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Bipolar - Blog Posts
Characters I Headcanon have Bipolar disorder
(From the perspective of someone living with Bipolar 2)
**Disclaimer**
This is all meant to be in good fun and I’m no mental health expert; merely someone who has been through lots of therapy
Let’s Begin!
1. Rin Okumura from Blue Exorcist
I’ve always related to Rin Okumura, especially during the time I was under the mistaken diagnosis of ADD. I was surprised to learn from this that a lot of symptoms of bipolar can look like ADD/ADHD at times.
For example, Rin is shown to be someone who is easily distracted or fixated on new topics. He also tends to sleep a lot which is confirmed in the manga by the fact that this boy sleeps 12 hours every night. And finally a major factor that clued me in is how easily he is swayed by his emotions which leads him to act impulsively.
Rin’s emotions tie him to his demonic half which in turn can cause a lot of inner turmoil for him. I’m sure anyone with bipolar can relate in feeling like their change to either a manic/hypomanic state can cause them to feel like a demon and out of control. But as is shown in the series, by practicing to focus on his emotions, Rin learns to lessen and control his symptoms.
2. Gangle from The Amazing Digital Circus
I know I know, I’m lowkey pulling for stereotypes here with the tragedy and comedy masks. And on top of that this is a series with only a pilot so we hardly know anything concrete about her character. 😂
Everyone in the digital circus seems to play a role based off of their avatar given to them. As a being with two different masks, Gangle is very sensitive to the way in which she acts when her comedy mask is broken.
She tends to be very anxious and sensitive to the events that unfold around her both physically and mentally (she unravels from a mere bowling ball being thrown her way by Jax).
In some fandom interpretations of her character I’ve seen interesting depictions that also heavily give bipolar vibes like Gangle having an abstracted self tied to her ribbons or forcing on her comedy mask. I love Gangle and this pilot.
3. Captain SpaceBoy from Omori
Oh poor Captain SpaceBoy. He’s so heavily influenced by any mood swings he experiences that he seems to take on an entirely new persona whether it be SpaceBoyfriend, Space-ExBoyfriend, SpaceHusband, or Space-ExHusband.
When you first meet his character, you can clearly see he is depressed as he refuses to leave his bed and throws away any special possessions that remind him of his heart ache. Later on he even goes as far as to isolate himself on top of a snowy mountain when the heartache returns to him again..
He is also easily consumed by a rage which seems similar to a manic/hypomanic state that leads him to fight the main cast of characters. Also when it comes to his special boss battle I find it interesting how you can only defeat him by fighting him in certain states of emotion.
4. Howl Jenkins Pendragon from Howl’s Moving Castle
Howl is undeniably a drama Queen, but some of the ways in which he takes certain actions give me some bipolar vibes.
There is of course the infamous scene in which he throws a tantrum due to Sophie organizing his hair dye potions. He swings very quickly from being irritated and enraged to absolutely inconsolable and depressed. He even spends that next couple hours in bed after this scene.
Howl also tends to lead himself to danger as he appears to be in heightened states of euphoria when he pushes himself to the limit with his magic. He is also rather impulsive when it comes to the relationships he makes with others if we are going off of his book persona.
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But above all!! All these characters are shown to be good people who genuinely care about the feelings of others and try to do their best to help even when their own mental health is bringing them down.
Bipolar individuals are more than their disorder; we are all kind people ♥️
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And that’s all! Lemme know what you think :)
Imagine a magical modern world where everyones ability is to manifest their personality/mental state/subconscious into a physical thing, and scientists find that theres a pattern within manifestations that allows doctors to diagnose people with a simple examination of their manifestation.
