I think that, every single day, I thank God, or whomever one would give
gratitude to if one is at all spiritual or religious, that I am bipolar.
Honestly, I don't believe that God has a direct hand in the going ons
of the universe ninety-nine-point-nine-repeating percent of the time,
but I do believe that - at any time - He could intervene... yet He
didn't. He didn't keep me from developing bipolar, nor did He 'cure' me
of it. It is His inaction that I am grateful for - or, at least... what I
presume to be His inaction. If bipolar was the result of negative
karma, like some kind of atonement, then I am overjoyed. I have enough
guilt to fill a lifetime already, whether truly justified or not, and
bipolar just... feels right as my path of atonement. But all must atone,
their entire lives, as no one is purely good. If you are born, you are
almost inevitably forced to atone (perhaps the only exception being
things like stillborn babies, or children who die at extremely young
ages.) I don't believe in the infallible and absolute innocence of
children, in all honesty, and believe that some children can be
conniving mongrels. So all, in their own way, must atone, though whether
or not they ever do is purely up to them. That's the beauty (and
horror) of free will.
So, why am I so grateful for my bipolar?
Well... not an easy question to answer, even if I asked it, myself. I
guess that, in the simplest and most concise way, I can say that bipolar
made me who I am, and I'm glad that I didn't turn out differently. I'm
also glad that the future is uncertain and so I have multiple paths to
end up potentially someone entirely different - just hopefully for the
better. Some see life as extremely linear - walking a straight line from
beginning to end until you die. I don't see it that way... Think Schrödinger's
Cat, but not necessarily with the certainty or belief that each
possibility exists simultaneously in innumerable different worlds which
each contain one of those innumerable possibilities. I do believe that
the end result of all things is inevitable and already determined in
some sense, but that free will allows us to determine our futures in the
moment. It's somewhat paradoxical, and perhaps a little nonsensical to
some or most, but it's what I believe. We make ourselves who we become,
yet all time is, has, and will exist, meaning that all things have been
done, thus determined. If one could warp to the future, I believe that
they couldn't alter it, nor could the knowledge of that future alter the
future. The future was already determined by all those who've lived
from the done of time until that moment in the future, even if we
currently exist before it. The past would be the same. Already
determined, meaning we couldn't change the past or alter the present,
and thusly the future. It's all inevitable, and yet we determine each
detail.
I also like bipolar because I believe that, without it, I
could never think of this kind of trippy crap. Bipolar is a drug that
you don't take... you just have it. It exists within you, is made within
you, and is a part of you. Highs that can whirl out of control
or create pure euphoria, as well as the lows that can drive one mad, or
strengthen the soul to be more enduring. All drugs have a price, all
individuals a different opinion of those drugs, and all users different
experiences using the drug. Bipolar's no different. Yes, some days it's
unbearable and I just want to scream in agony, while others I'm so high
off of myself that I couldn't have a care in the world. I can be
paranoid and neurotic, or careless and overjoyed. Much of the time, I
like the feeling that I don't have to be other people, or even try
drugs, to have a strong sense of what it would be like if I did or
could. Sure, drugs can more easily be taken at will and produce a
certain effect almost immediately, while bipolar does what it wants when
it wants. Sure, people reinvent themselves all the time, even changing
their gender if they so wish, but my personality can shift so much that I
don't feel I really need to reinvent myself. Certainly, some
things are more persistent and need to be more willingly changed, but
some things are more... plastic than others. Some things change on their
own or quite easily, while others need to be changed by effort and
willpower. Days long ago, I couldn't handle this vast differences in
myself, and partitioned them as if separate people entirely, but I think
I'm learning to embrace and incorporate all those differences into one
body and one mind.
