High functioning lows and disfunctional highs

"Snap out of it. "

"You're too smart to be here. "

"This isn't you. "

Those are sentences I heard from someone I knew after I had been admitted to hospital for severe depression. Despondent, suicidal depression.

But all of those statements were wrong.
It was me. 

Intellect had nothing to do with it. 

There is no such thing as snapping out of it. 

In fairness, people saw what I wanted them to see- I hid everything in a fun flurry of distraction. But in truth, I was on walking life support. The outward appearance was a facade; a new paint job on a rotting house. An inside filled with chaos, papered with a smiling face. I had been like that for quite some time, functioning well on the surface, all the while crumbling at the foundation. And you can only patch and prop up for so long. 

I don't talk about that part of my journey often, partly because I want to leave it behind where it belongs. But also because, as much as there has been a movement toward acceptance and understanding, there is still a stigma that makes daily life a little bit more difficult to manoeuvre. 

I don't identify it because I don't want any of my decisions or reactions to be questioned or judged as not fully authentic. 

Those closest to me know, of course, but I don't offer it up. 

I've made peace with it. And with myself. Most days. 

But there is that fear. 

Fear that it will return in the form of light-eating shadows. 

When there is a low day, or a sad one, I must assess it. I have to be diligent and aware. Is it a regular sad or a slippery-send -you- down- the- hole- sad? I don't have that luxury of just mindlessly being in it. I have to make sure I know what it is first. I heard another line from the foot of my hospital bed all those years ago. 

"Everyone gets blue"

Ah, but there is a big difference between baby blue and midnight. A big difference and a thin line. 

Not all blues are equal

The lows aren't the only problem. They are easier to mask than extreme highs so I also have to watch if I'm too "up". Manic episodes are more dangerous. The body count is higher. With depression, you mostly harm yourself. When you are manic, everyone around is caught in the crossfire so there is a greater risk of casualty. It is difficult to trust a good mood, and even harder to celebrate it. Sadly, I must treat it with suspicion. 

Admittedly, there are times when I visit old resentments. There is regret about lost time and opportunities. More than once I've had to start from scratch and truth be told, it sometimes makes me angry; angry that I'm not where I should be at this point in my life. There is also anger because it is out of my control. It's like having an out of body experience while in a car crash. You know the wheels have come off and all you can do is hold your breath and hang on to the steering wheel. 

Each time I went skidding and crashing on that stony hard bottom, knowing the next step was nothingness, a nothingness that  I welcomed and wanted because to fight was just too much.  When you are at the bottom again, the climb back up seems impossible. Starting from scratch means your peer group passes you and you watch everyone that was on the same path, the same level, become successful in career and in life. Your success comes in the ways no one will know. While others were succeeding in getting great roles, great deals, great jobs, a success for me became the ability to take a shower, to put on clothes.

It's as easy to get caught up in regret as it is pointless. I remind myself that I should be proud of my rebirths and all that I have overcome. But it's hard not to think of what I may have become. I resent the reoccurring resurrection.

And so I remain the sentinel of my psyche, always watching for the enemy.
On the low days, I smile and laugh and joke, using those tools as the grand deflector. I make decisions, fulfil obligations, do what I have to in order to maintain order. And no one knows because I don't want them to know. I keep it from family so they don't worry, I keep it from my work so they don't judge. I keep my highs and my lows to myself until I know for certain that I have to put it out there and let someone else handle it.

It's a balancing act which constantly requires my attention and a good safety net. So every day I stand up, put one foot in front of the other and try not to look down.
Or behind.