Sunday, February 5, 2012
When I think about it I guess we're all bound by something, but there are times I want to go back to the days before I was diagnosed with bipolar. I want to be free of the label. I want to just be me.
I want the carefree times of not having to count out meds, of not having to make it to psychiatrist appointments. I want the freedom to be what I thought was me, impulsive, daring, and outgoing.
Most of the time I felt I could conquer the world. I felt so good I knew if I had been younger I could have done back flips. I liked the adventure and the ever changing scenery of my life.
My psychiatrist would call those times "hypomania," and they came with a price. They came with the price of being chained to deep bouts of depression. They came with relationship problems. They came with bonds of the lure of self harm, of destruction.
Today, even though sometimes I wish I was in the days before the term bipolar entered my life, I realize I truly am free. I'm free of the bondage caused by the carefree times, the impulsive times, the throw caution to the wind times. I'm free of the depression that consumed me at times, that kept me in bed and away from the people I love.
I'm free to make my own decisions, not ones marred by an emotional roller coaster. I'm free to enjoy my life without damaging others or myself. I'm free in knowing my demons have a name and I'm free to conquer them.
Now I am free. Truly free.