We all cover our ugly face with a mask

Bipolar syndrome is real. For someone who have never had an experience with a bipolar person it will be difficult to accept it. No, not quite right there. It is easy to understand and grasp that these kinds of people exist. BUT, the problem lies in detecting these people, especially if hey are among us.

Bipolar disorder can sometimes be very loosely associated with various categories of people having psychological issues. I would like to talk about a subset of these people, who would clinically be categorized into Psychosis, I suppose.

The point of this rant is not really to talk about the signs and symptoms of these people with Psychosis. In fact I want to talk about those people victimized by these people.

To begin with, let’s say I am one. I have done enough reading about his personality and I know enough about my personality to know that I know what I know but I am not ready to let myself be categorized as a crazy woman [moya anhenaa]. I have always had this notion about believing there is a huge untold story behind every mad/crazy woman in our society. Those withdrawn, those carrying symptoms of being afflicted by a jinni or spiritual beings, are not what it really is. There is more to their story. They are labeled crazy by a male dominated society which sees men as right, while women fretting about trivia – making them larger than life by their paranoia.

These past week or so have been mentally taxing on my mind. There is this woman, let me call her Ms Outgoing, who is a successful woman by general standards. She has a good job, she has good status in society, she is out opinionated, she is highly educated, she has an almost adult daughter, she was married. Yes! She was married for almost two decades before she finally snapped and walked out of the marriage with not much of a plan.

Before that happened, in my mind, she was all that I said about her. The day she told me about her walking away, she became all of that and a lot more to me. All of a sudden I saw all her insecurities, all her turmoil, I saw her weep, I heard her mental agony, I understood her. Also, I realized how unbelievable her story was. All sorts of things started to creep in my mind to say that she was also to blame. She must have done something to anger him to that an extent, there would have been something she did wrong, she was wanting more freedom, she was self-centered — in other words I was sympathizing with him. Why? I knew him! He was the easy-going bubbly persona. He was always helpful while she appeared to be withdrawn and uncaring. These thoughts, really the thoughts disturbed me.

Here I was, in the same situation, living with a person who appeared so normal beyond my ‘cold self’, knowing very well the insecurities she has been living within, I was judging her. This has jolted my mind to think deep and hard.

All of that was 3 or 4 years ago. The walking away. Let’s talk about today – the last week. The are separated yet never separate with a child between them. That thread will always be there, that we know – that’s what my fear, my hesitation stems from. Last week, I saw the ugly face of all that could go wrong in our effort to find happiness. Someone a few years ago asked me to think of what will work if I took that step – but all I could think of was what will go wrong — and I was right. What can go wrong is much uglier, much devastating, much damaging.

The strong woman I was talking about earlier, broke down in front of my eyes over and over again. I heard her insecurities, doubts about her decision of years ago; more than that I heard what everyone else had to say about her. Men and women alike were mocking her, saying she was making it all up, that she was insecure, that she was clinging, that she was jealous of him about her much younger girl friend, that she is turning their child against him, that isn’t just her way of punishing him more, and it goes on and on.

She found a confidante in me maybe because I told her I can now understand that I am not insane, that I am not imagining my husband has a mental problem, that she is putting into words what I have only felt but never felt comfortable talking about.

I always knew dealing with the after effect of finding new partners, settling into the routine of life without that over controlling persona even without a new partner, especially surrounded by interfering ‘friends’, neighbours, and relatives would be something of a challenge. Last week I saw first hand how bad it can get.

Also, thinking deep down about this whole drama, I start to think I am not any better I am a victim of psychosis as any other. I can be as scheming, as deceitful, as cruel, and as vengeful as the next person I loathe. I have wanted to be the crazy woman on so many days. I even will fit perfectly into the image of a mad woman when I start to really rant and bellow. I need professional help.

Are there any real professional help? Is that real? How mentally stable are they?