I will share with you guys some of my personal experiences with bipolar disorder also known as maniaco-depression and what i think about it. I've been diagnosed with this mental illness at age 26 in 2011. My father have this condition too, my grandmother also and one of my uncle has schizophrenia and other extended member of my family has similar conditions. Since my father has it, i had something like 20% of chances of having it. Going through tough situation and rough emotional moment made it even more possible for me to develop it. My father is a spokesperson for 'Revivre' which is a non lucrative organisation that helps people with that condition in my region. Aside from being active in helping people who either lives with the condition or have related people who live with it, he's been through therapy for more than 20 years to help him in different areas of his life. As a kid he used to tell me these crazy stories he been through and i just thought it was funny, i didn't know what the condition really was. My father subscribed me as a very young age to a study conducted by the Dr. Mark Ellenbogen and i've done many test in the past to help his research.
The way my father used to describe the manic episode was as if one day you start to do stuffs that doesn't make any sense just as if you was in a dream, only you're doing them in the real world. And then you wake up and realize that it wasn't a dream, that you really did those things. And that thought of loosing my mind at any time of my life started to freak me out in my teenage years around 16, 17 and 18 years old. I really didn't like the fact that i could loose my mind no matter what i did. And loosing my mind i sure did. At age 18 in June 2003, i started to have insomnia, i could sleep for maybe 2 hours a night at best. My mind was racing, all kinds of thoughts was bumping in my head and i couldn't do shit about it. I wasn't in communication with my father at the time and i wasn't living with my mother either. I was living alone in my appartment and i didn't really know what the fuck was going on. And then shit started to make sense, but too much sense. It felt like i've just received enlightment and i was about to save the world, and then i started to believe in all kinds of crazy impossible scenarios. For exemple, at one moment i thought the whole world was dead, and that i was one of the last survivors. Thoughts that didn't make any sense like that came in and out, the only problem was that i was believing all that shit and felt aware as i am right now. My girlfriend at the time and other people around me started to see that nonsense. To make it simple i ended up at the hospital and they told me i was going through a psychotic episode. When i've came down to earth, i couldn't believe all i've done (i could write a lot about my actions at the time but it would be too long). Basically after that i felt into depression, it's common after a manic and/or psychotic episode. But my doctor at the time wouldn't believe i was bipolar, one psychotic episode wasn't enough so he encouraged me to hold on, be strong and develop myself and i started to do just that. I've increased my readings of books, i've started to make beats and two years after i started to workout and i thought that with all that development i couldn't be sick anymore and that this psychotic episode followed by a depression was just a shitty moment of my past. The thing i didn't know is that nomatter how you develop yourself, this mental illness is genetic, it's a chemical imbalancement and once you have it, you're in it for life. But to be truly diagnosed with bipolar disorder you need to go through at least two manic and/or psychotic episode and two depression. And i was about to go through it again.
