Someday I'll make a documentary with this title, but until then, it's my blog. And though I am indeed a bipolar girl (bipolar-2, heavier on the depression, with a fortifying dose of hypomania), I am also deeply grateful for the powerful cocktail of (in no particular order) pharmaceuticals, family and friends, religion, and professional support (aka a really good therapist and a top-knotch psychiatrist) that keep me mostly healthy.
I don't just see myself as bipolar. I contain multitudes. And even bipolar doesn't quite get it right as a description of my experience. I don't experience hypomania and depression as distinct states -- it can feel quite muddled. And I'm quite invested in this idea of muddled -- and don't have much patience with binary oppositions -- so the name of my blog addresses that concept too, in a round about way. Red State/Blue State, Straight/Gay, Male/Female, Black/White, Christian/Everything Else -- none of these differences makes sense to me as absolutes. I have passionate beliefs, but I feel just as passionately about listening to people. I get mad, of course, when confronted with hate and close-mindedness, but, well, I know I'm capable of the same darn thing.
"Bipolar Girl Rules the World," is also, well, a joke on myself in a number of ways. Lord help me, I don't want to rule the world. I'm working very hard to let go of the illusion of control. I believe that we take small steps forward, seek out our calling, but we can't know where we'll end up. I pray, ask God for guidance, but hello, surprise, tah-dah, oh heck -- I don't know what is going to happen. I say this so simply, but trust me, this process of letting go is excruciating.
I have a friend and religious mentor, Pastor Pam, and I've watched her place her life in God's hands for many years now. Her journey inspires me and frightens me a little too. She is fierce in her faith, and very human, and today she preached her first sermon in her own church in a small town in rural NC. So a shout out to Pastor Pam, and lots of prayers for her and her parishioners.
In Pastor Pam's honor, here's to the fear, and the promised freedom, of letting go.