I often think about the good ol’ days when I lived with major depressive disorder (MDD/depression) instead of bipolar disorder. Last week, I spoke about grieving over the person I lost a couple years ago, which you can read here. It feels like breaking up with my ex sometimes; the hurt and pain doesn’t just fade away. After all, I lived with depression for almost 8 years. I managed without medications and relied solely on counselling and therapy. I’ve only lived with bipolar disorder for a couple years, and now I frequently see doctors and regularly take medications that often change with the season. I also have fancier appointments like brain imaging scans and bloodwork and such.
The greatest distinction I’ve noticed between living with depression and bipolar disorder is that I find moments where I’m afraid of myself and my mind. In those moments, I grieve.
I grieve the control I’ve lost over my mind
and ability to make decisions
and remember faces
I wasn’t fearful of my mind with depression. I never lost touch with reality either and or acted impulsively while I was living momentarily in this other time and space with this other person. It sounds all so bleak and grave. Admittedly, sometimes it is when I have months and months of crappiness but it isn’t always so bad. It’s just different now and I’m adjusting to that change; when something is suddenly gone and you’re forced to ebb and flow with it. That’s what the grieving process is about, right? I’m really reaching to convince myself this right now. It’s been crappy for like… 5 months now. But whatever… that’s the foundation of hope and faith.