Trigger warning
And everything im about to list off would be traits if their abilities, not the actual abilities themselves
They stack, but are as powerful as the impact they have on the user
Narcs' manifestation would probably have something to do with themselves, or having themselves as the center
DID would probs be the ability to manifest multiple small/weak/incomplete symbolic (or not) things representing their alters or a single materialization of something cracked/split (necromancer except they bring to life their alters)
Id imagine depression would involve an ability with the perk to draw people in, like a siren
Anxiety would involve something to do with an unnerving type sensation, sounds, vibrations, disruptions, the sense of slowed or sped up time
Bipolar, a changing, fast, or sudden type ability
Ptsd/cptsd would probably have a flashing, sudden, or jarring type ability
Schizophrenia would be hallucinogenic, (that one spiderman scene from homecoming with that bastard man showing spidey things that arent real), aoe tyoe ability
Ocd maybe would have something to do with controllingness, intrusive/invasive actions (the itrusive thoughts in ocd becomes the premise of what happens to who ever their using their ability against? Idk ocd that well)
Phobias - depending on the phobia, the way you'd deal with what your afraid of being your ability. Arachnophobia - your ability being pest amd spider resiliant, agoraphobia - your ability having something to do with being able to hide somewhere safe that youve made (small portable inner world? Invisibility??)
ED; makes the person feel the opposite of their disorder (if the user has binge eating issues, then their power would make others feel empty/hungry/hollow; anorexia or restrictive would be like overwhelming the sense with a feeling of fullness, stuffiness, claustrophobia; etc)
Disassociative having something to do with an incredible europhoric/dream feeling or with an incredibly grounding, kind of like "oh yea i just remembered my entire life situation and cant escape" type feeling
ADHD either has something to do with the inability to have others activate their powers, control them well, or consistantly.
Addiction/substance abuse would be kind of like the helplessness, constant incessant need for something, anxiety, etc
I have this really bad problem of constantly acting how other expect. This is currently an issue bc when I met my friends I was in a manic phase (bipolar) and am currently in a more down area. So not only do I have to overreact and be hypher around them, this bleeds over to my personal life. I'm typically a very introverted person with a few exceptions, but I have to act happy to talk to them an it so annoying! Like bro jst let me be emo :( bc my preferred style is earthy yet kind of emo, yk like therian kind of style. But I allso dress scenmo on occasion so I'm jst pretending like that's my mane style bc that's what they expect!
"The way you talk sounds like you don't respect me!"
1: I don't
2:autism
Tw: abuse
Just survived a couple hours with my abuser while casually chitchatting around family. I need to run away.
Fighting with your own mind for as basic thing as eating, is so fucked up and brutally sad.
Fucked and how. I need a vacation. Getting it. Then back to the bullshit which is my life.
Lo and Behold, the Low is here!
And so am I. Hihi.
Sigh.
REPOST THIS SO PEOPLE SEE PLEASE OR ADD MORE WEIRD PEOPLE THAT YOU KNOW ABOUT
IF THIS BASTARD TRIES TO TALK TO YOU PLEASE DONT LET HIM HES LIKE ONE OF THOSE WEIRD "COACHES/DOMS"
let's be mentally unstable without creepy mens interference please 💕
Intro....ig...heh....
lol I'm a girl and hate most guys except for my boyfriend (he looks like a girl)
I'm 16 and kinda a on and off anorexic and bulimic and I think I have bpd but I feel like a poser cuz I cant try to be diagnosed or anything
I love sh but I'm low-key so lazy about it that I don't do it that much anymore (kitty scratches 4ever😻) I hate summer cuz I cant do it now too
i will probably post body checks or if I think I look cute or something (key word *THINK*). Or I'll probably write about stuff idk
I might just kill myself if anyone I know sees this tho haha
PLEASE CAN I GET MOOTS 😖😖😖😖
PLEASEEE HELP ME
how can I tell if I have bipolar disorder
I reeeeallly think so but It feels fake because I haven't been diagnosed. I've read about symptoms and everything but idkkkk I get so unstable and then I'm fine idk what to do and I don't know if I should get diagnosed because then my mom would know and I'd have to take meds and I don't want that
Idk I like the picture
are you deranged like me?
#mentalhealth #bipolar
3.5.21
here we go again.
mundane.
yesterday was less than mundane. i had an actual panic attack, although at least not earth shattering. this goddam broken brain of mine has ruined so much, and yet it still manages to say loud and clear how much of a failure i am. why can’t it suck at that? instead of not letting me finish a book, or pushing me to do everything all the time and worry about all the possible outcomes.
i asked my therapist why i was so damn tired - (for a variety of reasons i’m sure) and we landed on “it is exhausting to try to control your thoughts and words and actions, and be mindful of what you say and do and think all day, every day”
the epiphany before that was that my body remembers the feelings of fear at a cellular level, so even when i can logic my way out of something the physical part of it is often out of my control.
other therapy gems:
manage you expectations
people show you who they are, believe them
i’m sure there are more, but i can’t think of them this morning.
mood swing- don’t feel like writing anymore. gonna go.
