How To Love A Person with Mood Cycling

I promised I would write on the seven deadly sins, and I will. One down, six to go. But at the moment, I got the inkling to write something else. I've read a lot of posts on "how to love a fill in the blank". The subjects have ranged from introverts to entrepreneurs/independents (in the business sense, not politically, though there's probably one for that too) to cross-fitters. I have seen various posts on what to say, or not to say, to someone with a mental health condition, and I've written versions of this myself. However, I haven't yet read - though I'm sure it's out there - one on how to love a person with mood cycling. Since I am a believer that love is everything and the rest is just frosting, I almost couldn't believe that I myself haven't written this before. Of course, every person is an individual, and this certainly won't apply to everyone. I've based it on my condition and things I've heard from others, which tend to be strikingly similar to my feelings.

1. Educate yourself on their condition, and do so properly. Finding a few random articles that support your already-held beliefs does nothing. Ask them how you can learn, where you can find information. When you find it, ask them how it relates to their experience and condition. Just as no two cancers are the same, neither are two mental health conditions.

2. Talk to them with the intent of listening and learning, not the intent of proving yourself right or them wrong. Don't assume you understand their condition, how they feel, the reasons behind their actions or words. Nobody knows what their condition feels like except for them. You may be sympathetic, and if you've gone through something similar you may be empathetic. But you don't know how they feel or think because you aren't them.  

3. Ask if they'd like you to attend a therapy session with them to learn more about their condition. The key here is to learn. The point of the session is for you to truly understand, to hear about their condition from a professional standpoint. It's not to talk about the things they do that affect you, nor to talk about your own issues.  It's for your education and understanding. Not everyone will want this - don't push it if they don't. But to someone that does, going to their therapy session may well be the ultimate expression of love.

4. Love ALL of them. This doesn't mean put up with the cycling because you like "the rest of them". It means appreciate and value them as a person, and this includes their condition. It doesn't mean that you like when they feel this way, nor should you - they're in pain! Nor does it mean you like when it quite possibly gets taken it out on you. It means that you understand that without the emotions such as depression and frustration and irritability and anxiety, there wouldn't be the emotions like deep caring, concern, empathy, and love. If we don't have downs, we don't have the ups and vice versa. Without them, we're numb. I once read a quote that said (paraphrasing): Don't worry when I fight with you,worry when I stop.  It means there's nothing left to fight for.  Cyclers not displaying emotion, any emotion, is not a good sign. It means they have stopped feeling. It's a dangerous place. It may not just apply to their relationships. It may apply to their will to live.

5. We see the world differently. See the beauty in this. I'm much more likely to notice the beauty of a spring day, the wonder of sipping my coffee on my deck and watching my dogs play in the yard in the sun, than I am the laundry that needs to get folded. Logically, I know it needs doing. Emotionally, I can't pull myself away from the dogs and the spring day. This can, I'm sure, be frustrating a task-and-logic-oriented person who wants to get things done and feels like they're picking up the slack. Please understand that, as much as you physically and logically need us to do these things, we emotionally need you to stand there and enjoy the beauty of the sunny day with us. They're not right or wrong.  They're just different. Perhaps work on reaching a compromise, or a way of understanding each other. Maybe, you could even learn from each other.

6. Love us the way WE need to be loved, not the way you do. This goes along with the point above. Not everyone feels, or expresses, love the same way. Expensive things do nothing for me. Emotional support does wonders. So while someone else might feel loved by receiving expensive gifts, I feel loved by having someone hold me when I cry and being sad that I hurt. It takes work, and effective communication, to learn how each other best feels loved.

7. Don't see the things you do for us as sacrificing. See them as loving. It's that simple. If you love someone, you want them to be able to be their true self (assuming it's not illegal or immoral), without feeling guilty or inferior. Of course, love is full of hard work and some compromise, because there are no two people who see every single thing eye to eye. But nobody wants to be a burden to the one they love. Don't make us feel that way.

8. Sometimes, you may just have to let go. I HATE to write this. I hate to say "maybe you should just leave a suffering person with a mood cycling disorder because you can't deal with it". But we all deserve someone who loves us for exactly who we are, not despite it. We all want happiness. And if you truly feel the two of you will just never be compatible, then perhaps, it's best to calmly, civilly part ways. No big fight and storm out, yelling how they're impossible and crazy. But truly, not everyone is right for each other. It's not fair to them, or you, to try to drag it on if you're not. It's only hurting you both, and the end result will be pain and resentment. 

