Well in an effort to be open with what bipolar has done to me I’ll share some thoughts. I know that during high school I was able to write some thoughtful essays for English and history. Read quite a few good books. For my college diploma I had to write out a speech on a topic of my choosing which was why draft horses were still a viable choice for a small farm and present it to a class. I was nervous but was able to get my cue cards together and present it. I know I read a great deal of book in my twenties and thirties. I was a fast reader, easily grasping meanings and settings. I enjoyed scientific thrillers and nature and horse type books. When bipolar came knocking I gained the ability to be able to write copious amounts and actually wrote a small novel, which I never did anything with. It sits, gathering dust, on a shelf in the office, typed out neatly. When I started taking the medications I needed for bipolar my mind lost its ability to grasp things quickly. I lost the ability to talk effortlessly. I talk slowly now. I think slowly and carefully now. I use simple words, with the few complex words I use scattered in amongst the mundane. I recall so well having the ability to write a letter full of 50 cent words as I called them, flowing prose and I miss it. It’s as though my mind was stolen from me and replaced with a basic simple model of A, B, C buttons with no deluxe features at all. Sometimes I have tears for what was, and what is, but, in the end, I’d never go back to what was and not have what I have now. We all have crosses to bear and my mind not being as agile as it was is one of mine.
So, be thankful if you’re able to compose flowing letters or emails full of fancy words. It’s a gift that could be stolen away. I can only read and think with wistfulness of what was and what is now. And keep putting one foot in front of the other. Bipolar may have stolen my ability to have an agile mind but it hasn’t stolen my ability to love, care and have compassion.