Have you noticed that when talking about people with Bipolar – often the happy sad theatrical masks are used as a Bipolar logo. Our personal brand. Not only is this brand far too sinister looking for my liking (ok, I think differently at 2 am in the morning) it is not befitting for the daily or ongoing experience of a person with Bipolar. I wish it were as simple as flipping between a good or a bad mood. From a smile to a frown. Nope. I experience the mush in-between that sometimes is mushily undefined and uncomfortable and this means that people around me – those I love and those I like less – experience this mask to mushy me.
What is appropriate about the masks is that often I – and I suppose other people with mental illness – use different masks to get through difficult times in the day, situations and people. There are a couple of problems with masks though. They aren’t always reliable. The even biggest problem is that they usually reveal something scarred – damaged, something that shouldn’t be seen, that the prettier facade had covered. This has in many ways happened to me. I lost my professional mask at work when I succumbed to a screaming match with my beastly boss in a puddle of of un-ending tears. People are now afraid of making me cry. Perhaps I should be happy this happened – I do want to be treated that I’d like to cry at the drop of a hat (there’s a good chance that I would about SOMETHING) but I digress.
Further my psychiatrist, like a well meaning parent of a gay child, pushed me out of the Bipolar “closet” at work. In a big fat flamboyant font, she declared that I suffered from Chronic Bipolar Disorder and that I was currently experiencing a depressive episode. I’d love to have been welcomed like the Bipolar Queen that I am on a good day, but truth be told my psychiatrist outed me at work, when I never wanted this mask to be removed. Am I ashamed? I don’t know. But it was another mask I would have preferred to not be moved.
The next mask I lost was in an intimate relationship where I was reminded of the many things that had scarred me in the past. The things that made me ugly. The things I never wanted revealed. This was huge and has left me jettisoned after a tidal tsunami hit me, when this mask was moved to allow the storm in. For a long time I had pretended the flip side of the mask wasn’t there. That the mask was up and protected me. Maybe it wasn’t to protect me. Maybe it was to hide the scars that I think are still there. That I believe are burned branded into my flesh in a criss cross banner across my mind and body. The kind of burns you don’t forget.
I have already spoken about in earlier blogs that I am not taking care of myself. That I am engaging in behavior that is not good for mental health and yearning for crutches that will just make me sicker. I’m more needy. I’m distrustful. I am feeling exposed on all fronts and I so desperately want to feel covered, supported, cared for even as the real scarred me. I’ve even snapped at my children one too many times as my prettier facade has slowly been falling apart. What am I going to do about it?
I am going to be better to me. I am going to go to bed on time. I am going to ensure that I eat when I’m supposed to, and not go hungry which makes my blood sugar drop and makes me feel more desperate. I am going to walk – and try and do things to make me feel better. I am going to make a gratitude list. I am going to love the simple things. Because by taking these small steps I plan not to try and put back up a pretty facade. Rather, I am going to learn to accept the scarred me but still beautiful me. I read once that the Japanese use gold to fill cracks in broken bowls and the result is a new item, celebrating the journey of the bowl. That’s what I plan to do for me. To polish and shine the damaged but oh so titillating me. Goodbye Bipolar Brand. Goodbye Masks and all the sh*t you bring with you. Be part of those who support us as opposed to those who don’t. I am 4 M’s Bipolar Mom.
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4 M's Bipolar Mom 
I enjoyed this very much because I can relate to this O so much. But I do like the masks and use them as logo’s, tattoo’s and of course most importantly in my everyday life. Sometimes I wish I didn’t feel the need to use them so often, but with a society that is uneducated and has so little understanding I have learned to wear them to perfection (not counting of course during major episodes). Is it the real me? No. Am I hiding a little? Yes I am a little bit. But it always me to slip in and out of situations that I would not otherwise be able to or keep people uninvolved in my personal life whom I don’t want in. It’s not a perfect solution…but after many many years…it’s one of the only solutions I have currently. Day by day learning still. TY for your post.
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Thank you so much for your comment. Im currently confronted by a deep blue bout of depression that well, has left little of me in its wake. But the truth is mental illness is exhausting. These masks are exhausting. But perhaps if we reach out to each other and talk about our experiences our loads would be lessened. Thank you for reading and please stay in touch. ❤
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