Life is not a box of checklists

The other day, two friends in different countries and at opposite ends of the age spectrum, told me I read far too much about bipolar. I think you should be banned from Google,  said one; I stifled my screams. I guess I do, but I think it helps. And it’s not like I spend all day every day researching bipolar, I only did that for the first month (heehee). I too, said the other, wish life was a checklist. I love that!


Remission rates remained modest regardless of treatment choice for this challenging clinical condition. Source

Thing is, I can read something like that quote and it doesn’t bum me out. Partly, no doubt, it’s because bipolar people tend to respond as positively to negative stuff as positive stuff (I linked to the research somewhere in the last 200 posts on my blog, fucknose where though) and partly because ‘knowledge is power’. Lowered expectations never let you down either.

So emo.

But seriously … ‘praemonitus, praemunitus’ (pretentious!) i.e. forewarned is forearmed. As forearmed as Popeye.

*googles* um, ‘ipsa scientia potestas est’ for the previous cliché. Pretentious? Moi?!

Googlio ergo sum, innit.

In a perverted sort of a way, I am rather proud of having severe bipolar. I’m beginning to imagine a bipolar bingo card for things that worsen the prognosis. History of abuse – check, suicide attempt/s, over 15 episodes, rapid cycling, continuous cycling, psychoses, mixed episodes, family history … check check check checkitty check. In a healthier way, it all just means I know what I’m dealing with and also that I need to take it seriously. I am totally meds compliant, I go for a walk most days, I have dogs, I make sure I socialise, I try to stick to a routine and eat right. Best of all, I spend less time loathing myself.


I get a lot of support out here in the blogosphere too (thank you), which is extra cool, because I only know one bipolar person in this province and though we chat fine in passing, that’s the extent of it. She’s a pharmacist, we bonded over the hell of venlafaxine (effexor, venlor) withdrawal a few years ago.

Five months after diagnosis and I read way more novels than anything bipolar related. I’m glad my friends said that though, because I will make sure I don’t end up totally obsessive. Heh.

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