It is possible for me to be optimistic but my optimism, more often than not is directed towards everyone else, which has been a part of my bipolar-ism for my life time.
Possibly being an eldest child has given me the skill to be strong for others or to have an ear free to listen, maybe even enough wisdom to give others the optimism needed to keep their life’s journey on track. I had no one to be my sounding board nevertheless it is an art I have mastered for others and if there was a degree of sorts I would have a PHD.
Having enough optimism to make the world go around yet unable to take it on board myself.
Maybe I am hiding behind an invisible barrier of confidence, mindfulness, encouragement, and enthusiasm. I have people I have met in the line for the bank teller and these people can share todays problem with me in a blink. I must have a face that can ease a soul because a small hello to a stranger becomes a full-blown conversation and within these random words exchanged, I have listened, shared their moment and they felt comfortable enough to share with me.
I am not the half full half empty glass of optimism. Having the mindset to keep going when everything is hopeless and closing in. This is something I admire in people. Something I can project to the those in my situation but were not built into my character.
There have been conversations where I have been needed to help others with the question of whether they should live, what is there to live for or why is life so hard. All these questions I have pondered myself. I have been able to answer these questions with assurances that life would not be the same without them. That there is much to live for. There is a big wide world to see. A family to make, even if it is only a fur baby family. I will try to explain that although the lessons up until now have been hard that by taking another step forward means you are leaving the tough stuff in the dust.
HA! Even writing these words I can’t put them towards myself, they don’t seem to go with me, Veronica. On one hand these are words I have been told, someone has shown me optimism in the face of my Bipolar Disorder but my Bipolar Disorder makes it so difficult to take their advice. If that stranger who used my optimism in the queue at the teller knew that it was me in desperate need of someone to listen to my troubles, that I was crumbling on the inside. Would they be able to project the optimism that I show onto me?
I can have optimistic moments with myself but they come with one thing that I love but I also hate, mania. Everything is good, fast, and free. There is nothing that can hurt me and nothing that will bring me down (at least for the duration). I am a different person, not the best person but optimistic none the less. Now most will know that there is not much good that will come from a manic episode but the optimism projected on my life and love at that time makes riddled sense. (Mania is a post for another day)
Today the struggle has been on the fore front, I have been lost in my thoughts and angry with myself but smiling and being the best bipolar optimist around.