Seven Deadly Sins - Envy

I got the idea to blog on the seven deadly sins. While it's not directly related to mental health, it is. There are a lot of these sins attributed, in some way or another, to those of us who cycle. After all, we tend to be extremists and many of the deadly sins consist of normal feelings or actions taken to the extreme. I thought I'd address each of them as they often pertain to mental health, along with the misconceptions and the ways to deal with them.

Envy. People often get it confused with jealousy. It is not. Envy concerns something, or a particular characteristic of someone,  that you wish you had. For instance, a higher salary or bigger house or apparent happiness. It can also involve lack of something - I wish I didn't have this debt, this illness, this challenge. Jealousy, on the other hand, involves a third party - i.e. you're spouse is animatedly talking with an attractive person of the opposite sex instead of you, and you feel jealous. That attractive person is the third party. Jealousy is often based on the fear of something undesirable happening. People feel jealous when they feel threatened. Envy does not involve this.

If you ask someone with a mental health condition if they're envious of people who don't have to deal with it, I'd venture to guess that most, if they're being honest, would say yes. The exception, perhaps, might be a highly religious person who thinks they were given their illness for a reason and they're "right where they're supposed to be" (ah, how I hate this phrase). Even those of us who use our conditions for good - to advocate for awareness, to help support others - probably, at least on days of bad cycling, wish we didn't have to deal with our illnesses. In that sense, we envy the "normal" people. Just as a severely diabetic person with a massive sweet tooth probably envies those who can eat their favorite dessert while they can't.  If you think you're immune to this, next time you have the stomach flu, see how well you do not envying the people who aren't hugging the toilet for hours at a time.  It's natural to want to feel well, and frustrating to be ill and not be able to fix it.

Envy isn't all bad. It can drive us to work hard towards our goals. If you're envious of someone's job or position in life, it can help you to look at them as an example and find ways that you can get there. Maybe it's possible, and maybe it's not, but it can motivate. And perhaps you don't achieve what the other person has, but find something else along the way. In terms of mental health, envy of those who feel better can help us continue treatment even when it's difficult, even when the meds make us sick and we feel too depressed to get out of bed and go to therapy.

Where envy is destructive is when it takes us away from our true selves. I have been guilty of being envious of people who, by lack of condition and general genetics, have a relaxed, laid back personality, who are more spontaneous, who can continually be light hearted. I have, at times, tried unsuccessfully to achieve this, and gotten mad and frustrated at myself for not being able to. The reason is simple: I'm not made that way. Between birth-given personality and my cyclothymia, I cannot be as chilled and relaxed as the majority of people. I mean, I have to set alarms numerous times a day to stop and take medication. Nothing says fun and spontaneous by having a calendar alert and a days of the week pill box, right? I am naturally created to swing between hypomania and depression, sometimes several times a day. Inherently, this eliminates chill mode.

And so, in the end, the envy of something I can never be can eat me alive. Or I can accept it. I can use it to set goals, to push me forward, but not to try to change my personality, or my brain chemicals. Perhaps I'll always be a bit envious of those who don't have to deal with this. But I also know that we all fight our own battles, and perhaps they are equally envious of some trait of mine that they wish they had. I guess I'll never know. 

When Things Go Wrong As They Sometimes Will

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will ... It's a line from one of my favorite inspirational pieces, the poem Don't Quit. It felt appropriate for this post.

Eight years ago this week, the last week of January 2007, my marriage ended. Or rather, it officially, unofficially ended (we were officially divorced a year later). On January 26, 2007, I packed up my things in a rudimentary fashion - whatever I could fit into a suitcase for the time being - and I moved out of the house in Merchantville, New Jersey that I had shared with my husband for the past three and a half years.

