Welcome to Sharudin Jamal Blogspot

More than a decade ago, I was diagnosed of having a peculiar illness known as Bipolar Affected Disorder. My world as I known it crumbled; I lost my business, then my job and later my sense of purpose. It was during this dark moments I rediscovered the joy of running and writing. Most of the articles here are about my rekindled pleasure of hitting the tarmac, my coming to terms with the illness and my discovery of the meaning of life.

I always on the lookout for inspirations to write in these three areas with the hope that they will shed new ray of hope to others who are in the same position as I am.

Do keep in touch if you feel connected through these essays.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Back to Being Normal

There is one peculiar thing about being a Bipolar is that you don't ever realize when you are being in the mania  mode.  That is why I like writing a blog.  With a blog, I can analyze my postings and see when the mania started to escalate.  I can then delete the posts that I think that are off the wall.  This is not the first time it happened.  This blog was scraped twice and I had to start all over again because the contents were too esoteric.  The sad thing is, I also unintentionally deleted the well-researched articles too.

This time I deleted 11 postings.  Not that they are not credible but rather they are off tangent from the thinking of the masses.  I would like to share everything about being me.  However, I am concerned that the readers may not be able to relate to my thoughts.

Being a Bipolar is like walking a tightrope.  I got to balance between fantasy and reality.  To me the line between these two is blurry.  That is what makes it interesting.  I can talk to various imaginary friends and things.  For example, I can have a meaningful conversation with my neurons and cerebellum.  I can talk to water and I can have as Napoleon Hill suggested in the book Think and Grow Rich, an "Invisible Counselors."  These are imaginary cabinet members that advice me on my daily actions.

I regard this ability to have conversations with various unforeseeable beings as a gift.  I know they are a figment of my imagination, but I treat them as real.  That way I am able to resonate on my thoughts as if I am standing in a room full of mirrors, reflecting on the various facades.

It's not all a bed of roses, though.  Sometimes the brain got hyperactive.  When that happens, I cannot regulate the surge of dopamine.  Just the right amount, the dopamine makes a person motivated.  Too much, it leads to psychosis.  Most of the time, I lead a happy and humorous life.  What do you expect?  I'm a cartoonist.  But when the surge happened, I was consumed by surmounting rage.  It was a roller coaster ride of anger and sadness.  I was fortunate to be on medication.  At least it tapers of the mood swings by regulating the dopamine.

To be honest, I like being in the mania state.  It's a happy place to be.  The world seems funnier and more sensible.  I became more motivated and uplifted.  After 17 years, I now can understand my illness better.  It comes in waves or cycles.  In the past, without proper medication, the amplitude was higher.  Nowadays they are just like the waves sweeping by the beach.  More calm and sedated.  

I still cannot control the mania, though.  I can only look back at the aftermath and take corrective action post event.  If I can control the illness, then, it won't be considered an illness, wouldn't it?  Nonetheless, this is my life warts and all.  I had come to terms with this illness.  It won't go away.  So I might as well accept it as part of my well-being.

"Wow... oh... wow..."

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