The Gift of Grandiosity
Debunking the negative connotation surrounding one of the main traits of bipolar disorder.
“Now I could let these dream-killers kill my self-esteem, or use my arrogance as the steam to power my dreams.”
— Kanye West.
My confidence fluctuates between extremes. Sometimes I feel on top of the world and find myself dreaming about all the things I could potentially achieve; other times I’m so discouraged about my prospects that I feel like a talentless loser. Perhaps you can relate to this on some level, even if you aren’t bipolar like I am (hello universal spectrum of mental health!). The point is if you do suffer from a mental illness, especially bipolar disorder, these discordant emotions in your head are magnified several times over, and the effect can be quite draining. You either become patently unable to see the forest from the trees, or you think you have superpowers like my man Kanye sometimes alludes to.
This post isn’t about ragging on Kanye, far from it (as a matter of fact, he happens to be my second favorite American celebrity, behind the great Tom Brady). It’s about how much I can relate to Ye’s state of mind at times. One could say I’ve got a huge ego, and I’m self-aware enough to acknowledge this. But with age comes wisdom, and I’ve learned to subjugate my pride when necessary. Finding the right balance can be hard, and it wouldn’t have been possible for me without some truly humbling life experiences.
“If your pain does not lead you to humility, then you have wasted your suffering”- DeeDee Trotter, USA Olympic Gold-Medalist.
About two-thirds of people who live with bipolar disorder exhibit symptoms of grandiosity, a trait that’s generally frowned upon. But I view grandiosity as a gift because it allows one to explore one’s limits, individually. Sure, it can be toxic in some cases. But I believe when managed appropriately, grandiosity can be beneficial. In fact, I would suggest that an elevated level of pride in the self is an innate attribute that is accessible to each and every one of us, but is only successfully channeled by the few who possess the wherewithal to fully embrace it. In essence, for those who are willing to do whatever it takes to achieve seemingly unattainable goals, grandiosity can provide the necessary road-map. It begets lofty ideas, and lofty ideas are the bedrock upon which the greatest breakthroughs are built (it’s about ideaaas bro!).
Having said this, it is also important to mention that no man is an island, and I am not advocating grandiosity as behavior that must be exhibited all the time. Like any medicine, it’s much better in small, intermittent doses. To this end, I would like to point out a major distinction between grandiosity and delusion, which it is sometimes mistaken for. Trust me, I can hear the murmurs in your head as you’re reading this- “This dude might be suffering from delusions of grandeur.” So here’s the key difference: grandiosity must necessarily be accompanied by severe, crippling self-doubt. This is inescapable. It’s okay to have an outsized ego and outlandish dreams, but self-doubt is the antidote that cures the grandiose mind, making one realize that one cannot solely rely on oneself to accomplish anything noteworthy. Once that equally extreme self-doubt is lost, you fall into the trap of grandiose delusion, which is a complete and utter waste of time.
Above all else, I have discovered that having a strong relationship with God allows me to retain that sense of perspective. Thanks to my faith, I am now much more appreciative of all my talents and flaws, including this “superpower” called bipolar disorder, and the grandiosity and self-doubt that comes with it. The ephemeral nature of this world means that at the end of the day, I know that whatever achievements I may garner only matter but so much in the grand scheme of things. In closing, I refer you to Hafez, the great 14th-century poet, who put it best in his poem “As Rich As Solomon” when, speaking of his relationship with God, he said:
Purely because of You, I became as rich as Solomon,
And from my union with You, like him, I have nought but wind in my hands.
More from El_virtuosito on Mental Health/Faith/Spirituality:
Why I Don’t Care About The Stigmatization of Mental Illness
The Heir of Solomon (Master of Demons)
