I'm going to pick a fight

Each one of us is a unique and unrepeatable miracle of God's grace. My wife is a miracle to me. My children are miracles.

But I do not always feel like an unrepeatable miracle of God's grace. Unique yes. Much of the time I feel alone in this world. But more often I behave as though God puts up with me because He made me and now He is stuck with me.

Logically I know this is false, but deep, and sometimes not so deep, inside it nags and gnaws at my heart, at the security and love I feel from not only others but also about myself. It creeps into my prayers, into my thoughts, into how I love and relate to her, to them, to me.

Bipolar disorder is one of the most elusive illnesses we know of. The lives of those who live with are written like a bestselling mystery novels. The beginning opens in the middle of nowhere and every page is a twist and turn full of surprises never knowing what is going to happen next.

Recognizing our thoughts are awry and our judgment is impaired is a risky business for anyone dealing with a mental illness. It all seems so sensible in our delusional state. We need to come to the conclusion there is an impairment in our functioning that prevents us from living life normally. Then again I hate that word, "normal." Who says what is normal?

Powerlessness = Choice

I met a man recently who is a lot like me. I don't want to be like this man.

Psychiatric hospitals are places you will always meet characters. Some you forget; some stick out.

I'm bipolar and 37, but look no older than 25. He is also bipolar, but 45 and looks no younger than 65. We are a lot alike. Both have succumbed to our manic states. Both experience disabling depressions. Both have lived years of abusing alcohol and drugs with bouts of binges. Both have ruined ourselves financially. Both have divorced. Both have alienated friends and family in the past. Both have been in trouble with the law. Both have received undeserving grace. Except.....