In continuing with my current ocd theme of supernatural things, I have, at my sister’s suggestion, started watching Being Human. I’m 8 episodes into season one and I like it. It’s less soap operish than The Vampire Diaries (read: less smut and banal drama) and seems like a grown up show. So one is my guilty pleasure, the other is actually viewed because I think it is well written. I’ve never watched the original British version, but it doesn’t shock me that they had a show good enough for the states to want to “copy”. British TV tends to offer slightly more quality than American TV, at times.
And why am I babbling about vampire shows in a mental illness blog?
Because I didn’t have a horrendous mental health day and don’t have much to report. I got all my housework done except folding laundry, my kid didn’t channel Satan, the weather was decent, and I only had one major anxiety episode in traffic and this time, courtesy of the right med, I didn’t have to pull off the road and hyperventilate and regroup. I was nervous, but I dealt.
So I watched Being Human all day and it got me thinking…What if vampires were real? What if I could keep the good parts of my humanity but lose all this mental illness shit by turning into a vampire? I know it’s fiction (no more so than the millions of women who sit and daydream about marrying a handsome millionaire who will treat them well and be faithful) but it’s an interesting pontification. Would you sacrifice some humanity to lose the albatross that is mental illness? To lose the weak traits of yourself that fill you with self loathing?
If I could maintain my love for my kid and cats, drink bagged blood, and contain my violent vamp urges…
But lose the bipolar, depression, seasonal affect, anxiety, and panic disorders…and all I had to do was avoid sunlight, drink blood, and sport wicked fangs…
I would totally become a vampire. To me, it would be no more of a trade off than taking medications for an illness that have the side effect of causing or worsening the illness.
So…that’s my flight of fancy for today. Nothing deep. Nothing tragic.
Just the realization that no matter how much personal change I achieve, no matter how far in life I might rise above my beginnings and current situation…I am never gonna be not bipolar.
And I would sacrifice a great many things just to be rid of that one thing. Because I am sick of how it devours my life. I am sick of the good days that lull me into a false sense of complacency, then the illness dropkicks me into another stratosphere. Sick, sick, sick.Sick of feeling like I should bow down to some mood swing deity every time I have a good mood that lasts for more than two hours.
I don’t think I’d be viewed any lesser as a vampire. I don’t think it’s possible to be viewed lower than most people view anyone with a mental illness.
Of course, it would be my luck to become a BIPOLAR VAMPIRE.
Now there’s a story premise for you.