Without bipolar, I don't think that I would
intellectually and spiritually embrace life like I do, despite the fact
that I hardly ever embrace it physically, anymore (that's
anxiety-related, though, not directly bipolar.) I don't think that I
would see the world anything like I do now... It would probably be...
logical, simple, and structured. I used to be incredibly quiet, very
attentive, very logical... I do sometimes dwell and reminisce about
those days of simplicity, but since when did simplicity really get
anyone anywhere? And I am speaking relatively, here. Sure, without
bipolar, I'd probably be drastically more successful in a social way,
but sometimes I wonder if I would've been dead in a spiritual way. So
called 'dead inside.' Sometimes, it seems like those deemed 'mentally
healthy' are the most unhealthy. They thrive in the physical world, but
frequently die in the spiritual and philosophical worlds. I believe that
sociopaths are a perfect example of this... I am holding less and less
against sociopaths, nowadays, but I do still see them as hollow, empty
voids, conditioned only to prosper in this finite, mind-numbingly
concrete world. Society was seemingly made for them, and yet
those who constitute most of society tend to fear them. Why be such a
proponent of something you fear? I'm holding less and less appreciation
for the humans' world, of society, of economies and governments, of such
confining man-made structures. We often complain when something is 'too
much,' and yet humans almost without exception constantly add more to
the monstrously vast social dynamics and physical creations. And as time
goes on, as overall safety is more and more greatly assured, as we
build walls and hold off threats by gun and missile, as we create
medical treatments that fight off previously lethal illnesses and
prolong lives, as we become more constructed and powerful as a
species... something in us gets smaller and smaller and smaller... until
it's nearly impossible to see. This little... glimmer. It fades just a
little more each generation, each millennium... perhaps never fully
disappearing (halving? since halving a value infinitely could never
yield a complete and pure zero.)
But individuals pop up from
time to time... They marginally revive this glimmer, breathing more life
into the world. They're spiritually attuned and entuned (whether
they know it or not.) Human existence, in the end, is like a vast
network of speculation... Human life is like seeing a plane blow up in
the sky, causing everyone to conjure up any possible explanation for
such an incidence. But... for some reason, we rarely, or seemingly
never, get to the next part... At least... not in this life. We never
get to the part where the facts are laid out, proven infallible, and
agreed on by at least the majority, perhaps with a handful of outliers.
We're stuck in the speculative stage of guessing and assuming. But I do
commend one particular quality of note... I commend those who can accept
that the answers will be presented to them in due time, should the be
presented to them at all, and try to simply await that time while moving
on with the rest of their lives. I think that all who can do this act
of self-restrain learn to do it at varying times relative to one
another, at their own pace. It is true that... in life, things won't
come to fruition, or simply in your life, if you do not seek them or
take action, and yet I believe that things will happen when they happen.
Do not stand idle, but do not necessarily expect to find what you're
looking for. Seek with the notion that you might end up with something
entirely different. What is the lyric? You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you might find, you get what you need,
is it? Rings true with me. Each moment is a stepping stone to the next.
However, their are many stepping stones after each stepping stone, and
it's you're choice which to jump to. I think bipolar brought about more,
new stepping stones for me... perhaps at the price of ones that may not
have been 'meant to be.'
Final Note: Yes, the title is
intended to be sarcastic, and somewhat ironic. However, I figured that
bipolar is often like a ticking time bomb that goes off.. and then
magically regenerates into another bomb that inevitably blows, in a
continuous, endless cycle of explosions.
[Disclaimer: This is a 3,028 word essay of philosophical rambling.]
I
read article upon article, individual word after individual word,
taking it all in like some mad supercomputer. I was almost
subconsciously absorbing it while merely consciously knowing that it was
absorbed. And as it become absorbed, images persistently produced in my
mind of some sort of liquid, slimy, grey creature made out of not
cells, or even a single cell, but the tar and muck and grime that it
squirmed in. It was almost horrifying, and yet so stunningly
captivating. It moaned without a sound, the melting expressions evident
yet constantly morphing and sliding away. It was the culmination of
centuries, millennia, of strife and bickering, of suffering and pain, of
ennui and anger. It was the culmination of the legacy humans would most
likely leave behind, masking all the greatness. It was disappointment.
Certainly,
it is easier to make judgments and speculations from atop the hill,
while looking down upon the battle from afar. Certainly. And I believe
it difficult to say whether it is more honorable to make such
speculations and judgments at such a vantage point, than to make
judgements and actions while in the thick of it. Hindsight may be 20/20,
as the saying goes, but why is it time and time again that mistakes are
merely pointed out, but seldom, if ever, learned from? Another adage
goes that history repeats itself, which, while not conflicting with
'hindsight is 20/20,' certainly suggests that there is some inevitable,
yet logically avoidable error in human judgment as a whole. And a few
may learn from the mistakes, and may in fact try to create change and
enlightenment, or simply avoid recreating the mistakes of the past
themselves, but humanity as a whole has some fundamental flaw.