Scared.
I renamed this post three times... Petrified. Terrified. Frightened. Just plain scared. I am just plain scared. I am supposed to go back to work on Tuesday and I am just plain scared. I don't know that I'm ready. I know I'm not ready, who am I kidding. I can barely read a menu let alone the two hundred plus emails I have to go through and all the changes that I am sure they have made in two months since I've been out. I'm basically going back ready to fail. Ready to get fired. And guess? I don't care. Can you tell where my mood is? Yup. Still down. But I think this is what they call a mixed state- I can't keep a thought in my head, but I just don't have any energy to care. I have one more day of therapy in group to go to before Tuesday and I'm not terribly confident that I can express myself the way I want to... When I say I'm scared, I mean, I have spent the past three days with diarrhea, no appetite, and picked out three outfits to wear on that day back... No four. Changed my mind. I want the green striped sweater, my comfy sweater, to go back in... I can't seem to find a comfortable place in my own skin. My clothes irritate me, my stomach irritates me, my face irritates me, my house irritates me, even my kiddo- and i hate that the most. Everything I come I contact with bothers me in some way. I'm not ready but I don't feel like anyone is giving me a choice- even when they say they are... I don't know... Guess we just have to jump in with two feet and hope the water is deep enough that we don't break a leg...
lessons learned...
so... today i have learned the following:
-that Lamictal sucks. it takes away my high, it makes my nose stuffy and makes me eat like a pregnant heiffer... that which i am not.
-that GAK must be made with Elmers glue... seriously. it wont work with the cheap stuff.
-that homemade playdoh is a ZILLION times easier to make than Gak, and the kiddo loves it more.
-that i like my highs. i get some *winks* and go to sleep late, sleep through the night, and wake up early at 630 refreshed, and can make-coffee-unfriend-120-FB-peeps-clean-the-bedroom-unmake-the-bed-put-the-blankets-and-pillows-in-the-wash-and-dryer-feed-the-frog-surf-pinterest-for-twenty-yoga-plans-and-scrub-the-toilets all within about an hour...
but when i take that d@mn Lamictal i freakin CRASH. it was at 10 i finally took it, b/c i knew, i just KNEW it would kill my high. and it did. at 1220 i was telling kiddo to go watch some tv on the ipad and Mommee is taking a nap. i slept for a whopping 30 minutes (who can sleep with a kid in the house, alone anyway?). this is an evil drug. hate it hate it hate it. three hours later, it finally wears off - "drivers, start your engines!... and they're off!"
i come out of the fog and make s'mores for the kiddo, drag her to the grocery store, pick up the four things i need, head over to the drug store for a return, go home, mangle the Gak recipe, and make three batches of play doh stuff. and i realize i am brilliant- as i think of a zillion new yoga classes i can totally teach, invent a new seat cover for the kiddo so she doesnt burn her arse off in this heat, and plan out next years garden in our new home (which, of course, we havent actually bought yet... but i digress... ). life is good - well, except for the whole stuffy nose thing, STILL.
again -i hate the Lamictal. its worse than the Seroquel, which is going away next week (commence countdown- night 8... tonite). i cant tell if the other one, the Risperdal -i hate spelling that- if its working or if its the one that chops me down. although, i can totally pinpoint the two hour half life of the Lamictal... so im blaming it. the good doc says that the hives are a sun sensitivity from both meds, and that my aches and pains are from the highs -HA! i laugh at the thought. tooooooooo baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. i like my highs. i said that. oh well - i DO.
what else?... ... ...
