Falling in Love

Or, Loving while bipolar

Falling in Love 
Love is such a nebulous thing yet we all strive after it, holding it ephemeral in our hearts. Or is love in the liver because it requires courage, gumption, and sheer bravado to believe that another human wants you as much as you're convinced you want them? Love is probably in the brain though it often feels like it's in the guts. Love is all your thoughts and emotional processes directed towards the object of your affection, a stimulant more exotic and concocted than cocaine. What happens then when you have a mental illness and your thoughts don't work the way they're supposed to? What is love to the schizophrenic, to the autistic, to the bipolar? I cannot speak for the other two but as a bipolar person diagnosed at age 18 who broke up with her boyfriend in the grip of the first full-blown manic episode she'd ever had, love is falling. 

The expression "to fall in love" is interesting because it paints love as something you trip into against your better judgement, something that embarrasses you and, much like gravity, can disregard your will to stay upright. Involuntary and inviolate, love will have you, whether you want it to or not. But what if you're already falling all the time? What if the earth beneath your feet is shaky at best and often outrightly quaking? What if your emotions and brain processes are constantly in turmoil and only mood stabilisers and antipsychotics keep you from being flung about willy-nilly? How does one stop to fall in love when they're always falling? 

Is such an easy thing to do 
Love, romantic love, has not been easy for me. Before I could even begin to understand it, I was already being subjected to the emotional dysregulation that is symptomatic of my condition. Everything felt raw, like my emotions were jagged wounds that got prodded or soothed, but never healed. As a teenager, in addition to the gauntlet that is adolescence, I also had to deal with feeling something was not right with me, why did everything feel so dull yet hurt so much? I plodded through life feeling fake, grey, and exposed like a wire. Eventually, at 18, I found someone who I thought understood that under all the red angst, was a human who wanted to fall and stop falling.  

We dated for 6 months and a time was had. We would talk for hours on end, read books in each other's company, listen to music together, experience each other and generally bask in the glow of each other's affection. It helped that he was older and neurodivergent as well, he understood when I did or said things even I didn't understand yet. It was a time of deep feelings and deep conversations. Unfortunately, deeper still, my condition was worsening and youthful experimentation did not help. 

If birds can do it 
I don't know if birds can be insane. It's an insult to say someone is being bird-brained but sometimes that's a fitting expression for when you do something so foolish and ill-advised you couldn't have been thinking with the capacity of a human. Or maybe it's distinctly human-brained to think of new ways to be self-destructive? Perhaps it takes having a brain with so many pathways for a neuron to misfire and send you walking alone as a young lady on a Lagos road past midnight because the impulses in your brain will not let you rest.  

Whatever it was, my first manic episode was one for the books. It involved climbing over the fence of an acquaintance's house in the rain and sitting there in my underwear shouting at people in the street. It involved sleeping in a kennel and singing Asa to dogs in the wee hours of the morning. It involved calling my boyfriend and informing him of our breakup because I had become convinced he was holding me back from some important mission. 

We can do it 
He respected my decision. That's something I will always respect him for. He knew I wasn't in my right mind because our mutual friends had been calling him and asking what the fuck is wrong with Dolapo? Yet, he respected my decision and only concerned himself with ensuring I was okay and in touch with my family. In that sense, I suppose I was fortunate in love because I've come to understand that consideration is one of the truest expressions of love and being considered and cared for even when I could not care for myself means I was truly loved at the time.  But that was not enough and the relationship could not be salvaged. 

So even when being bipolar doesn't manage to stop me from entering into a relationship, it turns the relationship into ashes in my mouth. It took almost 5 years for me to feel emotionally stable enough to embark on another relationship. That one also only lasted six months and is more illustrative of other issues aside from my bipolar. I've since tried to date a bit more casually and hold love a little lightly in the hope it will stay in my grasp voluntarily, but the weight of my falling has managed to smother it most times. 

So let's stop talking 
Since moving to the UK, I've even tried dating apps. I had some success with them in Nigeria though what came of it was mainly friendships, the romantic relationships were stillborn at best. Here, however, love is a fast-paced dance, a 1-2 step where the expectations either align exactly and immediately or you move on to the next partner, with no time to waste time. For me, that dance proved too much for someone who trips easily, for someone who is always falling. After one too many ghostings, I left the ring. I bruise much too easily to roughhouse on Tinder or Bumble.  

Now I'm hoping to meet someone organically like I met my two ex-boyfriends. An introduction from a mutual friend, or a social acquaintance, something that doesn't feel gamified or depersonalised. I want to have conversations that don't just feel like chatting for its own sake. Being upfront with prospective suitors is a risk I have to deal with as I have been rejected for fear of the (hereditary) nature of the disorder in the past. However, casual dating is simply not in the cards for me because the emotional toll of attaching and detaching repeatedly is detrimental to my mental stability. I want to experience someone fully, and hope that they do the same with me.

Let's get to it 
So yes, through no fault of mine, I process emotions in often extreme ways. Yes, the slightest compliment could have me on cloud nine, the slightest slight could plunge me into the blackest of moods. Yes, my emotional sensitivity is more heightened than that of the general population and it is a struggle to remain levelheaded and free from anxiety. However, since having a manic episode last year, I've been very consistent with my medication. I do my best to exercise, get enough sleep and keep mentally engaged. 

I'm crossing my Ts and dotting my Is. But most importantly, I'm not waiting with bated breath. Yes, I'm falling but so what? After all, skydiving is supposed to be fun. 

Let's fall in love!

The theme of the tv show, The Secret Life of The American Teenager. Lyrics: “Falling in love is such an easy thing to do, if birds can do it, we can do it, so let’s stop talking and let’s get to it. Let’s fall in love!”