There was no blow up fight, no storming out, no grand finale of sorts. The night before we'd had a serious, mature, important but friendly talk - one that we'd agreed earlier in the day was needed. It was no surprise for either of us. In fact, we'd taken a vacation to Brazil over Christmas and New Years just weeks before, and despite it being one of our best trips, we talked about how it may well be our last together. We were prepared, or as prepared as anyone can be for the end of their marriage. In retrospect, I think everyone's about as prepared for the end of their marriage as they were for the beginning of it, which is to say, not at all. We'd talked, I'd cried, despite being the one who wanted this ending more, he'd held me.  It was, ironically, the closest we'd felt to each other probably in a couple of years. We didn't hate each other. We didn't even dislike each other. We were friends even, at least for a while, though we have since lost touch. But we just didn't want to be married to each other. Or rather, I didn't want to be in the marriage and my misery made him understand that it was best for us not to be together. I had no doubt he would have stayed if I had. He loved me much more than I gave him credit for - I know that now, though I didn't see it then. As I gathered my things, for the first time ever, I saw him cry. He told me he felt like a piece of his soul was dying. My ex-husband may be many things, but poetic and outwardly emotional are not among them by any means. For that reason, that single sentence has stayed with me. While it has occasionally, over the years, made me feel guilty, I'm glad to remember it. It reminds that things weren't always bad with him which, after a divorce, even one as amicable as ours, can be tough to remember.

Life is queer with its twists and turns... Cinn (my dog) and I restarted our lives in a one-bedroom apartment. We adjusted nicely, and after a year and a half I met my now-ex fiance. I fell madly in love with someone who was in many ways so different from my ex-husband. He was my partner, my other half, and I thought I had found the rest of my life. In the end, we broke each others' hearts. Or rather, the situation did. I left my marriage because there wasn't enough love on my end. I believe, ultimately, my engagement ended because there was so much love that it became toxic.

As every one of us sometimes learns... Cinn and I restarted our lives again. I started casually dating a friend of mine. Like those before him, it was his differences that attracted me. He was my continually positive cheerleader and believed in me even when I didn't.  I ended up hurt and I blame myself for much of that - he'd warned me all along, and as usual, I thought I could make it right if I tried really, really hard. At heart, I'm a fixer. One would think that after a divorce and a broken engagement I would realize that I didn't have this power, but it appears I'm a slow learner. Or perhaps a hopeless romantic. Probably a little of both. Like the times before, there was no bad blood. We were friends, as we always had been.

I took a break from dating, and everyone that cared about me said "thank the dear lord". I spent time growing my circle of girl friends for pretty much the first time since middle school - I've always been one of the guys and had just a couple of close girl friends, but I actually managed a circle of girlfriends who didn't make me want to strangle them for being too girly.

After significant girl friends time, I decided I didn't think men were the devil incarnate and decided to date again. I met my current boyfriend. We clicked right away, and began spending a lot of time together. A couple months later I met his son. I fell in love with them both. Today, I find it ironic that the issue of children was one of the driving factors of my divorce, yet this little boy has now so stolen my heart and having him in my life seems so natural.

This past spring, as all things do, life came almost full circle. I moved from Philly back to Jersey into a house with my boyfriend, his son, and our two dogs. We had a real Christmas tree this past holiday and hosted Christmas morning, something I'd never done even when married. This past year I also started working part time for a conference center - still also doing my travel business - and once again work a job with coworkers, where I have to report at a certain time and have a manager, just like I had when I got married. I'm growing in this job and loving it more every day (I don't think my coworkers read this, so this isn't BS, I swear).

Life isn't perfect. It's never perfect. If it were, it wouldn't be life. We wouldn't be living and learning and growing. I wouldn't want a perfect life. I'd be constantly looking over my shoulder wondering when it was going to turn, and quite honestly, knowing me, I'd probably be bored. I wouldn't change the things that have happened in my life. And I say "have happened", but honestly, I was an active part of many of them them. I chose to be in each of the situations above, I chose my actions in them and my reactions to them. I didn't choose everything that happened in them, but I chose to learn from them. Now, eight years after I walked out of my house and my marriage, I'm finding myself once again. After years of feeling lost, I feel like I've come back. I hope, this time, I'm here to stay.

You never can tell how close you are
It may be near when it seems so far
So stick to your fight when you're hardest hit 
It's when things seem the worst that you must not quit. 

Don't Tell Me I'm Not Resilient - A Response to an Infuriating Article

A friend recently brought to my attention an article about resilience, and the fact that it indicated that people were either depressed OR resilient, but seemingly impossible of being both. I'm always interested in mental health themed information, and aggravated about how the media butchers it, and so I read. I was immediately disturbed by the fact that it was an article on PBS/WHYY. This is channel/station that I've generally respected and enjoyed for being educational, and actually educational in the downfall of so many other channels that sensationalized and celebritized (is that a word?) "education" ... Ahem, I'm looking at you, A&E, and basically all publicly broadcasted News programs. But I digress. Back to the article itself.

