The guilt of the innocent

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By Giles Addison

There’s an aspect of Bipolar Disorder that is acute and cannot be muted by medications. I live with it every single day, because I know the worry and fear that I have caused, time and time again. I know the worry and fear I will undoubtedly cause once more. Guilt. It is a huge burden to carry, knowing I am responsible for so much pain and confusion in those that love me. I am unable to guide my moods, many of my behaviours and some of my actions or decisions; there is no purpose to what I inevitably inflict upon others. I try as best I can to not let who I am cause anguish. This distancing may well lead to saving some from the turmoil I create, but those closer to me will often fail to see why it stands this way.

Guilt (1) - There’s an aspect of Bipolar Disorder that is acute and cannot be muted by medications. Guilt.

I cannot begin to tell you what it is like living with Bipolar Disorder.

It is an illness of the mind that has so many facets. The extreme mood swings of crippling depression and empowered mania, along with other troubling states such as obsessive thinking and unleashed rage. Every gamut of emotion runs through me just as it does you, but all of mine are felt to the extreme. It’s why I cry upon the slightest sentiment, roar upon the smallest passion and let love flow abundantly; everything I experience, be it positive or negative, rocks through me at such an intense speed that reason invariably eludes me.

The simplest of tasks can often escape sense and control, such as how to make a cup of tea. I am forgetful to the extreme, and frequently sinking in a financial quagmire. My head is a continuous battleground of thought and idea and voice, rarely silent or steady in its running. I’m fighting it all practically every single moment of every single day.

Practicing my smile

Sometimes, because I’ve practiced it for so long, I can show a smile that totally off sets what is actually going on inside. Yes, I take strong toxic medications to help me manage it all. Mood stabilisers to bring some sense of balance and anti-psychotics to stifle the screaming. But just like a crutch for someone with a broken leg, it still hurts like hell and I still have to hobble.

As I said, I am all to aware of how my illness can affect others. Every day I carry the guilt of having Bipolar Disorder, either because I’ve upset someone or angered them, I’m difficult to read or simply too moody. Of course, I can be quite dynamic and engaging and therefore appealing when gripped with hypermania, providing I don’t fly too high, but anything opposite to that which sees me maudlin and numb proves quite the opposite and is frequently taken as a personal offence.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve had to apologise for having this illness

For how it has impacted on someone, a consistent thing I’ve had to do for many years; because of course I chose to have it and am in full control of how it manifests itself. Blah! Dealing with all of this is a monumental battle I deal with every single day. It takes a considerable amount of strength to do so. Some days I do pretty damn well, I have the beast by the reins and I ride in the right direction, but on others I do not and the beast is untethered, my every breath at its mercy, tumultuous twists and turns rising on up.

I seek no sympathy or pity, it is what it is, and we all have our struggles in life. I hope by reading this rattling ramble, that whenever you are with someone who has a mental health illness you remember that, no matter how it is affecting you, they are not to blame. It is not a weakness that they possess, nor are their behaviours that manifest from it deliberate choices they’ve made. Forgive them, and forgive them in earnest, because in reality there really isn’t anything to be forgiven. Help free them of guilt.