The recovery I want to achieve means attaining the level of control and stability I felt when I was last well. It means simply getting on with my life. And at the moment I can’t do that, because the side effects of the meds are almost as disabling as the original symptoms were. Obviously I am happy that I have very few bipolar symptoms now. And so I understand why people keep telling me that I should be proud of how far I have come since this time last year. But here’s the thing: compared with where I was, yes, remission is great. Fantastic. But that’s not my goal. I just want to feel normal, instead of participating in this this ceaseless “choose your own adventure” life of trying to work out the potential consequences of every decision. And so I find it difficult to be positive about where I am right now. True, I’ve managed to get off the rollercoaster, but I’m still hoping to leave the theme park. Or, to put it another way, I may have walked 500 miles. But to get back to what feels like the “real me”, I have yet to walk 500 more. Step by effortful step.

This is only the final glimpse of a realization those with a disability like bipolar or BPD fight each day.  I must stress that you go read the full story so that you may understand where this realization comes from.  You’ll find it over on Miss Charlotte’s blog: Purple Persuasion.

Her words to me on writing this post, stresses why it is so important for it to be shared:

Some people use the terms interchangeable but I think they are different. I wanted to show how when you have a disability it carries on affecting your life even when you are relatively “well”.