My mother was bipolar.
I have an older sister who is bipolar.
I ran away from home at 17, finished high school and went on to college, graduating with a B.S. degree in medical technology with honors at the age of 22. I had escaped this illness, or so I thought.
At 38 years-of-age, I, too, was diagnosed with a bipolar disorder.
Talk about keeping it in the family. As you can see, it's genetic, at least in my case. When first diagnosed as bipolar, I was told by the doctor that this was a disorder of intelligent people.
I supposed that helped a little.
Some days I'm on top of the world, other days I don't want to get out of bed. The days I don't want to get out of bed, I force myself to get up and get something done, whether it's cleaning, going to work or running errands. You see, I have come to understand that the Lord Jesus Christ is my strength, my anchor, my hope; especially when I'm running low or just running. He allows me to be productive; it's my motto when I'm down.
My bipolar condition is a thorn in my side that I will live with until I die or until Jesus returns, whichever comes first. When I am having an episode, I lean on Jesus Christ to bring me through the highs and lows of my condition. I do this by listening to praise and worship songs, getting into the word of God and praying through the Psalms.
Now I'm older and wiser. I've discovered that being bipolar does not have to be a disability. It does not have to stop you from living.
I'm living proof of that, after all, I'm Christ's genius!