Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.
Every day begins with an act of courage and hope: getting out of bed.
There is no great genius without a mixture of madness.
Everybody is identical in their secret unspoken belief that way deep down they are different from everyone else.
Manic-depression distorts moods and thoughts, incites dreadful behaviors, destroys the basis of rational thought, and too often erodes the desire and will to live. It is an illness that is biological in its origins, yet one that feels psychological in the experience of it, an illness that is unique in conferring advantage and pleasure, yet one that brings in its wake almost unendurable suffering and, not infrequently, suicide.
Bipolar disorder can be a great teacher. It's a challenge, but it can set you up to be able to do almost anything else in your life.
Mental health needs a great deal of attention. It's the final taboo and it needs to be faced and dealt with.
I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered.
There is no need to suffer silently and there is no shame in seeking help.
Mental illness is a very powerful thing. If it is with you it is probably going to be there until the day you die. I am trying so hard to break mine, but it is not easy. It is my toughest fight ever.
Bipolar depression really got my life off track, but today I'm proud to say I am living proof that someone can live, love, and be well with bipolar disorder when they get the education, support and treatment they need.
I'm bipolar, but I'm not crazy, and I never was. I'm stark raving sane.
As I say I don't want to kill myself, I just wouldn't mind dying.
I'm not the kind of person who likes to shout out my personal issues from the rooftops, but with my bipolar becoming public, I hope fellow sufferers will know it's completely controllable. I hope I can help remove any stigma attached to it, and that those who don't have it under control will seek help with all that is available to treat it.
Soon madness has worn you down. It’s easier to do what it says than argue. In this way, it takes over your mind. You no longer know where it ends and you begin. You believe anything it says. You do what it tells you, no matter how extreme or absurd. If it says you’re worthless, you agree. You plead for it to stop. You promise to behave. You are on your knees before it, and it laughs.
We of the craft are all crazy.
Then I overdosed at 28, at which point I began to accept the bipolar diagnosis.
I compare myself with my former self, not with others. Not only that, I tend to compare my current self with the best I have been, which is when I have been midly manic. When I am my present "normal" self, I am far removed from when I have been my liveliest, most productive, most intense, most outgoing and effervescent. In sort, for myself, I am a hard act to follow.
I think Hell exists on Earth. It's a psychological state, or it can be a physical state. People who have severe mental illness are in Hell. People who have lost a loved one are in Hell. I think there are all kinds of different hells. It's not a place you go to after you die.
It's rather splendid to think of all those great men and women who appear to have presented symptoms that allow us to describe them as bipolar. Whether it's Hemingway, Van Gogh... Robert Schumann has been mentioned... Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath... some of them with rather grim ends.
I've had this problem since I was in my 20s. They don't call it manic depression anymore. They call it a bipolar disorder, and I'm a Type 2?
I'm not the kind of person who gives up without a fight.
Earth is an insane asylum, to which the other planets deport their lunatics.
Where would the memoir be without bipolar writers? I mean, that's what - that whole oversharing thing is really a very clear symptom of bipolar disorder. And I'm not saying that every, you know, I'm not accusing every memoirist of being bipolar. But I think in a way it's kind of a gift.
Madness is to think of too many things in succession too fast, or of one thing too exclusively.
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