That is what my psychiatrist told me a week and a half ago. I was going on about being interviewed for this article and being a blogger for that website and a member of this nonprofit and how everything was rosy. I felt great. No changes to the meds. I was ready to conquer the world and I had on an outfit on to prove it.
Now, don’t get mad at my psych doctor. He wasn’t trying to bring me down or create an ominous dark cloud above my head, but he knows bipolar disorder. He knows the good times don’t last…but neither do the bad times. It’s a cyclical disease. Up and down, up and down, round and round we go.
We talked for a while about just that, about the cycles, my cycles. He is a good doctor (even if he keeps me waiting in his waiting room for far too long).
The thing is that I always want to believe I am “better” when I am doing well. That those bad days are behind me. That there are only blue skies and butterflies before me. And twinkling stars, let’s not forget them, or better yet, shooting stars to wish upon. I DO become attached to the good times because I don’t want them to end. I don’t want the other end of the bipolar spectrum to come knocking on my door.
Less than a week after seeing my psych doctor I was desperately depressed. No, no, not because of his warning, but because of the chemicals in my brain that don’t work in the right way sometimes. Nothing horrible had happened, which is always the most maddening. There is no reason other than the bipolar disorder.
So my point? Don’t get attached to the good times OR the bad times, because bipolar disorder is a roller coaster of emotion. You won’t always be elated with life nor will you always be depressed. You will live a life in the extremes, sometimes taking a break in the middle. And that’s okay. Enjoy the ride. Enjoy those moments or hours or days or months that are good. You will need to remember them when you are at your low points.