Bipolar Awareness Day
Apparently yesterday was some sort of bipolar disorder awareness day. I was pretty busy with a full day of scheduled existential crisis about mortality to notice.
All I've got to say is that we're fucking human, and you can get hyperfucked if you're still writing us like we're magic weirdos with intense mood swings. Especially if it's for a dumb meme, that dangerous misinformation will spread for years.
We're human. I'd love to have a conversation about what depression or hypomania feels like if you're curious, but all you alls simply must stop spreading medical misinformation first.
From the comments
James Petrosky: This sounds like a very specific call out. If is not. I didn't see any of my friends posting stuff like this. I did see lots of stuff like this in groups some of you frequent, though, and that's more than a little bit suspect
James Petrosky: bout me, though, and my mental health.
I don't talk about depression so much anymore. I still experience it, am still medicated and still speak to someone regularly about it. From a medical and quality of life point of view, I absolutely still experience it. But philosophically, is it still disordered if it's about an extremely real thing? Is it still depression when you are surrounded by proof of your impending mortality? Of the failure of all treatment options to accomplish anything beyond the bare minimum?
I don't know, and if you want to have a conversation about it you can find me at a bar outside the University of Waterloo most Wednesdays 2006-2009, because that's the time in my life for such discussions. Today whether it is or isn't depression doesn't matter (and I really mean that, I'm not looking for validation either), today is one of my extremely finite days, and I should make something of it regardless how I feel (although what is dependent on how pretty strongly).
James Petrosky: I've had some hypomania this treatment cycle. It's weird feeling so motivated to do things, and having the feeling of having energy, only to have it all come crashing down when the reality of a body ravaged by months of chemo becomes unavoidable. I still spent a week not sleeping, with a mind that wouldn't stop (only about 25% thoughts of death, so could be worse). Hypomania is only good in fiction, although it can be briefly enjoyable.