Grandeur, Delusions or Something / by Charlie Francis Cassidy

Growing up I was always certain I’d be rich and well known even before I really had a grasp on what it was I’d be doing. I just knew that I was destined for great things. It seemed so obvious to me. Why did I exist if it wasn’t to be great. Now you could easily chalk this up being young and not really having a grasp on the world, but my view hasn’t changed at all. (Unless I’m depressed, but I’ll get to that) Right now, sitting here typing this, I couldn’t possibly imagine how I could be anything but.

Now it’s not like Games Design always (or often) turns out to be a pile of money waiting to happen, I just truly believe there is nothing I can’t learn to do and do well. When programming I actually feel like a god of sorts. I believe that there is nothing I could not learn to program. All I have to do is try. And by try, I mean do. Because there is no way I’d fail.

The times that I do finally get a bit of reason in my head are when I’m depressed. As depression goes though, it rarely stays reasonable. It tends to turn into how incapable I am of doing anything. But lately I am finding myself staying in the realm of mania. I rarely (if ever) find myself in the normal range of things. 

When I first started uni, I thought I had beaten depression all on my own. I hadn’t seen it for at least a year, and here I was learning all these new things that I was amazing at. I felt great. I felt invincible.

I was partying hard and leaving assignments to the last minute. Then not sleeping for up to 3 nights in a row finishing said assignments, mostly programming small games. I would often joke about being the god of code when I’d start and finish my game over a 2/3 day stint. I’m not sure I was really joking though. I felt on top of the world. 

When I did go home to sleep it was for maybe 3hrs max before I headed back out to do it all again. I was known for never being able to sit still in class, or anywhere really, and being stupidly happy all the time. I was the last person anyone would guess to have a mental illness. Or even problems at home. I was too happy.

But then I crashed. After months of this insanity, my depression came back full force. I owe a lot to a now close friend who got me to get help and start actually dealing with the depression rather than ignoring it. I could not have done it without her.

Mania didn’t pop up again till much later after being triggered by my Efexor last year, which lead to me actually being diagnosed with Bipolar. It’s only now that I’m considering that that’s what my first year was, an episode of mania rather than just a break from my depression. I really should bring it up with my psychiatrist.

Even now, after writing all this, I can’t stem the thoughts of how great I’m meant to be. I know that they’re probably symptoms on the mania, but I am still so sure that these thoughts are different. That for me, they don’t really apply to this.