I went to a doctor and told him I felt normal on acid, that I was a light bulb in a world of moths. That is what the manic state is like.
Interpretation
Carrie Fisher describes the surreal experience of mania as feeling out of place yet brightly alive.
In this quote, Carrie Fisher offers a vivid metaphor for the manic state often experienced in bipolar disorder. By comparing herself to a light bulb surrounded by moths, she conveys a sense of heightened awareness and vibrancy that feels both illuminating and isolating in a world filled with those who are drawn to her light, but may not truly understand her condition. This highlights the dual nature of mental health—where one can feel both alive and alienated.
In practice
In a mental health awareness talk, this quote can illustrate the complexities of living with bipolar disorder.
I trust myself. I trust my instincts. I know what I'm gonna do, what I can do, what I can't do. I've been through a lot, and I could go through more, but I hope I don't have to. But if I did, I'd be able to do it. I'm not going to enjoy dying, but there's not much prep for that.
Over time, I've paid attention, taken notes and forgotten easily half of everything I've gone through.
There's a line I have that our family was designed more for public than for private. But there are definitely some things that are only mine. I am someone who dreams at night, and you don't know what I'm dreaming.
You know how most illnesses have symptoms you can recognize? Like fever, upset stomach, chills, whatever. Well, with manic depression, it's sexual promiscuity, excessive spending, and substance abuse - and that just sounds like a fantastic weekend in Vegas to me!
I am truly a product of Hollywood in-breeding. When two celebrities mate, someone like me is the result.
People are still asking me if I knew Star Wars was going to be that big of a hit. Yes, we all knew. The only one who didn't know was George.
In a typical mental health catch-22, the alienating nature of depression tends to keep its sufferers from finding their way to the very support groups that might help them.
I had really bad obsessive-compulsive disorder. At its worst, I was compelled to leave my house at three o'clock in the morning and go out in the alley because I just knew that the paper-towel roll I threw in the recycling bin was uncomfortable, like it was lying the wrong way, and I would be down in the garbage.
When we are depressed, our thinking blocks us from being aware of our needs, and then being able to take action to meet our needs.
You are no less or more of a man or a woman or a human for having depression than you would be for having cancer or cardiovascular disease or a car accident.
Pain or not, I would most likely walk around in a suicidal reverie the rest of my life, never actually doing anything about it. Was there a psychological term for that? Was there a disease that involved an intense desire to die, but no will to go through with it? Couldn't talk and thoughts of suicide be considered a whole malady of their own, a special subcategory of depression in which the loss of a will to live has not quite been displaced by a determination to die?
I had a mental breakdown while doing my Ph.D. at Cambridge, soon after I cut off contact with my parents, and I started seeing the university counsellor, one of the best decisions I ever made. There's something very nourishing in setting aside an hour a week to talk.
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