This morning my mother wrote to ask if I'm still on my meds and adhering to best practices for Bipolar II

I assume it's because I posted the video of me getting threatened by AR-15 guy to Facebook, which I knew she wouldn't like for many reasons

It's also high-risk behavior

One of the worst things about having a mental illness is that everything you do is suspect. When people don't like something you do, they can blame the illness. This isn't the "real you." Must be time for a med adjustment.

It robs me of agency

This isn't the first time this has happened. She isn't the only person who's done it. It hurts every time

I do it to myself too. Every thought is suspect. Every mood. Am I happy or hypomanic? Am I sad or crashing? Is my brain working, or do I just think it is?

Am I crazy?

Today, thinking about whether she's right to ask, I suddenly realized it doesn't matter

Don't get me wrong. Meds and maintainance are real important to keep me functional and not a miserable wreck of a person. I could never have done what I do now unmedicated. I tried for years

But I'm always going to be someone with Bipolar II, even when under control with medication. That's not an inauthentic part of me

If it means I have a higher risk tolerance than most people? Seek out exciting situations? Make important decisions quickly?

That's actually OK

Why am I going through my life trying so hard to be some model neurotypical person? I'm not one. I'm never going to be one

I should be striving for a functional and happy life, whatever that looks like for me. And you know what? I have that. Right now

I'm not sorry

As I contemplate the "post" button, I ponder the ramifications of talking openly about mental illness while the eyes of Andy Ngo's goons are fixed firmly upon me. I anticipate muting comments on this thread quicky

Fuck it. None of you people matter to me

I know who I am