Summary

The article describes the author's personal struggle with bipolar anger, which they personify as an internal "monster" that can be unpredictable and destructive.

Abstract

The author of the article vividly portrays the experience of living with bipolar disorder, particularly the intense anger that can accompany it. They describe this anger as a separate entity, a "monster" that can take control without warning, leading to feelings of powerlessness and fear. The author explains how this monster can lash out verbally, cause emotional harm to others, and leave a trail of destruction, forcing the author to later clean up the mess. The unpredictability of the monster's awakening, triggered by seemingly minor incidents, adds to the distress. Despite knowing that the anger is a part of their condition, the author emphasizes the difficulty of managing it and the lack of understanding from others, which can exacerbate the stigma surrounding bipolar disorder. The author concludes with a message of resilience, acknowledging the need for patience and the hope that the true self will emerge once the anger subsides.

Opinions

The author expresses a deep-seated fear of their bipolar anger, even after decades of treatment.
They feel that their anger, when active, is a separate entity that takes control and can be hurtful and destructive to themselves and others.
The author avoids social interaction on days when their "monster" is active to prevent harm through hurtful words.
They acknowledge the monster's unpredictability, which can be triggered by everyday occurrences like inconsiderate behavior from strangers.
The author believes that well-intentioned advice and platitudes do not help in managing their anger and may even worsen it.
They assert the validity of their feelings and push back against those who might criticize their portrayal of bipolar anger, stating that it is a genuine reflection of their experience, not a generalization of all individuals with bipolar disorder.
The author emphasizes the importance of patience and the expectation that the angry episodes will eventually pass, allowing their true self to resurface.

How It Feels When Bipolar Anger Creates an Internal Monster

Describing the rage monster from the inside.

It’s a monster that sleeps inside of me. As I approach my fifties, it rests more often, but when startled, it rises with as much ferocity as ever.

Bipolar anger is a separate entity from me, at least in my mind. It’s irrational, impulsive, and destructive. It’s a part of bipolar disorder that still fills me with fear even after decades of treatment.

I hate the days when my monster rules as king. On those days, he wakes up before I do and sets the tone for the day. Nothing will go right when he’s awake. Everything from the annoying announcer on the radio to the perpetual drip of the bathroom faucet intensifies his rampage.

For the safety of others, I avoid people as much as possible. It’s not that he’s ever hurt anyone physically, except maybe once in the third grade, but he uses hateful words and knows which ones will hurt the most.

He tosses insults as daggers, wounding everyone within throwing distance. His barbs rip open tender hearts as he stomps on their most painful scars.

When Bipolar Stops Everything

What it’s like when bipolar makes your world stop turning.

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Inside, I feel like I’m entombed in a glass bubble. I watch as he performs horrible deeds and hear the vicious words spill from my mouth. I am powerless to stop it.

He’s in control, and it will be up to me to clean up the mess when he goes back to sleep. For now, all I can do is note his trail of destruction.

As hard as the days are when my monster rises early, the days he springs to life without warning are almost worse.

Driving through town, an idiot driver will pull out in front of me, and he’s ready to eat them and their car for lunch. He rises to attention because of a coworker’s incessant foot tapping and jerks awake because of unkind salesclerks or inconsiderate shoppers.

Yes, I’m talking about you standing in the middle of the potato chip aisle, your shopping cart at an angle so no one can pass, transfixed on whatever is on your cell phone screen. Your lack of consideration rouses him no matter how hard I try to keep him calm.

Put down the stupid phone and move your cart! You’re not alone in this store.

It’s a good thing I have some restraint, or my monster would crush you into a meaty ball and fling you down the aisle like bowling with human pins.

Bipolar anger sucks. As much as I strive to be positive most days, my beast will suck the color from my world, darken the sun, and numb my humor sensor. Telling me to buck up or that tomorrow will be better does not help.

Who is Diego? Wearing a Mask When You Have Bipolar

A look at the reasons we wear bipolar masks.

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Yep, I get the irony, since I continually tell my readers to hold on until tomorrow. I know the next day will probably be better, but remember, I’m currently in my glass coffin. There’s not a lot of optimism in here with me.

My anger doesn’t care about your platitudes, and spewing clichés at him does nothing more than fuel his fire.

Some will say my words here are making things worse. They will berate me for describing my anger as a growling monster and claim my words will only increase stigma.

To them I say, “Shut up! You’re not helping.”

Yes, me, I say this, not the monster inside.

This is how I feel, and my feelings are valid. It’s okay if you don’t understand them, but you don’t have the right to condemn me based on your lack of comprehension.

Maybe it’s not how you feel about your bipolar. That’s fine. I’m not describing you. I’m talking about me.

Since you’re not in my head, you don’t know how I feel. And this is how I feel.

After decades of failures, I know how to be patient. The angry monster may rage for days, but eventually, he’ll need to rest.

I just have to hold on.

If you see me without a smile on my face and my eyes glow with contempt like a Goa’uld overlord from the Stargate universe, please understand he’s in control. I’ll be back soon, but you have to let him go for now. It’s pointless to try and stop him. He’ll rest when he decides it’s time, so hide with the other villagers until then.

Hopefully, you’ll see the real me again tomorrow.

Until next time, keep fighting.

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