Before I continue, let me say that the this article begins with a story about a local woman who survived a violent childhood and being kidnapped in Somalia as an adult. The fact that she is still alive, let alone sharing her story, is a most certainly a testament to her resilience, and anything I say here is in no way to take away from the horrific experiences she's had and her ability to pull through them. She is heroic and courageous and in fact, it's not she who says anything that upsets me in the least. She actually discusses the dark place she was in, and pulling out of it. She herself at no point that I see here uses the word resilient, nor furthers the stigma about depression. It is, rather, everyone else that seems to have a hand in this article that does that.

Basically, the theme of the article is that when going through something difficult/terrible/terrifying, you can either become depressed or resilient. Like it's choice. Like if you just had an attitude adjustment, you could be resilient instead of depressed. Statements like this one, describing a test in which people are looking at a computer and matching emotions to pictures of faces they're show, fill the article.

“The idea is, someone who is depressed is biased towards picking up negative emotion, and against positive emotion,” Elliot says. “We expect to see the opposite in people who are resilient.”

Depressed people pick negative. Resilient people pick the opposite. The fact that they use these two as counter-examples is enough in and of itself to state their point - depressed people and resilient people are not one in the same. They continue this type of talk, describing how people can go through terrible things and yet they're not depressed, while others are. Let me clue them in on some brain science: that's because depression is about chemistry and genetics, a**holes. It's not a choice, it's not an attitude, it's not smiling and looking on the sunny side vs "woah is me". 

I have one thing (in addition to the expletive above) to say to both the researchers that stated these "facts" and the people that chose to commit it to paper... er, screen... as if it were true: you clearly have no idea what depression actually is. So, let me tell you about depression and resilience. 

Every single day we go through the exact same world as you do - except with a genetic, medical, physical condition that makes it tough, sometimes excruciating, to get out of bed, get dressed, shower, eat, go to work, interact, feel any emotion, think straight, focus, and do everything else that's required. Some days everything we're doing feels meaningless, life feels pointless, and we feel worthless. BUT WE DO IT ANYWAYS. Every day.  And not just because we have to, but because we are pushing through, hour by hour, sometimes minute by minute or second by second. Just as Ms. Lindhout describes she did during her ordeal. She doesn't say "I jumped for joy each day; life seemed wonderful." She says: 

"And I never knew if I could make it through the day. So I would break it down and ask myself, ‘Can I get through the next minute?’ ”

In other words, she did exactly as I've described above. Exactly what people with depression, and other mental health conditions, do all the time. Break it down to the smallest possible piece you can and get through, because that's all you can do. Yet she's resilient, and we're not? Bullshit. 

Help Me Embarrass Myself in the Name of Suicide Prevention

As I've mentioned previously, I've signed up for the Out of Darkness Overnight Walk for suicide prevention and awareness again this year. I've already written a blog asking for donations and explaining the cause. Asking for money is always tough for me - even for such a worthwhile, and literally life-saving cause. So, inspired a bit by the ALS ice bucket challenge (naysayers, please hold your tongues here, I've also written a blog asking people to stop being so negative about that), I thought it would be easier to ask for money if I created some sort of challenge myself.

I tried to come up with something creative, but it seems my creativity is limited to the written word, and perhaps things such as vision boards and photo books. However, I have a lot of creative friends and family, and also a lot of friends and family that would thoroughly enjoy watching me embarrass myself. So given that, I thought it would be me more fun if I let you guys come up with the challenges.

Here are the rules:

1. Create a challenge that you'd like to see me do, along with the dollar amount that you'll donate to my cause if I complete it.

2. If I choose to accept the challenge, I will attempt it, and video it as proof.

3. If I complete it, you then donate the money to my walk fund as promised.

4. If I attempt and am for some reason unable to complete it successfully, you can choose to still donate anyways (A for effort kind of thing) or create another challenge for me to attempt for the same amount.

5. I will post the videos of the challenges on social media, and if you'd like, your name as the challenger. You can choose if you'd like me to post your donated amount or not. I will only post information you'd like me to. If you'd prefer nothing be posted (including the video), I can send you the video via text or email to confirm that I completed the challenge.

Now, the rules for the actual challenge proposals:

1. It cannot be anything that could lose me my job/clients.

2. It cannot be illegal or immoral (this includes eating meat, people. Personally, for myself, I have a moral aversion to eating meat).

