Capitalism and bipolar disorder

My illness relates to many many factors. It is my upbringing and my biology. It is society, it might even be fate.

My illness maybe relates the most to a lifestyle, no; to a mode of being that I am not the only one to have created but surely had to abide to. My illness is so common you would be surprised. My illness is “in” these days. My illness is a mutation, a mistake if you would like. My illness is a blessing as much as it is a curse.

I get to the downs of the deep blue and sometimes I stay afloat. Sometimes I even catch a boat, a sailboat- nothing too fast. I wonder and I ponder about my existence and yours. I shed a few tears and even pop a few pills.

I always end up where I started with mixed feelings about everything. Nothing is my favorite as how should I know? My illness changes my mind as I grow.

Something is constant amidst this storm. I know there is a malfunction, that much is true. Why does it relate to inequality go ahead and ask me. All is a competition, life has become a race. We run around all day seeking a bigger dream. I don’t get there and you don’t either, but why does she? Born in here, studied in there, oh that is her family? Where is my choice in all of this? Where is this leading me? Achieve and fail and fail to achieve. I ask myself why I stopped dreaming. Those images were not mine but yours, so why keep them in the first place? Illusion, delusion, materialistic being. This is not whom I should be. Why wake up and swirl like a mouse? That’s when I decided not to leave the house. I felt immense fear from life; how on earth can I win this race? Exclusion, demotion, gender roles or nationality?


On depression

We are all different individuals. We live in different countries, have different cultures, and even different brain chemistry. Yet, no matter how individualistic this might be, the truth is most of us can identify with broad topics such as depression and happiness.

So what is depression really? Why do we get it? Why does it hit some of us and not others? Can we heal from depression? Can we function with depression? Plenty of questions and maybe not enough answers.

To me depression is emptiness. It is a state where nothing of value matters; a deep void full of pain and shadows crawling into my brain cavities saying loud and clear “what is the point?.” Depression is the time I feel I don’t exist, should have never done anything I did before, and cannot possibily think of anything that could make want to do any action. Days are long, nights are also often longer. Talking is as painful as listening. No amount of staring at the ceiling while staying in bed is enough. Life is a long drag of putting my feet down, taking uncertain steps in this fear of the unknown. Depression in my view is the realization that my brain is scary and totally out of control….

When the medication kicks in





the state of being objective or aloof.

“he felt a sense of detachment from what was going on”

synonyms: objectivity, dispassion, dispassionateness, disinterest, indifference, aloofness, remoteness, distance, open-mindedness, neutrality, lack of bias, lack of prejudice, impartiality, fairness, fair-mindedness, equitability, even-handedness, unselfishness

“as an anthropologist you look on everything with detachment”

I am taking my meds religiously. I look at the pills and think they have salvation inside. As if that one pill at a time will erase my sadness and fill me with light instead; little by little. 
I never liked drugs or wished to try them. I am a control freak and with antidepressants and anti anxiety drugs you lose control. I don’t feel the light I imagined, but maybe it is just too early. 

I live in my body but it is like a machine. I do chores with an empty mind. I am neither hungry nor thirsty most of the time. I just want to sleep. 

When I do I enjoy it so much. It is like being on a boat trip with the sea singing a lullaby to take me deeper and deeper in this state of drowsiness. I wake up reluctantly wishing it could last some more. One more minute of total detachment, forgetfulness, un-feeling; one more moment of being happily depressed. 

More to follow

I (ab)normal

  1. deviating from what is normal or usual, typically in a way that is undesirable or worrying.
  2. “the illness is recognizable from the patient’s abnormal behaviour”
  3. synonyms: unusualuncommonatypicaluntypicalnon-typicalunrepresentativerareisolatedirregularanomalousdeviant, deviating, divergentwaywardaberrantfreakfreakish;More

    I think the worst is over, or at least some of it. It took me months to admit that I needed help. I tend to be tough on myself, always demanding a tougher version of me, a quicker version; a sort of me 3.0.

I don’t know about you, but to me life is a race against time in many ways. You are born, you go to school, you need to go to university, get a job, get another degree, get married, get kids, and define yourself as you go. Don’t get me wrong, I love my life, I really do. I won’t change my family for the world. I think I have a perfect family. I think I have a solid bunch of degrees under my belt. I think I have travelled – maybe not that far – but far enough to know how the world functions elsewhere. I have made friends, attended funerals, volunteered, partied, tried natural births twice, took homeopathy, and eat organic. I am also a vegetarian. Actually I am a pescatarian. I care about the environment, and I don’t buy fur. I like my morning coffee, and clean sheets. I smile to strangers on the street. I would give my seat on the bus to anyone happily. I cook and don’t mind cleaning after my kids throw up on me. I can pack a house in a 24 hours and unpack it in under 3. I speak four languages. I hate drugs. I don’t believe in religion but would love if Santa were real. I love reading a good book, and I adore chocolate. I am normal.

But I am everything that is the opposite too. I have to smell a glass twice at least before drinking. I sort my laundry meticulously. I smoke. I am not a morning person, and sometimes neither an afternoon nor evening one. I have trouble speaking my thoughts sometimes. I also tend to be antisocial in a social way. I dislike introducing myself to people. I love being natural, but do botox or else I would die. I contradict myself and forget that I did. I am consistent in my inconsistencies. I tend to forgive people, but feel super guilty about everything. I am a super demanding parent, who thinks her kids can do absolutely anything. I eat sometimes at night when everyone is sleeping. I cry easily and  I am an only child. Probably egocentric – hence this blog.

Yet, I wish I could put myself in a box. It would make things much easier. I wish there was a manual to let’s say Gemini women born in 1980 at 2:05 PM in Paris that I could refer to when stuck. I looked but I couldn’t find any…

More to follow…