapidly? What happens when you take someone with this illness, and add a dash of PTSD, a shake of personal trauma, a pinch of the death of a loved one? We change. We are a unique breed of humans. The difference between having this illness and being told that you have this illness is one factor alone. In your heart you will know. It will not be a excuse for your behavior, it is your behavior. It will not be a excuse for your actions, they are your actions. You will know you in a deep way, a way that others cannot. We are sick, are we not?

What happens if we are just humanity evolving? What does it mean if we are the new creation of the universal brain? We care more, we suffer more, we are confused more. What can happen if we stop defining ourselves to what others are? What if we believe that “we”, all of us with this bitch of a “illness”, may be the beginning of a new human understanding?

Are we the fore-leaders to compassion and thought? Are we the descendant of the first man to stop and weep for the lost kitten, for the child left behind, for the man that died blindly, for the woman who gave her soul to the devil? How many people do you know that actually care? I do. This illness will force you too. That is the key. Maybe it is not us, maybe it is the world. The world is large and unified. Take your drugs so that you can be “normal”. What the fuck is great about being normal? Look to your average high school, look to your average working class man or woman. This is normal? I bypass the medication that makes me like anyone else. I take the medication that allows me to survive. We can do this, all together. We do not have to be “sick”. We are as much Bi-Polar as we are Disorder.

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