I'm not sure who needs to hear this but I've been living with bipolar disorder for, well, as long as you've known me. Here's a thread on what that means. You can read it. If it resonates, I encourage you to share it.

Even if we're close, you might not know this about me. I'm sorry. Some of you might be very "lol, yeah that tracks" right now and I'm okay with that. I just don't really talk about it because there's a bit of a stigma — and I'm tired of defining myself by it, if even just a bit.

The thing about telling people is that most of the things that people know about it come from watching someone on TV or in pop culture have a dramatic episode — think Ian from "Shameless" or Kanye or the sister from Midsommar (an especially heinous example).

This means that to suffer from bipolar disorder is to have two choices: I can either accept that some of the people in my life think I'm simply an unreliable piece of shit for no reason, or I can tell them about my mental illness and not have *any* idea what they think about me.

This means that to suffer from bipolar disorder is to have two choices: I can either accept that some of the people in my life think I'm simply an unreliable piece of shit for no reason, or I can tell them about my mental illness and not have *any* idea what they think about me.

That's ... terrifying. Especially in a professional setting. Hell, whether I'm right or wrong I am SURE right now that at least one person reading this thinks less of me for it. And that's fine. At least I probably don't owe them work (and all the better I likely never will!)

I'm also sure that there are people out there thinking I'm making some sort of mistake by doing this but like ... if that's you, you see how you're part of the problem right? I acknowledge that you care about me, but that's not how I want you to do it. Stick up for me.

Besides, this isn't the first or last thing I will tweet that will disengender my future employability. In a better world, it wouldn't, but such is life. If you wouldn't hire a bipolar person then fuck you, too. It might have taken 6 years but I got my degree.

In fact, I've only ever told one boss about this, after weeks of bad work & absenteeism. I knew they'd support me 100%, and they did, and yet it was one of the scariest things I've ever done. Much love to Twitter, for I don't have to do this face-to-face #socialdistancing lol

As for this, even as I write it I can't tell if I'm writing it for you or for me. I'm not sure what would be worse, having absolutely nobody see it, or having it blow up (obv not likely but still) and having to field nasty tweets or explain it in even greater detail to strangers.

Even worse than that would be people I know reading it and worrying about me/treating me differently/whatever. Too often when I talk about it my interactions take a real "Hey, Champ ... " tone and it's The Very Worst. And I don't even get into the really crappy stuff!

Also I legit don't know if this needs saying but I'm not having an "episode" or a "breakdown" or a whatever-*you*-call-it right now — lol I would not do that here what am I, stupid? (cut to ... )

Overall, I try not to make Twitter part of my therapy (read: I do not make Twitter part of my therapy) and tbh I'm not even all the way sure what I have to gain from talking about this to the internet. I'm just ... tired of feeling like I'm dealing with it alone and in the dark.

I just want to stop living behind it and live out in front of it. I want to stop wearing it as a mask and not offering any sort of explanation as to why I am so unrealistically positive so much of the time (spoilers: it's because when I'm incapable of positivity, I am not around)

*pause* I also want to say that if I'm not around, it doesn't mean I'm feeling down. I'm just doing other things. Seriously. Please don't worry about me. I have so many outstanding friends and a wife who is unrelenting in her support of me for nearly 20 years now.

I also know it's not like that for everyone. It wasn't always for me. If just one person who's stuck on how much it sucks, or even a friend or relative wants to talk (also very not likely, again, still putting it out there), I'm not a therapist, but I'm here for you, too.

Important to note too that my internal experience does not represent anyone else's. I mean it might, but bipolar's a strange beast that manifests differently for a lot of people, and we're 2-4% of the US population. (Reason 1,059,430 that #representationmatters for everyone)

For me, when things are good, I wonder "is this really me? or am I the sad one?" When things are bad, it's "yeah this is me." When I'm learning something new, it's "I'll never do this meaningfully." When I'm in a relationship, it's "welp how long until I fuck this up?"

Not just "relationship" relationships, either. I mean any relationship. Work, friends, family, hell my dog when he doesn't want to play sometimes. As a fun bonus, generalized anxiety is complimentary with many people's bipolar disorder experience. #buyonegetonefree

It also creeps into literally every decision I make. "Am I absolutely sure I can run a business again? Okay but what about tomorrow?" "Why can't I just get up and do something?" "What sort of idiot loads a dishwasher like that?" Shit hypothetical me, I don't know, leave me alone.

