*TW* Bipolar and creativity

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDAL TALKS

Hello everyone,

I decided to create an account today as I thought it might be a good idea to chat to other people who experience reality in a similar way to me.

How old were you when you first started being/feeling odd? How many of you have a regular diagnosis and are on medication, and of those--how many agree that being on medication is definitely better?

I'm currently almost 27 years old. I first noticed that I was a lot different than my mates at the age of 13. This feeling of being different (sometimes inferior, sometimes better, sometimes just different in an indescribable way) grew stronger as the years passed. At first I could not understand why I felt that way but there was always this need to be alone, to do things on my own, to simply day dream the months away, to do crazy things, to be destructive, to drink a lot, and so on. While some of that could be viewed as a stereotypical teenage behaviour, I am certain mine was different. It was not the thrill of experimenting or trying new things. In fact, I always hated this, I always felt like all of these things are for losers, for kids. I felt mature in my heart. I just wanted to fly, to do dangerous things because they made me feel alive in a way and let me forget the void that I always felt in my chest.

I developed what I can only describe as severe anxiety and social paranoia. I felt sick around people and this feeling grew stronger each day. I only ever wanted to be alone in my head. The funny part is that there is nothing in my head but days of staring into a wall doing nothing. Almost as if waiting for my life to roll and go away. I have always had a fascination for art and detail, for peculiarities, for extravagance, and for science. Another interesting paradox is that whenever people perceive me as evil I see myself as a victim, and when I perceive myself as evil in any situation people would say I am an angel. Anyone else? This somewhat perplexed me throughout the years.

I studied Psychology and Mental health at university (the irony!) because I wanted to understand myself. People always view psychologists as humanitarian but I personally opted for psychology for very selfish reasons--I was only ever interested in my own sanity. My work experience later on was very boring and I didn't enjoy it. I never related to people with mental disease. Right now I kinda see how it may be because of my ongoing feeling of superiority. I have isolated myself the past two years completely. Not working, not doing anything. Just writing and living in my own world, where all is awkwardly arranged and connected. I get manic about twice a year. The rest is depression or apathy.

When I am manic it feels like the realest thing ever. Like touching a higher Truth, the real Me, absolute freedom from this grey world. I never want it to stop. It's a natural drug. I also get excited a lot about religion, philosophy, and God. I feel like a God when I'm high and at that moment it's like all my previous convictions that I'm different are justified. It's like God says to me "Yes, you are".

I'm scared that I'm wasting my life but then I also tend to think that life can't be wasted because it's already meaningless. When I look back I see how I was going well, I graduated from a very prestigious university, I had a few good jobs, I was doing well on my own. Now, I rely on my parent for money, though I live alone. I am hopeless, tired, and sometimes I want to die. I have attempted suicide once when I was 16 and thought about it many times thereafter. The only thing that stops me from killing myself is a very deep belief in my mind that if I do it, the pain won't go away. It may even get worse because I won't have a body and an anchor to life. I don't know why I believe in that so firmly. Sometimes I also hate myself for not having the guts to kill myself. When people praise themselves for overcoming depression I tend to think "###$ that, I am too useless to even kill myself". Anyone else?

I have always tended to have small social circles with only a bunch of mates. Now, as you may have guessed already, I have none. I have successfully cut ties with all of my friends so that I can enjoy the void all to myself. I can't be bothered to even ask anyone how they do because all I hear is stories about getting married or having kids, or going to work, or paying the bills, or how their parent got ill, and so on. As far as I can remember, I have always always always felt that these kind of conversations are useless. The worst is that when I am depressed I lose interest even in the things I love, like art, and philosophy. I fear that I am a self-centered maniac and that's about it. Sometimes I just want to feel something, to cry, but nothing comes out.

Am I a monster or what?

Please comment below and tell me whether you find your reflection in my tragedy. Feel free to simply share your story or to tell me that sharing this was altogether pointless. I appreciate it.

I can totally relate to that. Maybe I am you or you are me? (Just a joke... or not? )

I am almost 27 too. Began feeling awfully socially awkward at 13 (too) when I moved to another school and the bullying started.

I have then developed a misanthropic feeling for the world that I struggle with until today. In my teens I also developed some weird sexual preferences (paraphilias actually) but I won't delve into that for obvious reasons. I will just state that it has to do with my misanthropic feeling for the world, probably. Buddhism has helped me deal with that misanthropy recently.

I have started several university graduations and never finished any (including a Psychology bachelor's degree), never have worked etc. To sum it up, in society's vision I am a failure. At almost 27 I should have done much more.

In my vision, consumer economy and consumer society suck. Relying on material goals makes us unhappy and takes us nowhere. That's my nonmaterialist philosophy going through my pores. I can't help it, sorry.

I have attempted "suicide" once too. Despite not really wanting to die at the bottom of my heart I almost did die in fact... I also believe suicide takes us nowhere. I may commit suicide one day due to desperation, but knowing that it will probably take me to the wheel of life again and again.

I don't consider myself a "happy" person, but I try to say everything I must say to everyone before it's too late. I don't want to die not saying "I love you" to my mother when I feel the need to, nor I want her to die without hearing me say "I love you" when she needs me to. I don't know if I expressed myself very well. I try to live the present moment.

There's more to say, but I guess I'll stop before it gets too long and too random. Feel free to say or ask anything if you wish.