3. It doesn't have to be funny. It can be anything you choose. People just tend to like to see me embarrass myself, so I figure they'll trend in that direction.

4. It cannot negatively affect another human or living being.

5. I must be fully clothed, or at least clothed enough that rule numbers 1 and 2 are still applicable. (e.g. I'll not go streaking Old School style through the neighborhood.)

6. It should be something I at least have a chance of physically being able to do - I'm 5'0 in heels. I will never be able to slam dunk a basketball without some sort of assistance.

I will accept challenges via this blog, on Facebook, Twitter, email, or text (if I know you personally). If you are super nice, and don't want to see me embarrass myself, you are welcome to just donate, of course. Whether you request a challenge or not, here is the link for donation.

Thanks in advance, and I look forward (or not!) to seeing what you all come up with! 

Things You Want to Know About Mental Health But Are Afraid to Ask - Part 2

A while back, I wrote the part one of this blog. I have found that not everyone who is uneducated about mental health wants to be so. There is a lot of information and propaganda out there (by "there", I mean the internet and media) and it can be hard to tell the accurate from the total crap. There's so much BS in the public eye about how those with mental illness are dangerous people who go on shooting sprees at schools, act like animals, and should be locked away (see NAMI's response to such comments from both Dr. Phil and NBC's Brian Williams), that it's easy for people to unintentionally start forming a negative opinion, a stigma.

Often, I find that it's not that people are intentionally ignorant, purposely and steadfastly believing these kinds of falsities, as it is that they're afraid to ask. It's been taboo. It's something people have so long swept under the rug, not discussed about themselves or others, that it's thought poor form to ask about - like asking one's weight or age. We can't clear up these stigmas unless we talk about them, and since people seem afraid to ask, I feel it's my role to go ahead and take the initiative. So, here you have part two of Things You Want to Know About Mental Health But Are Afraid to Ask.

• Does your condition make you angry? Violent? Angry, yes. Violent, no. Not unless you count hitting a pillow in frustration, which, by the way, is a therapist approved technique for anger and energy release. It's NOT the same as hitting a person or an animal or any other living being. It's more like, say, going to a boxing class or hitting a heavy bag. People do this all the time, for fun, and we don't say "oh that person takes cardio kickboxing, they must be violent!" If you actually look at the facts, very few people with mental health conditions display the type of violence that the media likes to portray. And there are PLENTY of horrendously violent people who do not have a diagnosed mental health condition. What does the media have to say about them? 

• What does depression feel like? Are you always really sad? No, actually. Or rather, not for me personally. Depression is like any other medical condition - it exhibits itself a bit differently in each person. For me, it's not sadness. It's nothingness. I simply don't care. I don't care what I look like or what I'm doing or what I'm eating. I don't feel happy, but I don't feel sad. I just don't feel. It's like something came in and sucked out my emotions, leaving a giant, empty void in its place. It's a thousand times more scary, and debilitating, than actual sadness. 

• What's the worst thing about having a mental health condition? Ummm, everything, pretty much. But I would say the trouble that I have had finding myself at times, and the fact that I see the world so differently than so many people, is toughest to deal with. I've come to know the symptoms of my depression, hypomania, anxiety. With medication, therapy, writing, yoga, meditation, and a host of other factors (like a regular sleep, meal, and workout schedule), I can generally manage that. Generally. But feeling lost, at times like you don't know who you are, like you don't recognize yourself, like you have this "real" self that's buried so far down that people don't actually believe it's real, is very tough. Feeling like nobody sees the world the way you do, like you're alone in a crowd of thousands, is very lonely. 

• How do you feel about medication? Yippee! Woo hoo! Seriously, medication has helped me tremendously. I resisted for a long time, determined to fix it on my own. Then I actually got diagnosed.When my condition was explained to me, I realized it was a medical condition, lifelong, and that I'd be dealing with it every single day. I accepted that, like with any other medical condition, sometimes you need medication.  I've never looked back. I'm thankful every single day that there are meds that help me. Some aren't so lucky. Some people never find a medication that works for them, or have side effects so bad that they'd rather deal with their cycling. I have been, knock on wood, very lucky thus far with my medications. 

