My thoughts on being Bipolar and the boredom and lows that we suffer.
I do not know about you, anyone who reads this but the "gift" of our brilliance is also laced with the "curse" of the same. One once said "to be ignorant is to be blissful", this may be the case.
Bipolars we who are touched with the most brilliant creativity, love, and passion, pay the dear cost of decaying, bored and losing our luster in our wilting garden of inactivity at times.
To possess the intellect we do is remarkable but in that same higher attention to details sometimes it seems the "normal" non Bipolars among us seem happier.
To us, we gifted and cursed, cut by our own double edged sword of being touched with fire - Bipolar - it seems to me that on the whole mankind in general speak are happy in their sameness, the get up, shower, eat, work, eat, sleep, again and again, yet they are happy, content, reminding me of ants, going round and round the ant hill day after day not knowing or noticing the boredom, the monotony of their existence.
Sometimes I looks at others, non-Bipolars in their same routines and think, "do they know they are getting nowhere, do they not feel the weight of day bleeding into night and night to day and the endless cycle of the same over and over again? How are they "happy?"
I have read that Bipolars with our gifted artist passion feel boredom more and grow tired with the mundane swiftly, but how can you go from living on our brand of whimsy, our flights of the mind to just existing. Thus Bipolar is a gift to see more, feel more deeply, and yearn for more than just mere existance, but to live, to ride the lightening of the mind but it is a paradox that in order to have the "gift" you must also deal with the droll stagnation of always wanting to feel more and more alive thus the curse. A Pandoras Box, yet when I feel the dullness tugging at me in the winter,a Bipolars worst season I try to remember the "hope" of the sun in the wilting garden of those cold winds.
Let me know your thoughts.