OH -i dislike immensely the saying that "you should do what you dislike doing first..". only a-holes do this, i have decided. i cleaned the upstairs bathroom- like, scrub-the-doorknobs-and-lightswitches-with-a-toothbrush cleaned. i LIKE doing them - they are small, i know where everything goes, and it is DONE and i move on. even the master bedroom is okay. it is the dining room/office and living room i DESPISE. there is just NOT enough room, and too much CR@P. they are still not done. neither is the laundry to put away (not even WASH, just put away!) or the sewing (yes, i mend things... when i want to be cheap... ).
i have a brilliant idea again... i salvaged a tv stand from a front yard curb, and i am going to repurpose it as a scrap corner! whahoo!!! cant wait. it is a project for my niece and i for the summer. cant wait to pick out colors- i am thinking tiffany blue and black. love that. and i love blue, and black. this also will be in my new house, in my new office and craft room. oh - i do so love a good fantasy.
okay. rant closed.
This is called "word vomit."
I swear I had a draft from last week somewhere… Dammed if I cannot find it.
Oh we’ll. I’m not there anymore anyway, so no sense in trying to back track to then. I’m pretty sure I’m on the way down. I am home, alone, and have managed to eat four bowls of cereal (which promptly was eliminated back into the sewer… TMI sorry).
I had an awesome Friday therapy, had a nice but cold afternoon at the farmers market, Saturday morning was an okay yoga- I felt distracted but couldn’t put my finger on why. Went for an almond joy mocha at the square. Went to a consignment shop- bought a $3 necklace. That afternoon I was happy to entertain myself by working on my husbands car (side note- I’m a closet gear head). We worked on that for so long that it got too dark to work anymore and thunderstorms rolled in while we were cleaning up… Kinda romantic, caught in the rain with him… And then there was Sunday.
I was completely Up allllllll morning. I had managed to wash, cut, prep, store and set up a snack tray with all the market Fruits and vegis. I cleaned and prepped and set up a whole chicken in the crock pot (seriously thinking of going back to vegetarian after that… Ew ew ew.). I scrubbed out the fridge, rearranged all the food to fit in there, did the dishes. And then realized it wasn’t even noon yet. Managed to then prep a bunch of stuff out of my clothes for consignment (my new excuse for purging and rearranging my closet…). And then… … … The kid started to get neeeeeeeeeeeedy. My pet peeve. And when I am Up, it’s annoyance is even worse… Poor kiddo. I know it’s not her fault. It makes me grouchy and irritated… And I shouldn’t be. I should be patient. I used to be. I used to work with dozens of kids everyday, all day… Now I can barely tolerate my own child for a short period of time.
To remedy this, I went to the grocery store. Stay with me on this one. We needed milk, and chocolate milk, and I had a coupon for a free fro-yo and a $1 off my entire purchase, all expiring Sunday. And… Here’s the best part— they have FREE babysitting there. Hallelujah. Two birds- meet one stone. I dropped her off, took my walkie talkie and wandered the aisles for a good forty five minutes. And yes, I bought more than I was going to… But I needed the break. Thirty dollars later, I am a pleasant Mommee again, and excited to see the kiddo. I tease her to guess the frozen goodies I have bought. I treat her to not one, but two quarter gumball treats (she picks a bouncy ball and a ring- good girl). We skip out to the car, sing BINGO at the top of our lungs on the way home… All is right again with the world. I even fall asleep by her side after our nightly ritual of bedtime songs…
And Monday. Monday starts UP, with two capital letters. It is Memorial Day, we have a picnic, at one. I am up at 6:15. I feel like I need to take something, as a good guest I should bring food… Cupcakes are already being made by an aunt… I scour my online hoarding site - which shall remain nameless but rhymes with sin terrist… I find two recipes… I leave my awake little one with my still unconscious husband and again, head to the store — this time I get out with only $12 of exactly what I needed. I proceed to make over fifty strawberry-short-stacks and banana-splits on a stick…. Pics to come. All before we leave at 1230. Yeah. UP. When there, I chat nicely- not abiding to the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, skirting around the work questions, the how are you’s and the quizzical looks when I pause, mid-sentence to try to remember what I was just saying. Eventually, I fall into a good stride of —“shhhh…. Wait…. Listen to her talk…. Nod…. Wait…. Ask a question… Listen…. Don’t talk over her… Wait….” And repeat ad nauseam… I carry a beer, pour out a few micro inches each time I walk around the side of the house when no one is following me. It is a brilliant cover. This is tedious work I find. Pretending.
