Thursday, September 5, 2013

Invisible Disabilities

I have two of them, I guess. I have diagnosed (and medicated) ADHD and Bipolar II disorder. These two clinical titles have shaped my life in such a significant way that it is impossible to imagine it without their destructive influence. I've tried and failed at many things because of my inability to concentrate and my incredible ability to talk myself out of meaningful ventures.

No one can see these things that are inside of me. No one can see the self doubt that, even when medicated, tempts me to skip class and work just to stay home and hate myself. No one can see the difficulties I have in sitting down and reading a book for more than thirty seconds without medication. And yet, these things have impaired me. They have weighed me down and almost ended my life at a certain low point in high school. I wouldn't have been killing myself, I have since decided. I would have been dying of undiagnosed depression.

In any case, I realize that there is no 'cure' for these things. There are only treatments. If I am unable to continue my medication regimen my life will, undoubtedly, fall apart. Even if I have developed fantastic habits and I'm just about the most productive guy on the block, I will revert to my old useless self and be unerringly unhappy. I will self-destruct, despite my best intentions and efforts.

It's tough, living with the knowledge that you are two pills away from being a total wreck again. It forces you to be extremely, sometimes painfully, self-aware. You sit and look at yourself, much like I did in my last post. You evaluate your decisions and habits. You learn to accept your deficiencies without limiting yourself unnecessarily or giving yourself too many excuses (I'm still struggling with this one). It's tough, and I hate the trajectory that my life has been on, but I'm coming to terms with it. I'm fixing my life for the better. I am finishing school on my own steam. I am bettering myself as much as possible. I am more confident, I am more emotionally open and available, I am becoming the person I think that I could, and should, be.

And a relapse is one missed prescription away.

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