That
moaning and groaning, slime-borne, mute creature of humanly Hell
personified (which is quite redundant, yet seemingly necessary), in my
mind, was spawned of the spats back and forth between people of such
similar minds fighting over one of many details. "It is a very
important, central, pivotal detail," one might say, but it doesn't
change the fact that the bickering and fighting and, many a time,
slaughtering was beyond unnecessary. How many souls faded from the early
by the hands of another over a detail? Out of thousands of various
ideals, beliefs, and concepts, one single idea could be different, and
wars might be waged over it. Mental illness does not lead to outrageous
reactions, to fighting and slaughter, to death and decay, to evil and
darkness... Some... core, fundamental quality, nature, or susceptibility
in humanity does. Some attribute it to demons or otherworldly evil
spirits, some to nothing more than humans, some to free will, some to
fallacies. A combination of all such things, or perhaps merely some, may
be the root cause. But then I think about those individuals who best
this susceptibility, this weakness, this flaw, and I wonder, 'If they
can do it, why doesn't everyone?' Free will. A double-edged sword.
Free
will is an extraordinarily frequent theme in many philosophies and
religions. What is free will? It is the idea that each human can act in
whatever way they so choose. This certainly does not mean that they can
achieve any goal that they wish, necessarily, or that things won't stop
them from either committing to that action, or succeeding in carrying
out the action. Surely, if a man with a knife from a hundred feet away
charges at a man with a gun, there is little doubt that the man with the
knife will probably be shot and possibly die before stabbing or slicing
the man with the gun. But the choice to pursue the action of attempting
to attack the man with the gun was completely the knife-wielding man's
own, made of his own free will. He may not succeed, it may be futile and
self-destructive, but it was his own choice. Many feel trapped or
chained, while forgetting that, inevitably, no external restriction can
truly take away their free will. They can try to get out of the chains,
out of their prison, whether or not they will succeed.
Time
and time again, man is witness to man's demonstration of free will
where free will may even seem unlikely. A convict tunnelling his way out
of prison, a militia thrusting themselves at their enemy in certain
doom, a pilot travelling some hundreds of miles across vast, isolated
mountains from his crashed plain in hopes of finding rescue. In
the face of hopelessness, man either breaks from delusions of having no
options, no cards left to play, or they embrace their free will and take
actions, however unlikely the goal behind that action is. And free will
is obviously, and not-so-judiciously or minimalistically, utilised in
lesser matters that may very well escalate to vastly consuming matters.
Everyone has opinions, beliefs, thoughts, ideas, perceptions, views, and
so on, but free will is the catalyst behind acting upon those things.
Often, they are thought to be our identity, or they are argued (perhaps
even with some ferocity), that it is not our identity when others
believe it is. And whether or not it is our identity is irrelevant to
me, at this time, if nothing else. The fact is that everyone with a
conscious mind has them, and often enough, individuals take actions in
regards to them.
And this is
not to say that one should or should not take actions fuelled by beliefs
and whatnot, some beliefs even dictating that one should take action
regarding the vary belief that is dictated. I am not about to argue for
or against any personal beliefs, and dogmas or philosophies, any major
concept in human history. I myself have never utterly agreed or meshed
with any one set of beliefs, abstractions, et al., nor have I utterly
disagreed with many, or most, that I have come across. An image comes to
mind of the modern sniper, proficient in becoming one with his
environs, clad in a ghillie suit, crawling slowly and steadily, while
occasionally attaching and assimilating foliage from his surroundings
into his ghillie suit. By taking the actual flora and making it a part
of his camouflage, his is able to seamlessly blend and become one with
the nature around him. Now, I'm not meaning to imply that I simply take
fragments of everyone's ideas and beliefs, assimilate them with my own,
and then blend in with what of humanity surrounds me. While I may be
more of an observer than an agent, while I may prefer to generally stay
back than jump up front, while I generally avoid attention than strive
and seek it, while I'm generally introverted and not extroverted... I do
not simply assimilate to blend in. Rather, most who have met me find it
quite hard to imagine me 'blending in.' While I may not pop out to the
masses, I am also starkly different from those who surround me
(sometimes creating the very strife, the avoidable mistakes that I've
been describing, wrought from incongruent views and thoughts, or
misconceptions.)