• What are the side effects of medication? As I said above, as far as mental health medications go, my side effects are pretty "minor". I put that in quotes because everything's relative. I get nauseous, dizzy, disoriented, continually exhausted. My tongue and lips and occasionally my hands and feet get that numb, pins and needles feeling after I take my meds. I sweat like hell when I sleep, which is an all-too-common side effect of these types of meds. I run the risk of hyponatremia, or low blood sodium which, at it's worse, can cause seizures and at it's best makes me feel nauseous, dizzy, and disoriented (on top of those same effects of the medication). There's also the very rare risk of developing Stevens-Johnson syndrome, a potentially fatal skin rash, though it's not a side effect that I've ever lost sleep over, the chance is so slim. Like I said, in the grand scheme, not so bad. Seriously. 

• What's therapy like? Will you always have to go? It's amazing. It allows me to talk to someone, tell them anything and everything, without them judging or having any bias. Let's face it, most of our friends and family are biased in our direction, as they should be. In my therapist, I have an objective ally; we both want the same thing - for me to live a happy, healthy life - and she has the tools and training to tell me when I'm going astray of that goal, even if it's not what I want to hear. Will I always have to go? I don't know, maybe. But if I do, that's ok with me. 

Have a question? Feel free to ask. I'm not shy, and I am happy to answer questions as best as I can. As a necessary CYA disclaimer, I'm not a medical doctor nor am I a licensed psychologist/counselor. I speak strictly from my experience and the experience I have in helping oversee an online support group for mental health. So go ahead, throw 'em at me. If you'd like to ask incognito, feel free to email them to me or Facebook message my Lilies and Elephants page (you can also post as "anonymous"). 

Looking For the Silver Lining

I write often about the negatives of having a mental health condition. Because honestly, there are many negatives, and I think it's important to be open and honest about them - how else can we fight stigma. However, having cyclothymia has been a significant learning experience, and while I do not want to use the word positive in conjunction with having a chronic, lifelong medical condition, I have to say, I've made some strides personally that I'm not sure I would have if it wasn't for the every day battle of mood cycling.

• I've learned to have a sense of humor about myself. How can you not? The options are to laugh at yourself first, or have other people do it for you. I've learned that when you call yourself out on all of your quirks, your behaviors, your symptoms, etc, it takes the power away from anyone who was planning to use it against you. And so, you laugh. 

• I have learned not to take little things for granted. It's amazing to wake up and not feel depressed or hypomanic.  It's fantastic to go into a social setting and not feel like the walls are closing in. It feels wonderful to laugh, to cry happy tears instead of sad ones. I know people who have lost loved ones to the battle of depression and mood cycling. I am thankful every day that I am still alive. I have now made suicide awareness and prevention one of my greatest causes. 

• I have learned to be myself. I don't see the world the way others do, and vice versa. I used to try. Now I just say &%*^ it, this is me. Like it or don't. It's a shame if you don't, but you know what? I can't change the way you think. I can only change my reaction to it. And my reaction these days is to say, "I'm sorry we can't see eye to eye on our opinions of me." 

• I have made friends in the mental health community that I never would have been in touch with otherwise. We've bonded over tweets, texts, and online groups, often because we literally live thousands of miles apart. Many times, these are the only people who I can talk to when I have a bad cycle that will truly understand. They can empathize, instead of just sympathize. These wonderful people would never have come into my life but for my cyclothymia. 

• I have learned that, as the saying goes, everyone is fighting their own battle. I've been judged and stigmatized for mine. I refuse to do that to others. Now, I'm much more able to say "I know that person was a jerk to me, but maybe he/she is going through something really rough. Maybe they have no confidence and therefore have to put me down to feel good. That's a shame. I feel sorry for him/her." I can distance myself from it more easily and look at the whole picture instead of casting blame. 

• I have learned to express myself creatively. There are people who are against the "mood cyclers are more creative" thought, and I can understand that. People don't want to connect their disease to themselves intrinsically. But I personally feel that, if it isn't specifically linked to my creative genes, it's helped me to open them up. By accepting my condition, I've allowed my brain to expand in directions I hadn't before, and I've embraced it.  The directions in which my brain extends cause enough trouble - I might as well let it be advantageous where it can.

Do not think, for a second, that I enjoy having cyclothymia. It sucks, to be plain honest. I battle it every day of my life, and will continue to do so until the day I die. But when you are diagnosed with a condition such as this, you have two choices: you can throw a pity party, wish you were "normal", and constantly try to combat it, or you can embrace it, and get what good you can from it. To me, it's a clear choice... live my life feeling frustrated and inferior, or grow from it. I've chosen the latter.