At age 26, in January 2011, my mind started to race again. Only i was believing so much in myself and in the good of this world that i just thought i was unstoppable. After 7 days or more of barely being able to sleep i lost my mind again. This time though, i've been through much more and much worse than in 2003. Even after being brought at the hospital (i thought it was part of my mission), i wouldn't believe the diagnostic, i just couldn't believe i had this condition, i believed at the time that bipolar disorder was for the weak, and that i was strong, that i was using 100% of my brain at least that's what i thought. I've done more crazy stuff than i did at age 18. One of em was that i ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time and a gang jumped me. It was a store, there was two levels, i simply came in, they thought at first i was a customer and then i sneaked into the boss office(nobody was inside at the moment) and i thought the turf all of a sudden was mine and that i was bout to meet 50 Cent and marry Nicki Minaj. So as i came in, i took off my coat, i started playing with the stuff in the office all joyful and then they noticed my intrusion. They suddenly stormed in, as i saw them i was about to shake the hands of my new workers but i was living in a poor dream, the first guy hit me in my face, they then put a bag on my head and pinned me down on the floor screaming at me 'WHO SENT YOU, WHO THE FUCK SENT YOU!? They started searching in my pockets, hopefuly i didn't have anything worthly of any attention. Then they made me stand up, i couldn't see a thing with this bag on my head and i was scared as fuck, i just couldn't understand what was going on, i was very confused. Then one of them hit me in the left side of my ribs, i felt down, and one of em kicked me at the same spot, it was pretty painful. Then they said don't be a fag, they made me stand up, i heard them say let's take him outside. Outside they took the bag off my head, threw one of my shoe away and told me to get the fuck out of here. I jogged, took my shoe and then i turned my head back and stared at them. As soon as i gave em a stare, one of em started to run at me, i didn't flee, i've waited for him. Then he walked with me on the sidewalks, i suddenly asked him all joyfull, would you rap with me?(as of rapping like a rapper). He said something i didn't understand and then hit me in my face and told me to never came back again and then he left. I took the next bus, didn't pay and after i just sat my ass down and started to cry. I was very confused, just before getting into that turf, i've walked for more than 10 hours, i was very tired. I was asking my self what did i do wrong? Thing is i was just a ill bastard on the loose. I've been pretty lucky not to be knifed or worse, cause the turf i just happened to be in was a turf held by the arab mafia in the worst hood of Montreal and they simply don't fuck around. I also almost killed myself when i decided to cross the river and sneak myself inside a dam. I could go on & on.
I ended up at the hospital again, i wanted to leave but since there is a law who protects adults from being captive in a hospital against their will, my father had to bring me to court and go against me to prove to the judge that i was a danger for myself and that i was better to stay inside the hospital and receive the right treatment. They gave me that treatment and i came back to myself, and at that particular moment, i felt weak like i never ever felt before in my entire life. I then felt down into another depression. I thought i've developped the illness because i didn't do the right thing or just because i was a weak ass mutha fucka. The truth was it wasn't my fault, it was in my genetic, it's a chemical imbalancement in my brain that is beyond my power if not treated correctly. The hospital personal was very cool with me, they saw my interest in reading so they gave me documentation on the topic. One of these document was pointing out many successful people who had that illness. And then i started to read some of these people biographies and realized i could still make it in life, be happy and so on.
I've been in the hospital for about 4 months, the toughest part was to accept it. I wasn't alone there, many people had similar condition better or worse and i've noticed how hard it was for everybody to accept their conditions. Basically they tell you it's alright and all but you know deep down that you're just crazy and it ain't nice at all. I've learned the importance of taking my medicine, with it my brain can function normaly and i can have a life. The sad part is many people don't accept their conditions and not only refuse the medicine but take drugs and it just make the situation way worse. Going through a psychotic episode is very toxic for the brain, if one individual goes through too many pshychotic episode, he can end up crazy for life no matter what medicine they give him, so it is of major importance for anybody diagnosed with that illness to take their medicine at the right time. I'm currently taking 'Seroquel XR 300mg' and 'Epival 750 mg'. I take that shit everyday and i'm very grateful that the scientifics have found ways to correct that illness. Of course the pharmaceutical industry is not perfect, but i don't want to go through any of that shit again.
As for the actions of the sick, it will depend on their personalities. If one individual has very violent behavior, then there is many chances that these behaviors end up being reflected in his psychotic episodes. Thankfully i'm a very peaceful individual in general, so i didn't commit any crimes or didn't hurt anybody, i was more a danger for myself than for others. If you are living with this or know anybody that's going through this, in my opinion the acceptation has to come first and then it's very important not to skip the medicine. No matter if those medicines has side effects like drowsiness, you can do exercises, study, have a job and do whatever the heck you wanna do and be happy if you put yourself into it, just don't give up and stay strong no matter what. I better be living with bipolar disorder and have to take medicine than go through multiple psychotic episodes and end up fucked up for life. Stay strong! Don't let that condition or any other condition dominate yourself, take the time to accept it and take that opportunity to forge yourself again only better this time. And once you've accepted it, it doesn't do any wrong to laugh about it too. Thank you for your time and comprehension.