No matter how many times Jordan tried to explain to her friends what it felt like to live with bipolar disorder, they just didn’t get it.
“That just sounds like being moody,” Kelsey said. “Everybody gets like that.
Jordan could see how much her friend was trying to understand. She just couldn’t conceptualize how bad it got. “You’re wrong,” she said, but then, getting an idea, added, “But maybe you’re a little bit right.”
“Huh?”
“Well, you know what it’s like when you wake up feeling really good about yourself and you’re dancing around in your room while you get dressed?”
“Yeah,” Kelly answered, looking like she had no idea where this was going.
“And you know how you sometimes just crash for no reason and feel bad about yourself, and the rest of your day ends up crappy?”
“Well, yeah. Again, that happens to everyone.”
“Right. But if you had bipolar, you’d have to multiply both of those by about five hundred. And then make the happy part a little longer and the miserable part a whole lot longer.”
“Oh,” Kelsey said. Then her eyebrows creased, and her forehead wrinkled. “Oh…”
Jordan saw the exact moment the penny dropped. She nodded her head, her mouth slanting at an I told you so angle. “Yes. Oh! It’s like the difference between a match and a raging forest fire.”
“Or,” Kelly answered, showing just how well she now understood, “like the difference between a summer shower and a hurricane in your brain.”
This story was inspired by the image. I was creating personified natural phenomena and I thought this picture showed what my brain has sometimes felt like during the worst bouts of bipolar disorder. Thankfully, it hasn’t been this bad since starting TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation) a few years ago.
My mother lived her life depression-free. She struggled to understand what I went through. That didn’t stop her from supporting me in every way she knew how once she understood that I was ill. That didn’t happen until I was an adult, married, a physician, and had children of my own. Better late than never!
I started being open about my diagnosis as I treated patients with mental illness. If destigmatization didn’t start with me, where would it start? I think attitudes are shifting, though there’s still a long way to go. I hope this story will help a few more people understand.
I’m working toward trying to support myself through my creative endeavors. You could help by either taking out a paid subscription (As always, I understand that not everyone can or wants to do so.) or by purchasing one of my designs through my Redbubble shop. Links below for both! 👇
Good story, Dascha! May the TMS continue to be a benefit to you.
Thank you for opening the door to understanding. I am grateful for your openness and I honour your honesty, my beautiful friend 💕