Return of the Mack

My blog turned into shit. I used to use it, but man it is nothing now. Being bipolar sucks. See, I used to be relatively consistent. I use the word “relatively” pretty loosely. I wrote, I aimed for self improvement, I tried my best to inspire others to the same. Problem is, my life fell apart.

I was diagnosed bipolar 2 in early 2019. My mother in law passed shortly after, followed by the birth of my 5th child, where my wife almost died in the hospital. Then, Covid struck and shut us down. At the time, I believed I would hop right back on my feet, but what I didn’t realize is that all the trauma happening had triggered a mixed bipolar episode that was about to get very, very bad.

I had a break in spring 2021. I had stuffed down underlying issues during my wife’s grieving, and it exploded into a burst of delusional paranoia. I was making bad decisions, burning through money, and alienating my family, friends, and coworkers. It wasn’t until November when it was like a fog lifted and I realized what was happening. It took well into 2022 for it to pass completely, and I’m still processing the whole thing.

It derailed me completely. I haven’t been able to pick up where I left off before the episode, because I’m not the same person I was before it. The positive, goal oriented man who was pushing to be a speaker is dead. Now I’m a man whose illness nearly broke his world, and attempts to be that old me prove futile. I have a deeper respect and fear of my illness.

That is not dead which can eternal lie

Thats what it boils down to. Even when I’m doing well, I feel it under the surface. I can’t kill this monster. It will continually rear its head, probably at the worst times, and force me to confront it. It’s the nature of the beast.

That doesn’t mean I’ve given up. No, far from it. I’ve just been learning how to navigate the idea that there’s more than one version of myself, and I can’t trust them all. My nemesis doesn’t lie in the world, it lies within myself.

I always saw the world as a series of obstacles to overcome on the path to my version of success. Bipolar is like someone dropped a mountain on my path.

The king is dead, long live the king

All of that said, not only has this not beaten me, but as I slowly wrap my head around it, it’s making me stronger. Yeah, it’s realigned some of my goals. It’s made me understand there will be challenges to my own self awareness that I didn’t previously understand. Life is a voyage of self discovery, and I’ve learned a great deal about myself, and yeah, it’s been traumatizing.

I finally feel I’m getting to a place where I can reconcile what’s happened to me, and I can move ahead once again. The old me may be dead, but the new me is wiser, stronger, and more prepared than before.

Whether you like it or not, I’m back.