The comfort of guilt

Bipolar is haunted with a number of emotions. Anyone who walks around carrying the diagnosis will tell you so. Any mental illness carries its own number of lingering emotions. It is after all a mood disorder of depression, anger, frustration, excitement, happiness, joy, pride...I could go on.

Even the most caring people in a person with bipolar's life can stigmatize against them without realizing it by most often associating them with the "stereotypical" bipolar emotions. Of all the emotions related to this disorder the one most overlooked is the feeling of guilt.

Growing up, and even in our adult years, we've all had things we swore we've never do. We've had dreams and goals we wished to accomplish. An idea of the person we wanted to be. But what happens when that changes? What happens when those dreams don't come true? What happens when you realize you're not the person you'd hoped to be? Today I am no where close to where I had hoped to be years ago.

Who will I be today?

For a few weeks now my shifting moods have seem to be getting the best of me, taking control leaving me at their mercy not knowing what state I will be in from one day to the next; from one morning to the evening. I question who I'll be today.

Looking in the mirror is like looking in a funhouse mirror. You know? Those mirrors that distort your face and features at carnivals and fair funhouses. It's like looking in one of those, and just the same I get a different view each time I look.

Our world is dictated by cycles. Lunar cycles. Solar cycles. Circadian rhythms, our bodies internal clocks. Our weekly and even daily schedules are cycles to which we live by. The rythms of our lives can be played like a rapid, badum badum badum beating heart.

In bipolar, especially rapid cycling bipolar 1, rhythm is everything. Cycles both define and plague this illness, with mood cycles and body cycles and external cycles all swirling around one another, intersecting here, conflicting there, and finding harmony another place.

You'd think it would be easy to recognize the early  stages of depression; especially if you've ever been depressed before. Even more so considering my depression. I can get suicidal. In those cases I do recognize it. After all, you're not dealing with the lack of insight, the allure of mania. The truth is the signs of depression are actually more difficult to pick up on reliably, possibly because they are so broad and hard to wrap your hands around.

Thank you falettinme be mice elf agin

Thank you falettinme be mice elf agin

"Thank you for the party, But I could never stay

  Many thangs is on my mind, words in the way"

"Thank you for letting me be myself again"...a number one hit in 1969 and one of the most influential funk songs of all time by Sly and the Family Stone. The title sums up the bands career from 1960 to 1970. It's was Sly's message of appreciation to anyone who could hear his voice. Sly and the Family Stone is known for being the first racially integrated band in music history, spreading their message of peace, love and social consciousness. It was Sly and the Family Stone that stepped out and were the first to fuse differing genres together such as rock, soul, pop, and jazz that was soon to become R&B and funk.

"Mama's so happy

  Mama start to cry

  Papa still singin'

  You can make it if you try"

Sly and the Family Stone band was an interracial, mixed-gender combo that burst onto the music scene in 1967. Sly was a flamboyant man, not afraid to wear gold jump-suits with large hats that dangled with tassels. I guess it can be said he literally "danced to the beat of his own drum." He wasn't afraid to be himself and he gave us much more. Thank you Sly Stone for being yourself. Because of you, we have Miles Davis, Prince, Stevie Wonder, Red Hot Chili Peppers, John Mayer, Michael Jackson, the Black Eyes Peas, and oh gosh I can't name all of them. Because you were you, we still hear you today. Wow! Sly Stone almost defines true authenticity. Unfortunately the band broke up in the late 70's after having to scrape up the funds to pay for their last show booking at Radio City Music Hall. Many things can be said of Sly, but if all is forgotten except one, it can be this, Sly refused to deny himself of whom he was and who he could be. It just wasn't in him. His music, his lyrics, his sound, his band and its composition were all extensions of who he was.

Sly wasn't without his problems or critics, such as albums being labeled as "too dark and political." He received scathing criticisms from music critics and record companies.

"Youth and truth are makin' love

  Dig it for a starter

  Dyin' young is hard to take

  Sellin' out is harder"

                                                        

I wrote of the masked face in Parkinson's the other day and how it doesn't reflect what someone is feeling on the inside. After the question "name that tune" for Thank You was posed on Facebook I got to wondering how much of an extent or how many people stop being who they are because of a diagnosis. Will I let my Parkinson's define me? Do we eventually lose sight of who we are and get lost in a diagnosis or disorder? No matter the diagnosis. Do we sell out to our diagnosis/disorder? Sometimes we nourish our disorder into our identity such as my previous struggle with an eating disorder. I'm sure we all do, but to what extent and what cost? I mean, we're in a fragile state, right? Maybe, and if so then how much? Do we then need the helping hands of another to guide us back to where we were? Wow, a lot of questions to ponder.