I don’t have to feel or think perfectly to thrive. I have a bipolar disorder and I know certain symptoms persist but I ignore them and realize it is my brain tricking me.
People who are older understand this perfectly. Their mobility may have become limited and also have other diminishing illnesses but that is okay. You do your best and you do not complain.
Sure every disturbing thought of mine can be extinguished but at a heavy price: I no longer would be able to function at the drug regiment (???) that would accomplish that.
I just know my subconscious can annoy me with disturbing thoughts that make me anxious but so what. I do take the meds that lower this threshold.
I refuse not to do the things that I enjoy simply because my brain (or subconscious) is not totally cooperating. I still do what gives me pleasure as much as I can realizing fully there are times it will be more difficult to do certain things.
At certain times I avoid crowded areas particularly restaurants fully aware that in certain states it will be more difficult to deal with my thoughts but If I have to go out to dinner I just go.
Somewhere your personality can be found in that “book” some psychiatrists use but so what. Every person is different and flawed. You (and other people) simply have to accept that.
Tags: accept yourself, anxious, bipolar disorder, brain tricking me, crowded areas, disturbing thoughts, do your best, drug regimen, everyone is different, everyone is flawed, illnesses, medications, meds, my thoughts, older people, pleasure, psychiatrist, subconscious, symptoms, think perfectly, thrive, your personality
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What I remember about Greystone (going back forty years) is the locked doors. Each one led to another dismal ward. Of course, I did not have any of the keys. I had no freedom. Everything was taken away from me. I was told when to get up, when to eat and what medications I had to take. In those days when you were in a manic state they always pumped you up with Thorazine, which was a real “downer”. It felt like punishment. It was not even my fault. Almost all the drugs to treat bipolar disorder now did not exist then. I remember very well having almost all my civil rights taken away from me. There was not even a phone on the ward. I needed special permission to go downstairs and make a call. I was treated like a prisoner. Those were some of the memories I had of my hospitalization.