Squint Harder

Do you wear glasses?

Or know someone who does?

Congratulations, you know someone who requires medical aid to see the world in the same way as the majority of the population!

Now, as a glasses wearer, you probably get asked what it’s like to live without them.

They want to know what it’s like.

“Can you see without these?”

“Can you get through the day without relying on them?”

And the answer is maybe? I guess? I could close one eye and squint real hard and hope I don’t walk into something or miss a detail or make a mistake.

But even if I avoid these issues, it hurts my head
and people look at me funny and

so… no? I don’t think so?

Why would I avoid this certified, professionally supplied solution that lets me get by in my own way?

And people laugh and shake their heads and say they understand and how weird it’d be to make people who need glasses to get by to not wear glasses.

So my question is this – is there a way to make it clear to the world that this is also the same with professionally supervised therapy and medication?

After all, these too change how you see the world.

Friday Night

There’s something to be said for making plans about nothing.

I mean, to do nothing major.

To spend time for the sake of spending time. Without agenda or outcome.

Is it weird to spend Friday night at home, making food for yourself and then eating it yourself?

No.

Do people try to call you out on it? Or poke fun at you for being antisocial or boring?

Yes.

And they can get fucked.

With bipolar, a nothing night is helpful. It gives me the chance to operate free of goals – to do things just for me.

The actions and the outcome are the same. There are no disappointments. No goals to reach. The pressure is off and I can see which parts of my feels are appropriate to my circumstances and which ones are coming from being hyper or down.

It’s like a mini diagnosis or therapy session for myself. But all it costs is a bowl of pasta and a Netflix subscription.

Not A Real Doctor

A friend is suffering through a bad bout of depression. And something hits me – I’ve never really experienced it from this side before and I’m a really shit therapist.

I’m trying to remain present, and fix what I can, but:

  • Every cool or interesting thing I show them gets shot down
  • Offers of food/drinks get criticised
  • Every conversation turns to how shit their life is

And you know what? I got resentful.

Like, how dare they demean me like that? Why can’t they see how excellent they are? And can’t they see how their baggage is bringing me down too?

NO. STOP IT.

I haven’t been able to see the water I’m swimming in. Individually, people can be nice and kind and generous and wonderful. Collectively, we’re as thick as wooden planks. Society says to focus on the me, making me better – and so I focus on it to the exclusion of other people’s plights.

Well, I call bullshit. I can see from my time with this person that it’s really, stupidly hard to help people with depression, simply by the given nature of the disease.

They can’t accept help, can’t ask for it, can’t get out of bed in the morning. I have written about all this before, and I thought I understood it thoroughly. But now I have a massive appreciation for everyone who has ever lent me an ear when I’m venting, or traveled with me to the doctors because I’m too unstable to drive.

And I can see now that there’s so much more room for me to improve. Management isn’t about having a destination – I will never be “cured” – it’s about building myself up day by day to be better. I know this – but it applies to everyone else as well. And I think I lost sight of that somewhere along the way.

So thank you, traveling partner. Thank you for showing me that I don’t have all the answers, that I could stand to be more sympathetic and understanding. And for understanding why I slipped up.

I’m not a doctor, not even at all.

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