If I were to
try to describe myself in relation to my surroundings, to the world
around me, while trying to avoid self-centric, narcissistic,
self-praising, or any other such or similar adjectives, words, I would
say that I am like a lone nightshade in a field of lilies, dandelions,
roses, petunias, violets, and most any other flower imaginable, sans any
other nightshades. Out of a sea of flowers, some similar, many
different, some grotesque or appalling, others wondrous and enchanting, I
am the lone nightshade. So, while none or few of the other flowers
necessarily blend in, or are completely unique, while there is a
myriad of colors, shapes, and sizes, I still remain the lone nightshade.
Perhaps there is a lone lotus, as well, who may or may not stand out,
who may or may not look out of place, but that does not change that I am
a lone nightshade. And yet, do you know what is interesting? I
repeatedly point out what is different about me, as many people do about
themselves, or their beliefs, or whatever else goes on in their head.
People want to be different somehow, to stand out, or they want to point
out the contrast in an attempt to make others assimilate to them. But I
don't just want to point out my differences in this metaphor. You see,
everything I described was a flower. Everything I described was flora.
Everything I described took sunlight and converted it into sugars and
other usable resources through photosynthesis. Everything I described
has relatively similar genetic material and structures. And something
interesting is that I can list more similarities than differences about
my metaphor of being a lone type of flower in a field of other flowers,
and yet any two humans are more similar to one another than any of the
various flowers in the field. Sans organisms that utilise asexual
reproduction, humans are perhaps some of the most genetically similar
creatures.
Race amongst humans
doesn't exist, yet we wage war over it. For all of the seemingly
radical ideas that come from the many human minds out there, and
throughout the millennia, there really isn't a whole lot of true
uniqueness, novelty, or extreme in any one idea, relative to the ideas
of many others now and past. In away, ideas are simply one more brick,
one more plank of wood, building upon previous ideas, and creating a
singular structure. What that structure is or will be... I could never
tell you. I have not created a single original thought in my life, but I
certainly have taken many thoughts and ideas from others, I have
learned from experience, from history, from texts and others, I have
accumulated knowledge and wisdom, and the very specific combination of
those non-unique thoughts and ideas is what is unique. No one has
experienced exactly what I have, no one has learned the exact
combination of things I have, no one has thought the exact lifelong
string of thoughts that I have. It is not any one thing that makes
anything or anyone unique. No atom, no molecule, no organelle, no cell,
no organ, no gene is truly unique, and yet every individual ever born to
the world is unique through their individual wholeness.
With
so little, yet so much, uniqueness, it becomes harder and harder to
grasp what we fight about with one another. It becomes harder to even
comprehend war, strife, and struggles between other human beings. Sure,
if some sci-fi movie came true where some previously unknown alien race
chooses our very own planet to exterminate of all native species, it
would make perfect sense to war against them. There are also many
movies, stories, games, and even religions centred around 'battling
demons' or 'destroying evil.' It dehumanises these concepts, and makes
them something totally different. And yet, humans see these things,
compare one remotely similar quality to another human being, and decide,
"Well, you must be evil, so you must die!" What kind of rationale is
that? Or the idea of killing all who don't believe in your faith? Say
someone - 'Person A' - believes that someone else - 'Person B' - is
going to Hell because Person B believes something different, even if
only infinitesimally different, does that give Person A any - ANY -
right to kill or harm Person B? If Person B suddenly went on a murderous
rampage, then sure, if you can't detain and/or get them under control,
Person B probably needs to die. They did, after all, decide to go on a
murderous rampage. But if Person B wasn't causing significant harm to
the people and world around them, especially if Person B wasn't causing
any more harm than Person A, in what way could Person A ever have the
right to kill Person B because a thought in their head is different?
The
amalgam of all negative emotions, of all darkness and - perhaps - evil,
of all the wrongs in the world and all of the lives cut down
unjustly... in my mind creates this screaming, moaning, groaning,
crying, voiceless slime that constantly melts and slops and reforms and
morphs... It gets bigger and bigger and bigger until it seems impossible
to see anything else. How can one not see the accumulation of such
torment and gloom over the entire course of human existence?
