A Bipolar’s Slavery


Passover commemorates “the emancipation of the Israelites from slavery.” Tonight opens the “true freedom” that our ancients gained. They did not choose slavery, they were born with it. Sounds all too familiar to me.


 As an unmedicated bipolar, I know the entrapment preventing happiness. I was locked away from my true yet unfamiliar personality. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “to live happily is a true act of kindness.” Imagine, me, kind. As a recovering bipolar, I am capable of forgiveness of others, as well as, myself. Imagine that. Of course, not always, it is a constant struggle. A mountain I must climb everyday but I am better able to accomplish now that I am medicated.

I’ve been diagnosed with rapid cycling bipolar, type 1 which comes with a tremendous challenge to achieve a balanced mind. Staying true to my medication regimen keeps those mood swings under control but the side effects has chained me with a new slavery. Which are:

-an unsteady feet/gait

-being a scattered brain

-a short term forgetfulness/memory loss. Such as  leaving an important article sitting on a retailer’s counter. Not realizing I have lost the article, I was pretty lucky to find it back at the store.

-and a constant exhaustion that only sleep can bring relief. 

It’s the price that a modern day bipolar sacrifices to be a nicer person, forgiving, peaceful, and easily conformed within our pop-culture. There is an isolation that comes with change. Not leaving my house is one of them. A new enemy, if you will, a kind of Ponticus Pilate lurks in a new form of slavery. How do I to deal with the side effects of my medications, my Roman Empire? 

Somehow I must find a solution for freeing myself from the side effects of the medications and empower myself towards a new freedom. 

Happy Passover and Easter to my readers. May you find happiness from freeing your own bondage(s) having a peaceful holiday. 

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