Mariya Ali

As today is International Bipolar Day, I thought it would be a great opportunity to talk about my own journey living with Bipolar and where I currently am.

My mood is stable, sleep is relatively routine and healthy and for the most part, I’m in a good place.  So rather than have a heavy post about my experience with bipolar, I thought I would write a more light hearted post about the misconceptions I’ve encountered over the years.

1. No, I’m not going to throw a hissy fit and then call the police on you, making up a myriad of fake accusations and getting you arrested.
2. I don’t want to kill myself all the time.
3. I don’t want to kill other people, ever.
4. Being bipolar doesn’t mean that I can’t make up my mind. That’s called being indecisive.
5. Being bipolar also doesn’t mean that I change my mind quickly.
6. Bipolar isn’t contagious.
7. I don’t have hallucinations.
8. Every time I cry it doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m depressed. I could just be sad…you know, like “normal” people.
9. At the same time, I know when I’m depressed. That doesn’t mean that I’m sad and exaggerating.
10. There’s no cure, but I’m fine. So please don’t feel sorry for me.

Have you ever had those moments when someone tells you that you did or said something and you have no recollection of ever doing or saying it?

So you question it.

“I didn’t really say that”.

“No. You definitely did. I remember.”

“I think you may have misunderstood me”.

“No. You were pretty clear”.

Is your memory playing a cruel joke on you?

Or is someone else playing a cruel joke on you?

Is it weird that I have days of my life that are blanked out.

Vast expanses of empty time.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

I don’t know if it’s “normal” or it just an added quirk of me and who I am and why I am.

If I don’t remember it, then maybe it didn’t actually happen.

Maybe I’m not remembering something that never really happened.

I feel like I no longer have a point to this post.

Or maybe I just forgot what it was.

Seems likely.

Fatigue permeates my body and mind, despite an over saturation of sleep.  Broken sleep, but that is the story of my life.  And so in this sleep-deprived state, I shall allow my fingers to type the random thoughts that overtake my mind.

If I could have a superpower, it would be to be able to control minds.  Professor X, if you may.

If I could change one thing about myself, I don’t know what I would change.  I have learned to accept myself and love myself the way I am.  The nuances of my shortcomings make me unique. My imperfections are perfect, I suppose.

I’m lucky to have the friends that I have.  A perfect circle of friends, all with our hands linked, more a loving family than friends.

What’s better, mango ice cream or mango kulfi?  I think it depends on your mood.  Most importantly, it has to be fresh.  Pulp just doesn’t cut it.

I love people who are full of surprises.  I wonder whether it would be better to be with someone who I can’t understand, how interesting would that make life?  But in the past, these have been the people who have hurt me the most.  So perhaps, maybe, not so much.

I love to sleep.  I also love to do nothing, from time to time.  People who are always on the go and don’t like down time annoy me.  How do they recoup?

I’d love to be a bridesmaid at an English wedding.  I really want to wear an ugly bridesmaid dress.

“The Heat” is one of the funniest movies I have ever seen.  There is also no upper limit to the number of times I can watch “Home Alone”.

I love me some nerd.

Every once in a while, everyone needs a duvet day.

Redesigning interiors is fun.

I miss my grandmother a lot.  Life is dull without her.

I also regret losing some of the friendships I have in the past.

Maybe I should try and be a little more patient? I should put some thought into this when I’m able to cognitively function better.

There is nothing worse than running out of battery at masjid.

Who invented ridas?  A man? Straight after he just had a huge fight with his wife?  It’s just nonsensical.

I still would love to adopt.

And….that’s about it.  I’m going to go and take a nap.

Sleep evades me, so I shall do the only thing that gives me comfort these days: Write. Perhaps this is unwise, sharing my thoughts and feelings in the vulnerable state that sleep deprivation causes. That grey area between being awake and asleep. The broken barriers and poor judgement that ensues. Perhaps it’s unwise to share my innermost thoughts with the world at large, but I have decided to be unashamedly, un-apologetically, authentically me.  Warts and all.

It’s a bad place, the place that I am in.  A vortex of darkness, a black hole that seems to crush every particle of light that comes within close proximity.  A strong gravity that only attracts negativity.  My mind is inundated with regrets, sadness, what-ifs, remorse.  It doesn’t seem to matter how hard I try to break through with positivity, a strong force crushes it and obliterates it into vapour that dissipates into the all consuming, all encompassing darkness.

And so I wonder, how long will this one last?  Will it be gone in the morning?  Will this seemingly endless torture last a few days?  How long will my next respite be?  How many more times do I have to go through this cycle?  Wash, rinse, repeat, until the end of time.

And now, I feel nothing.  Numbness.  Or perhaps it is something, my brain is too foggy and my eyes too heavy to analyse it any further.  “This too shall pass”, I assure myself.  And it shall. But then, it shall return.

I knew tonight would be hard.  I was hoping that I would sleep through the night, avoiding those perilous-sleep-deprived late hours of the night/early hours of the morning.  The hours where fatigue weakens me and I balance precariously on the edge of sanity, where the slightest push can be the catalyst that sends me catapulting over the edge.  The hours where there is no activity, nothing to divert my attention and occupy as much of my brain as I can, to minimise this evil force.  But I have a sadistic enjoyment of this state.  A want to go further and deeper.  A need to feel pain.  The type of enjoyment a child gets from poking a bruise.  Perhaps it is me punishing myself for the perceived transgressions that my mind is torturing me with.  I call this threshold “the point of no return”.   Once here, there is no going back.  Grit your teeth, hold on, brace yourself and survive the ride.

And so there it is, a brief insight into my mind.  It’s not pretty, is it?

And so here I am, months later. I feel lost, as if I’m wondering in the woods, in a slightly confused daze. Bare foot and completely oblivious to where to go and what to do next.

I spend hours soul searching nowadays. I try to figure out what I want to do and how I want to move forward and then I realise that I just don’t want to. I just don’t want to plan what to do next. History has taught me that planning doesn’t seem to work out for me. Envisioning my future sets me up for disappointment. So this time, I’d rather just blindly stroll through the woods. Perhaps this way, I’ll stumble upon my path, because attempting to carve it doesn’t seem to be my forte.

So what’s been going on the past few months? Well, a little this and a little that. A roller coaster of emotions, as is the story of my life, but a particularly topsy-turvy, loopy (no pun intended), up and down roller coaster ride. Perhaps one where you sit down after a dodgy kebab as well, just to liven up the experience. I’m single. I’m not alone, I’m not lonely and I’m not desperate. I’m content going to bed with an abundance of unnecessary pillows surrounding me and waking up spreadeagled across the double bed, just because I can. A lot of quality family time, bonding with family across the pond and attempt to get some sort of routine. Yet something is missing, and through the fog in the woods, I can’t quite see what it is.