And
yet, life would not be life without it. Why? I can't answer. I don't
have the answer. No one does. But, even then, I accept it, however
reluctantly. Time is an illusion, or so appears to be the more likely of
two unknowable things in my mind. Everything has happened, and yet, at
this moment, we have not experienced it all. We are finite, infinite,
singular and numerous, like a point that is a line, or a line that is a
point. A line, a ray, a segment... Time is all at once. Or so goes the
Einsteinian belief.
I have
faith, beliefs, opinions, ideas, thoughts, and yet accept many of the
philosophies of the so-called 'Sceptics,' those who followed
philosophical scepticism. But I do not simply reject what I don't know; I
just know that I don't know anything with utter certainty. Certainty
seems to be a very human concept, anyway. All words are human concepts.
And certainty does contradict faith, and so how can one have faith with
utmost certainty? Thusly, why would a philosophical sceptic reject faith
if faith requires uncertainty - the inability to know? If such a
sceptic were to every do anything in their lives, to simply not be dead,
would they not have to have faith that whatever they do will result in
something that they intended, whether or not it does? We invented words
like certainty, absolute, and definite, and yet we cannot say with
certainty that there is certainty? It is merely an estimated meaning of
an estimated thought. But language is constantly used to convey logic,
when language is at its very core not logical, but abstract. Creating a
logical language, as many have tried to do, is then a functional
contradiction. And then it's hard to understand the truest meaning of
contradiction, when contradictions often combine to create the world as
we know it.
I know much, and
yet I know essentially nothing, conceptually. Reality is a matter of
perspective, as is existence, as are beliefs and experiences, and so on.
Your brain reacts the same to a dream as to real-life stimuli. Randomly
firing neurons can create hallucinations that are no different from
reality aside from the fact that no one else can corroborate it happens,
and yet we humans often experience things that others can't corroborate
that, as far as we can possibly know, were in fact real sensations. But
why is one sensation real and another not? We have a name for what is
apparently unreal, a hallucination, and we can often explain its
existence. So these hallucinations that are apparently not real are
therefore a real phenomenon.
These
mind benders that we often get caught up on... They truly prove how
little we do and can know. And yet, if we can't know, how can we prove
it? Contradictions, paradoxes. And we get caught up on something like
skin pigmentation, bone structure...? If we were all blind, I doubt skin
color would've ever even been conceptualised. If we were blind and
couldn't feel, I doubt that bone structure would've been thought of.
Take away the senses, where we get our information, then we take away
reality. And if dreams are processed the same as 'reality,' then at any
time, we could be in a dream and think it was reality. Oh, so rarely
does an individual truly realise they're in a dream before they wake up.
And heard of dreams within a dream? There have even been ideas that
dreams are our souls essentially experiencing another life, making the
life we are 'awake' in, the equivalent to a dream in the other life, or
what we call a 'dream.' And some people lose touch with reality to the
point of just wishing to wake up from the dream, while they are already
awake. Some think that you can wake up through suicide, but for all we
know, that person just killed themselves and that's the end of that. But
the idea that if you die in a dream, then you die in real life, means
that trying to wake up by killing yourself doesn't wake you up, but
simply kills you no matter if you were actually dreaming or not.
The
fickleness of reality, of thoughts, ideas... of everything. Makes
bickering between humans, even wars, seem so... so... idiotic. And yet
the inevitability of idiocy, of the bickering, of the wars, makes the
bickering and the wars necessary. If one tries to destroy a people, in
order to avoid that destruction, one must destroy the destroyer. It was
done in World War II, the Allies versus the Axis. Hitler wished to
destroy peoples, to dominate, to dictate, and so it created the
necessity of warring against him. Conflict is always unnecessary before
the conflict, but almost always necessary after. As long as there are
initiators, there will be people trying to end what they initiated, for
better or worse.
I
just want to live my life... I just want to... make my strife and
struggles, my empathy and compassion, the best parts of me in the worst,
mean something. And everyone wants to mean something, somehow. Free
will... The double-edged sword. Or perhaps more like a rose... with so
many thorns. If you can manage to enjoy the rose without getting pricked
by its thorns, it'll have some benefit. But if you aren't careful, if
you don't handle the rose correctly, you most certainly will get
pricked, and if you continue to misuse it, continue to handle it
correctly, you just might get entangled in the bush like a bunch of
barbed wire. Such a beautiful, delicate thing... with such harmful
potential.
Free will...