Two months ago, my life was exceedingly dull. I used to wake up quite early and turn on the TV most days. I would find something mind numbing or sit through endless repeats of the bad news. I do care but I don't need to know the woes of the world. The fact that I know them doesn't make any difference. It just numbs my brain.
I have hardly watched a news programme in these two months. Life still goes on. I get enough news from the radio's hourly bulletins or the breaking news on twitter. I was aware of Twitter because it was mentioned a lot on the show "Working Lunch". It got my interest and I eventually tried it. I have never looked back. I was never a fan of chat rooms but Twitter is in one sense a chat room. Each persons view of Twitter is different because you only see posts by people you are following. If someome doesn't meet your standards, you can un-follow them and they are gone. I am following 400 people and that may sound chaotic. Not everyone is on at the same time, so you only see a subset of the people you follow.
I find it fascinating how you can follow a variety of people. Some may be nice people, some may be amusing, some may be controversial and some may be OTT. You can reply to anyone but there is no guarantee that they will see it. Celebs with hundreds of thousands of followers are unlikely to see your message unless they are following you. For a celeb to follow you takes a stroke of luck, a fluke of timing. I now have 330 followers and I am very proud of that. Not long ago, I was struggling to reach the 100 barrier. Some people follow me because they might sell me something but a good number like what I am saying. They like my integrity and maybe my humour.
I have rambled on as is my habit. Yesterday I finalized my life story. That is unless one of my readers finds something glaringly wrong. In the time I have been on Twitter, I have written a 14,000 word story from scratch. It has always been floating about in my head and it feels good to have gottten it out. This is largely due to the support I received from my new friends on Twitter. Friends vary from the casual to those who you want to say hello to. Most satisfying are the occasional unsolicited messages from someone you don't know. They may have seen your blog entries. That makes me feel so good because I basically like to help people.
I signed up yesterday with Xlibris of Philadelphia to publish my story in a book with supporting colour photos. I don't think self publishing is a cheat. It is a not a work of fiction. I hope that my story informs and helps people. I hope they can see how a chaotic life can be made worse by a chaotic illness. I have lived for 27 years in a world of my own. Only I knew my innermost secrets and thoughts. Now that others know everything, I feel so liberated. I have nothing else to lose. I have lots to gain. My book should hit the market in 3-4 months depending how the process goes. I am not the world's best writer. I am not even a good writer. I do have a talent for expressing my experience in words. What I lack in flowery prose, I make up for in insight. My excerpts from the book have already generated a lot of interest. It may be a short book in the long term, but every sentence will count.
Not long ago I was trying to find a reason to get up next morning. I could see no future in my life. I was not suicidal but I lacked a core of hope. On one hand, I was quite comfortable. On the other, I didn't care if I woke up next day. Writing my story and making many online friends has given me a new hope and confidence. I am lucky because I could still be vegetating in my recliner listening to how many troups were killed or how the markets are in a tail spin.
It was a pure chance that I got onto Twitter. I feel so lucky to have written my story. My story is a roller coaster ride. It may sound odd to the non-bipolar. It was odd. That's the whole point. I wasn't on some 27 year flight of fancy. I didn't want to wreck my life and a very good career. I am ill and I have been for at least 27 years. It does not show when I walk down the street, when I buy groceries, when I meet new people. I am as ill as anyone with cancer, diabetes, epilepsy or any number of physical ailments. I don't get full remission like some people. I am Bipolar for life. It is life sentence. People as a whole don't care. They will back away rather than engage with you. Some people are special and they can empathise, even when they are being hurt. I have had several notable people in my life who stayed with me through thick and thin. The sad truth is that even these people drift away in the end. I have been lucky to have special friends at key points of my illness, especially now. Now I have got the story in a good shape, I hope I can get my sleep into shape and spend some restful days.
In the words of Led Zeppelin, I need to ramble on. My blogs may be "different" but I hope they are entertaining and thought provoking. I think I have a lot to say but I have never said it. I may have quite a back log.
Bye for now. Enjoy.
p.s. I only came out 56% mentally ill in a Facebook test. Maybe there is hope.