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Friday, Dec. 05, 2003 - 11:09 p.m. INVISIBLE MAN I do not have anyone I can call a real friend here in Baton Rouge, so much of the time I keep trying to think of ways to get one. It is all very silly actually. I makes sense that a person like me should be able to find friends easily; after all, I am a friendly guy, so I think. Yet the simple goal of creating that badly desired network of friends is nowhere near fruition. I suppose one approach would be to stop trying altogether, but then again, the reason why I am trying now is because not trying before is the reason I got my current situation. Needless to say, I am lonely. I have no one I can just go out and talk to about my problems. So last night I tried something new. Actually, it is something I did back in Houston shortly after I was diagnosed as bipolar. I called an organizer of a bipolar support group. My main fear of joining one of these groups is that somehow word that I am bipolar would leak back to where I work. Therefore, when I spoke to the organizer on the phone last night, I did my best to explain my situation and how important confidentiality was to me. Being publicly bipolar herself, she seemed to find it difficult to relate to my situation. I talked to her at length and though I still was not completely comfortable, based on the small size of the group that would be meeting, I decided I would go anyway. I remember attending sessions with a support group in Houston four years ago. The vast majority of those that attended were basically not able to function normally in the outside world. For whatever reason, their treatments were not working well for them and their symptoms prevented them from holding down jobs and leading normal lives. At the time, I was on four times as much medication as I am on now, so I was basically just like them, though I was still employed and my job was slowly slipping through my fingers. I remember wondering if that was what I had to look forward to for the rest of my life. Would I too end up being an unemployed zombie frequenting these meetings? Actually, I found attending these sessions to be slightly depressing because I saw no one there that inspired me. Since I moved back to Louisiana and received proper treatment, I have been a well-functioning individual. Knowing that Baton Rouge is a much smaller town than Houston and that a state employee could find out where I worked if one attended a meeting, I saw no reason to risk exposing my disorder. My attitude had been that because I am a normal-functioning person, going to such meetings should not be necessary for me. Nevertheless, I was lonely and wanted people with something in common with me to talk to. The small group of people I met this time were pretty much in the same situation as those in Houston. None of them could hold down a full-time job, they still complained of their symptoms, and they were on loads of medication. I arrived in my suit, explained to them my own experiences with the disorder, and basically told them that I was fully treated and not having any difficulties. I knew what they were going through, but at the same time I felt terrible because I was defying the odds right in their presence. When things are going so well for me, what right do I have to complain? I genuinely care for these people because I know what they are going through, and I believe that in some way I can help them, even if that means just giving them someone to talk to. I just need to overcome my fear of being known as someone with this illness even though I lack the symptoms. Perhaps this fear is why I have not been able to make friends. |