There Can Be Gratitude for Dysfunction (Why I'm Grateful for Bi-polar and Addiction)
Gratitude for Dysfunction
One of the things I am most grateful for out of all my traits and happenings and circumstances and issues and negatives and positives and all the aspects of my life is my acceptance and understanding of my core issues, those being addiction and bi-polar (trending towards mania). Now, finally, I am coming to understand and realize the purpose of having gone through my difficulties. I have again become grateful for having the issues I have that have caused trouble in my life but at the same time taught me more than an easy life ever could have. Learning what depravity is, what it’s like to not care (addiction), and to care too much (mania), and to care less (depression)… learning what it’s like to live so many different lives in the same lifetime, has caused me to grow in ways and understandings that I never would have otherwise. That I never would have had I been a normal kid or a normal adult or a normal whatever you want to call a person in my situation.
Break Down To Build Up?
Addiction Teaches As Well As Destroys
Addiction taught me what it’s like to be a truly cold and heartless user of people places and things. Things only meant anything to me if they could be sold or abused or utilized to get more of what I wanted, which was one thing and one thing only. Crack. It taught me what it’s like to be single-minded, to desperately “need” something that I would crawl out of my skin without. It taught me that anyone can be as cold as anyone else when it comes to true addiction. In my opinion, crack is true addiction, perhaps more so than heroine or any other addictive substance. I believe this because of the lack of physical addiction and withdrawal, but the intensity of the perceived need and perceived pointlessness of life without it. Heroine is addictive physically, and maybe harder to get off of because of the sickness of the withdrawal phase, however, from what I know of others’ experiences, it is something you want to get off of. You just can’t because of that physical craving and some mental attachment. Crack, however, doesn’t make you sick, it just makes you an absolute animal. It destroys any conscience you had, any loyalty, any desire for anything good in life. At least for me it did, and I think I could see that in the others around me. Crack is an absolute fucking demon, the scourge of many people’s lives, and degrading in all aspects. Heroine people can at least think that they’re helping someone to a point selling it to them, maybe, because of the sickness without it. Crack has no physical sickness, so the dealers have to be cold, and able to sell to poor, helpless people that are killing themselves and that probably won’t ever learn to maintain, to be functional, because of what you’re selling them. It must, must, destroy people on the inside to sell to their friends and relatives and see them sink because of the very thing that’s making you rich. All of these elements of crack selling and addiction and seeking have combined to teach me about the darker side of life, and of myself. I learned that everyone has a dark side, and I do believe that. It’s just something that you can avoid waking by avoiding negative things. I am grateful for it teaching me that, and for making me colder and bolder and a better thief and manipulator and self-advocator, all of those are things you need in a “world so cold,” a world this cold.
Bi-Polar Lessons Learned
Bi-polar, while not as desperation-inducing, has taught me about another side of life. The depression end is rather useless and I learned most of that end through my addiction. The mania, though, the mania taught me about the beauty in life, about the meaning of being altruistic, of love, of caring, of inspiration. A doctor I heard give a talk on bi-polar compared the manic phase to being in love, and I feel that that accurately describes what I go through, what I am blessed to experience whenever I go manic. The most recent episode could be characterized by the extreme care I had for others, the almost desperate need to help save people from their selves. I don’t for a second believe that people don’t need saving. I don’t for a second doubt the importance of the issues my type of mania makes you think about. I don’t think that being satisfied with your little pile of shit is positive in any way shape or form, or at least I understand feeling that it isn’t. I don’t think that wanting to change that for those you care about, and ultimately the world, is a psychotic ideal. I think, as a result of all my manic streams of thought and my manic experiences, that the world can be changed, and that everyone has the opportunity to self-actualize, if only they get taught and shown what self-actualization really is.
Oh No, Not Mania!!!
A Few Thoughts On Mania
I think that mania nowadays, the mania in this world, is only dysfunctional because of the overexposure to dangerous, risky forms of super-communication and the ability to go as fast as you want to. You can make an ass out of yourself in “public” with facebook and cars and malls and people grouping everywhere in some extent or other in quicker more efficient fashions than previously possible. My mania seems to be an extra sensitivity to vibes and the truth about people and what’s really going on, and the overexposure to those vibes from the internet and people’s over-sensitivity to mania, especially families that have already gone through the bad parts of it before, come together to create a setting that someone with keen intuition and care can’t handle. This may sound like a glorification of mania that might be from the point of view of someone who enjoys and believes in mania. Probably because it is. The great thing is that mania IS glorious, that mania is lifting and powerful and there is a truth to it beyond words and beyond 9-to-5 jobs and wives and husbands and kids and our society as a whole. There is a truth of the ages behind it, that you, just you alone, can change the world and help and throw things out there to the extent that people are forced to look at them and accept or reject them. Once you get over the silly embarrassment of saying things that are too intense or slightly off, you learn to appreciate mania after the fact for the beauty and intensity of it. And it teaches you that you have the propensity to be truly inspired, and leads you to believe that that is a state anyone can achieve with faith and a desire to help others and change things for the better, along with the belief that all of it is possible. It teaches me over and over again that depression is the true psychosis, and that mania is just inappropriate for a world enmeshed in hopelessness and depravity.
Without these lessons, without these “issues,” I may have been happy as a pig in shit doing the normal job wife car kid thing, but I would mean nothing to anyone I didn’t work with marry or help create. I wouldn’t be able to say “yea, I changed things.” Today, I realize I am meant to change things, and I’ve grown cold in ways I needed to to realize that sacrifices need to be made to accomplish things, and now that I truly want to change things for the better, I have no issue sacrificing normality and complacency in order to achieve actualization on some level, for me and for others. I am grateful, I will change things, and I will die with pride and the knowledge that I was not a run-of-the-mill human. I will leave this world, if I ever do, knowing that I had spread ideas that could and will save people from themselves and their minds. I may not touch many, but the word might just spread with the help of everyone like me, and with the help of me specifically, and things will finally change for the better, if one person at a time.