Getting care is a real problem, too. Any untreated mental illness makes it difficult to find and keep lasting, meaningful work (read: the kind that comes with healthcare) which makes it extremely difficult to care for myself ... from which, well, little hope springs.

(I think I'm about halfway done. Maybe? Thank you if you're reading this. It can't be too much longer. I hope it's helpful.)

Then, during the odd times I have had healthcare ( #murica), it's a race to find a doctor who cares / knows enough about the nuances and interactions of my mental & physical state to write a prescription that works, because boy howdy the ones that don't REALLLY FUCKING DON'T

Of course it doesn't actually matter because you know who's not very keen on racing to the doctor and then back again and again on top of working 40 hours? Haha this guy, especially when I'm depressed. So I've had to go most of my life without that luxury.

So what does work? That's also different for everyone. Having a purpose on the daily helps, so I've found success with exercise, meditation, and cutting back on drinking and self-medication. Feeling bad pays compound interest, so I'm allowed to believe that feeling good can, too.

Speaking of, something I didn't even realize until a few years ago was that when things get dark for me, sometimes I don't even want to get better. I'm just ... "fine." Like this supremely perverse version of contentment. That was an upsetting but important thing to learn.

I also listen to a lot of new music as a hobby, so if you want to help drop me a recommendation. I just turned 38 and I refuse to become a "new music is stupid because I don't get it" person. I recently discovered http://radio.garden  and http://radiooooo.com . Super neat!

Obviously therapy has helped, and self-help books. Dozens. I hate that so many of them are couched in such capitalistic language — like dude I do not need to worry about Thinking And Growing Rich I'm just trying to summon the will to make and eat cereal while the lights are on.

A lot of self-help books would have you journal or set goals but I have a boneyard of those that just never seem to pan out. It's not a 0% hit rate per se, but like, remember how it took me 6 years to get out of college? I was 31. Goals come slowly, if at all. Just is what it is.

I bring this up to say that there have been so many things that haven't helped, and each one of them requires hard work, and consistency, neither of which are exactly "easy to come by" when you're dealing with mental illness of any sort, so it's really paradoxical in that way —

You spend the worst parts of it fighting to implement new things you don't want that might not even work. And then it's "is it really nothing? or a self-fulfilling prophecy? wait, DO i feel better? fuck this is confus-" for the rest of my life. So, technically I have two hobbies!

One consistent thing, though, is that Coronavirus has been like a cleverly-designed experiment designed to perfectly replicate what my world looks like when I'm depressed (not going anywhere, no hanging out) as well as when I'm manic (pie for breakfast! time is a mystery!)

Not to even mention seeing the way this country treats her own people and having too much time to think about it, like everyone else. It's hard enough doing this as a cishet white dude. Even I've been side-eyed in doctors' offices, I can't even imagine other peoples' struggles.

So the long and short of it is that it's been very easy to fluctuate, sometimes entirely without triggers, sometimes multiple times/day, and I am TAXED right now. I'm sure my poor family is. If you're reading this, I assume you possess enough empathy that you are too.

Also If you've read this much I feel I owe you the type of Grand Reveal or Pithy Conclusion that comes along with a diatribe like this. Something more than "reach out to your depressed friends" because you might not know what to do — or even who they are.

Sadly, I don't think I have it. I think the thread's destination might have always been its journey. I'm still in the middle of this. It's every day. It's nonstop. This was just meant to be a glimpse into my head so that you (and I, maybe) could understand it a little better.

Having said that, do reach out to your depressed friends. Just don't do it with the bashful eyes and cagey voice. I know I said we're not all the same but we all hate that shit. But "Hey what's up?"/"Hey let's go do (fun)"/"Oh I saw (thing) and thought of you" have their place.

And finally for those of you doing the work to help your friends & family through these things, you are fucking incredible. I'm open to hearing your tips, also. I love you, even if we've never met.

(30?/30? Iunno. It's the end. Thanks again.)

Also I take back what I said about this being easier than telling my boss. I am legit sweating.