It must have gotten into my psyche. That night I sleep like a brick- so hard that my husband doesn’t even wake me at 615, or 700… He leaves at 745 and kisses me “it’s almost eight, just so you know…” His sweet way of saying get your ass outta bed… We are now late. After falling up the stairs, I slept on my right wrist wrong overnight, it throbs. Wearing my brace now we are even more disadvantaged to get to school and therapy on time. She is one hour late, “Class Junior Kindergarten- time 902- reason - just late.” I am only a half hour late to therapy today… I can already feel the need to slink in, under the radar, to ready myself for the inevitable “your turn”… I’m just not feelin it today.
And somewhere, sitting in there, listening to another person whine (my apologies, it is no one I know in the Real World and will certainly not invite to read this blog…)… Her depression is contagious. The day floats away. Apparently I called my mother, told her to pick up the kiddo today… I meant tomorrow. My mother in law calls, twice, then texts “I am here to get the kiddo, your mom already did” … My irritation is here again. I text a brief I WILL GET HER without care for hurt feelings. Then… I cry. Short, small, hot tears, but not chest heaving, sobbing. Just cry. And I feel like I need a nap, but I’m too irritated to sleep…how is that even possible? I try to read my Bipolar book… It irritates me. My stomach is irritated too, oh hooray. What is this feeling? Is is the Crash? No, not really. The Crash makes me thoughtless, motionless, powerless. Here, I am still creative, wanting to write more of my word vomit- the words that come to me in waves, unfiltered, almost regurgitated onto page. I am still thinking of things I should be doing, still understanding that I have to keep my nice clothes on to play the Good Mommee to go get my kiddo. This is not the Crash… it may be a Down. Apparently, there is such a thing, halfway between Up and Crash. Is this a sign that the medication is actually working? Or that it is not? I can’t read my book to know to find out… Right now, I am still irritated. Later, I will go to get the kiddo… Now… I will just write…
Welcome to my sweet upside down world
There is a saying in yoga practice when doing inversion asanas (upside down poses): inversions help you to see your world upside down in practice so you know how to deal better with upside down moments in life.
Let’s just say that I’ve been doing a lot of inversions lately.
Hello, I am the self-titled Bipolar Baker… And welcome to my sweet upside down word.
I was only recently diagnosed, as of May 9th, 2013… Not even a week now. And yet, it feels like I have lived with this disease all my life. I’m already comfortable with its company. My official diagnosis is Bipolar I, rapid cycling, with mixed mania, and Anxiety Disorder. Sounds like fun, right? Actually, it is quite fun…
When I’m in my mania, I am a hoot! I am the social butterfly, the Carrie in the city, the instant best friend you just met. I am super over productive: writing a 1,450 word paper for school in three hours- in APA format, with citations and five references, without an outline; baking 48 cupcakes from scratch, with homemade raspberry soufflé icing, individually wrapped in lace and prepped for the bridal shower that is less than ten hours away which I then co-host with flair (constantly having to remind myself, of course, that I am NOT the center of attention for the next two hours… A difficult feat for me). I am the organizer of clothes into color coordinated rows by type from left to right, separated by specific hangers into three sections- pants, tops, and dresses/skirts, even coordinating my underthings in their drawers by color.
Color rules my world most days. I get caught up in feeling the deep, cellular green of the late spring-leaves inside my head. I watch the wispy feather white clouds drift in slow motion across the infinite Carolina blue sky. I study the amber and coal and hematite hairs on my dog’s coat as he lays beside me, head on my thigh. I see colors as moods, and as auras. It is my gift and my burden as an empath, only adding to the complexity of my mind. In my mania I see starbursts of yellow and honey gold following little children, chasing their worries away… Luckily, the downs don’t stay as long… “The Crash” I have named it… The free fall after the mania. It is quick and steady: a ride down the steep side of the roller coaster, G-forces pulling at my heart, then a quick upturn to baseline, stomach churning, to wait for another incline, steady again climbing up up up. On grey days baking and my yoga pull me up. I have never found baking difficult, which is how I know it is my “out” when I have crashed. It is the one sweet thing I can lose my mind in, both figuratively and literally. My yoga practice I revel in… Morning yoga to invigorate, day yoga to stay motivated, evening yoga to be thoughtful, and night yoga to burn off the stored energy that wasn’t released in the day. Usually the night yoga involves the inversions- head stands, bridge pose, arm stands, wheel pose… Feet high above my heart to remind me: be grounded in the air, let that which is real rise above your wounded heart, and let your heart rise above your head.
