I was the weirdo at school. I found childhood, my teenage years and even my twenties really hard. 

Even now it pains me when someone talks down to me or ignores me. Like Vickie ignoring me at work today. Like the waiter at the pub really talking down to me. Over my life, people haven't been that nice to me.

 

I carry around this heavy knotted ball of sadness, a little bundle of sadness. Sometimes it manifests itself as painful knots in my back and shoulders, my tension point.

 

I've been bullied. I've been gossiped about. People have spoken down to me in a very condescending way. The message I received was always that I was never good enough, that I was not like everybody else, that I was different, that I was inferior to the bullies, that I was bad, that I was unlovable.

 

That's why rejection from a lover stings me so badly. It reinforces the message that I am not lovable or good enough.

 

And this is I believe where the bipolar disorder emerges from. It was a defense mechanism against and stemming from the raw pain of my life. Mental illness doesn't just appear out of nowhere.

 

The grandiosity of mania was a buffer and a powerful antidote against the narrative of never feeling good enough.

 

The bouts of creativity, needing little sleep, feeling energised and immersed in a creative pursuit, an escapism from reality and the humdrum of everyday life.

 

The impulsivity, a ferocious and raw desire to live life in the moment, an antagonist to contemplating the uncertainty of life and the need for caution.

 

The flight of ideas and lofty dreams a wishing, a longing for a better, happier future.

 

The overconfidence, swagger and playful quick wit an innate drive to finally be seen, be heard and acknowledged. To no longer feel invisible.

 

The preference for juggling many different projects and activities all at once a proactive leaning into the chaos life has to offer and turning up the volume.

 

The hair trigger temper a fight or flight response triggered by the slightest provocation.

 

This is why I believe my bipolar disorder came from trauma. Or at least my mania.