This post says everything I could have said regarding my own sites history. Could have, but didn’t. These are the words of Nick Wilgus, from his own blog.
This blog has a long history. Venerable? I would go that far. But it’s been around the block a time or two. You can’t tell that right now, because there are only a few posts. That’s because I deleted this blog. Not once, but twice. Chucked the whole thing.
Why would someone do that, you ask. Good question. The first time I chucked my blog was because I realized that it had became little more than self-pity-fest, and I was embarrassed by that realization, and in response to it I chucked the whole blog.
Self-pity is something that anyone with a disability of whatever kind has to come to terms with. I’m bipolar and that means I suffer, in a certain way. But there are many bipolar people out there, many of them far worse off than I am. In addition, there are people who are blind, people who are deaf, people with cancer, people who suffer from all sorts of hardship because of poverty, illness, abuse, maltreatment.
I wanted everyone to understand that I was bipolar, that it sucked, that it hurt, that it was a disadvantage, that I had to put up with more than the normal load of crap. And intertwined in all of that was my self-pity, my feeling sorry for myself.
It’s normal to feel self-pity when land in a situation like mine. It’s normal — for a while. But there comes a time when you have to stop, and instead of wasting your time on self-pity and trying to get everyone to feel sorry for you, and to start thinking about strategies and methods you can employ to make your situation better.
That was the reason, I guess, why I deleted the blog. Both times. I was afraid it was nothing more the endless whinings of self-pity. The purpose in starting the blog was to share my experiences as a bipolar person, to point out how some things are very difficult for me whereas they might be very easy for you. But I got sidetracked. And anyway, I had to ask myself, what does it matter if people understand me? What does it matter if they care? Is it going to take away the pain of bipolar? Is it going to make the pain stop? Of course not. So, yes, it’s nice when people care and lend you support during your rougher moments, but you can’t take advantage of that, and you shouldn’t take it for granted. No matter how much they might want to, they can’t help you. They can’t make the pain go away.
I realize, from my experiences with this blog, that it’s not really important what people think of me, or whether they feel sorry for me or not. That doesn’t make any difference. That self-pity is just a waste of time. I don’t want to be a person that others feel sorry for. I want to be a person who takes a bad situation and makes the best of it. I want to spend my energy and time and coming up with methods to make myself feel better and cope better with this disorder. For example, it’s a silly thing, but the TV “Friends” really makes me laugh, and I have all 10 seasons on DVD, so when I’m feeling down in the mouth, I put on my “Friends” and have a laugh and it makes me feel better. It shows me that not everything in life is terrible and awful. There are also funny bits, and sweet bits, and nice bits, like playing with my dogs.
Dr Elizabeth Kubler-Ross (sp?) defined the five stages of grieving. One of the first is denial; then anger; then bargaining; eventually comes acceptance. When you get a diagnosis of bipolar — or cancer, or any other disability — you go through those stages. At first there is anger and denial. It’s quite natural, as Dr Elizabeth documented. But eventually one must move on to the other stages and come to a point where one can accept reality as it is, no matter how much it sucks.
I’m not there yet. I’m still prone to self-pity. I still keep wondering why, of all the billions of people in the world, I had to be stuck with this bipolar crap. But I try to call a spade a spade and if I think one of my blog posts is to self-pitying, I just delete it and write something else.
I’ve realized, working on this blog, that it’s not really about bipolar. It’s about being given an added burden, however you might define that — an illness, a social situation, the woman who feels trapped in the body of a man, the gay person who can’t accept himself. Carrying this added burden, you’ve still got to make your way through life, and you have to do it for yourself, not for anyone else. Your disability might keep you back from a few things, but you can still grab a few bits of happiness here and there and make the best of your situation.
I am a firm believer of many years’ standing that you create your own universe. Everything in your universe is there because you put it there or you allow it to be there. You can’t make excuses or waste time on blame game. It’s all on your shoulders. If you look around and you don’t like what you see, then it’s your responsibility to change it. If you’re not willing to make the sacrifices required, then you have no one to blame but yourself.
I create my own universe. I didn’t ask for bipolar, but I can decide how I want to deal with it. I can make choices and decisions about it. And sure, I could spend lots of time in the self-pity phase, and many people do, but I want to get to the phase where I figure out how to cope better, how to do better, how to realize when I’m being bipolar and crabby and how to tell my loved ones about it and to ignore me and not take it seriously. I want to do better at taking care of myself, no matter how much I might resent having this disorder. I also get out of myself and focus more on other people and be part of the world.
Do I suffer? Yes. But so does everyone else, even “normal” people. We all have our “crosses” to bear, and everyone has some secret suffering inside that we may not know about.
So, am I going to delete this blog? I hope not. This particular version of it will be, I hope, a little more positive and a little happier than the old ones. I seem to be learning as I go. Anyway, thank you for taking time out of your day to read my scribblings. It’s much appreciated.