Again, this is simply the walkway, the entry to my world. I hope you can join me for a few, or maybe just one spin... Either way, I hope it's a sweet ride.
I lost an uncle due to suicide because of his bipolar disorder, my family couldn’t accept his mental health issues and now I’m living the same.
Always enjoy, appreciate and give back everything you get from family love.
Here’s a little bit of a story I want to tell to raise mental health awareness. I grew up in Poland. I was always told my uncle died from a heart attack. I never got to meet him. When I was older, I learned that he committed suicide 5 years before I was born. He suffered with schizophrenia. The mental health system in Poland in the 70-80s was more than just incompetent. They did nothing for my uncle other than make him the laughing stock of the small village we lived in. My family stopped talking to him. He was considered the disgrace of the family that only caused problems. He didn’t get the help he needed. And he was driven to suicide. This summer was the first time I visited his grave. Shortly after I dug up this picture. All I could do is cry. The boy on the left is my uncle, the one in the middle is my father, and on the far right my grandmother. My uncle was a good man. And he’s still rarely spoke of in parts of my family. Even though I never met him, I feel like that chance was taken from me. Please, make sure your family members that suffer from mental illness get the help they need. Spread awareness that ignoring a problem can bring. Please, help me honor my uncle. I wish he was still around to smile like he did in this picture.
2 Siblings One Disease
My little brother and I have both, at different times and for different breakdowns, been diagnosed with manic depression.
There are many different types of manic depression, and like most of the mental health diagnoses you hear about often/are sensationalized by the media, the crossover for diagnostics can be huge.
I went home to visit my mom briefly last week, and out of the blue, she turns to me and asks, “Do you think your brother has autism?”
And I felt myself dissociate almost instantly, because I’d wondered the same thing about myself many times, and here my mother was, casually asking the same thing of my brother.
My brother’s been in and out of serious trouble his whole life - terrible movie about mental health type trouble - like drugs, gang activity, shoot-outs, the law. I, on the other hand, hold a high-level management job at just 24. Though my outbursts are certainly significant, they occur in containment. There’s only two and a half years between us, but at times that feels like an ocean.
He’s moved across the country now, and we hardly talk. And I can’t help but be jealous. For me, being “bipolar” is a trap both mentally and physically; I’m tethered to my disease in my mind and tethered to the burden of my Normal Face in the real world, both of which have kept me from doing what I want in my life.
In other ways, I’m grateful that I was able to keep my disease from multiplying into thousands of demons, millions of extra pounds to carry around as his did.
I made a game! It’s a text-based adventure about living with mental illness. I pulled a marathon coding session yesterday and ported it to javascript, so it’s now you can play it in a browser without having to install anything. Yay!
As the subject matter might suggest, it’s a little on the dark side. Writing it was an emotional but very rewarding experience. Self-expression through code!
Let me know what you think!
* I am a working in progress. *
- © bipolar2baddie -
On days like today, when I wake up exhausted and hopeless, I have to remind my self that self care is warranted. Guilt-free. I am careful with how I spend my energy so that there is hope for a more peaceful tomorrow.
The average life expectancy Of a person with bipolar Is 67 years. I gotta get things moving Since I'm already running out of Time. If my life ends early, I have to make sure It was all worth living.
being reminded again that my love is always deeper and more intense than anyone else’s love for me ever will be
My husband is ill and there's nothing more I can do for him, so my mania is taking over. I've done the quiet clean ups and retried making banana nut bread with this recipe. The first time I made it I had a dumb and forgot flour... you know, the main ingredient in bread. I need more hobbies that keep my hands busy because when I run out of chores, my manic episode worsens, and I feel as though I want to crawl out of my skin and scream.
Bipolar really is something.
