As someone recently said to me, Halloween should be a national holiday. It should be the "wear-something-fun-and-gorge-yourself-on-candy" day. It should be just a national day of fun when we're not supposed to be giving thanks or making love or hiding eggs. I could get behind that. There are two reasons why Halloween is so fun: 1.       You get to dress up and pretend to be someone else 2.       You get to eat ridiculous amounts of candy and get a ludicrous sugar high Well welcome to everyday bipolar disorder.

I've seen quite a few doctors and I've talked to quite a few people who've seen quite a few doctors and one thing that constantly comes up - and decreases patient care - is a negative relationship between patients and doctors / psychiatrists. There are many reasons people have a poor relationship with their doctor, but one of them is that people are intimidated by their doctor. And doctors never seem to understand, or compensate, for that. So, quite simply, we have to.

I've been having a really hard time. Immobilized with depression. Frozen in time and agony. The pain of blinking keeping me weeping sporadically throughout the day. And so today I am angry. Oh sure, I'm depressed too, but I'm also largely angry. I'm hateful. I hate everything from people to stoplights to walking to moving my eyeballs. I'm just angry that I'm alive. But I have chosen this anger. I have chosen the anger over the depression because it is more useful. It's better to hate everything because hate comes with energy, depression does not.

"Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." ~The Princess Bride Life is pain. Or, at least, it can be. I've found that during severe episodes every breath, is, in fact, pain. There is nothing else. Just pain or unconsciousness. I prefer unconsciousness.

Doctors should take every patient seriously, but they don't. How can you get your doctor to take you seriously? Lets start with this recent comment (edited for length): I have a masters degree in pharmaceutical science and have worked with clinical research for 11 years . . . I feel that maybe I get to close to be on the "same level" as my psychiatrist. . . I am afraid my doctor might think that I have better control of my bipolar "state" than I have. I do not have control . . . I want her to think of me as THE patient. But on the other hand I do want to be involved and discuss treatments etc. . . I think that she does not realize how bad I am right now. No one does. I am that happy, funny outgoing guy Johan. They just do not look behind the mask . . . It is strange that no one takes it seriously when you say you have suicidal thoughts. Mutilation . . . My doctor knows that I am depressed. But why does she not realize how bad it is? So, how do you get your doctor to take your seriously when you often appear alright to your doctor? Can your intellect actually do you a disservice?

One of the most terrifying things about mental illness is that you can no longer trust what you feel. Oh sure, you feel it just as sure as day, but can you trust it enough to act on it? Not really. At least, not if you want to keep your job, friends, marriage and so on. You can no longer simply feel and act. Now you must feel, think and then contemplate acting. It's exhausting and not a particularly reasonable thing to be expected to do.

I hate having bipolar disorder. It's my least favorite thing about me. For all the talents I have developed, possibly in part, due to bipolar disorder, I would give those up in a moment to simply not be sick. But I did realize something about bipolar disorder - just surviving it is an achievement. And if I can survive bipolar disorder then I can do anything.

If you've been hanging out in the mental health corners of the web for longer than about a day, you've probably seen it - mental illness bashing. Mental illness, mental health, psychopharmacology, doctor, therapy and other-related-topics bashing. It's extremely common and extremely hurtful and destructive. But it's the wild and woolly web, and that sort of nastiness happens in the jungle. Here are some tips for not letting other people's nastiness get to you.

When I got diagnosed, I was attending a university and on my way to getting a bachelors of computer science. I was a pretty fastidious student in my first year and my grades were excellent. But before I knew what a mental illness was, I became sick and my grades dropped. It was only some time later that it became clear it was because I had bipolar disorder. And after months of treatment, nothing was working and one day, my doctor said to me, "You should drop out of school; you're never going to be able to finish your degree." Really? Pshaw.

I write an obscene amount. Here, plus my blog plus I write for other blogs and do technical articles. Oh, and I'm working on a book. This is very difficult though as I've found that a highly symptomatic bipolar brain turns into something more akin to a bipolar rock.