Why Bipolar Has Kept Me Off Dating Apps!

“It’s the world we live in Hannah, face it” is what was said by my best friend when I told her I refused to get on a ‘dating’ application on my phone.  After a couple beers, she persuaded me to download one.  As you are aware, like with any social media, the profile picture and fio come first (fake bio).  The process begins…

Her: “You need a tagline”

Me: “okay…Don’t leave home without it

Her: “Hannah thats the fucking American Express tagline”

 …damnit I forgot she was in the marketing profession.  

Me: “Okay…Do you enjoy going to the circus?  Well if your answer is yes, you wont regret buying a ticket for this show (winky face)”

Her:  “They will totally think your slutty.  No we are going to say…college student who loves a good IPA beer and having fun with friends.”

Me:  “Um…I like not love IPA’s and I’m fucking allergic to cats”  

END of PART I

Okay so here is the deal, I am not saying I want to write, “My name is Hannah. I love writing my blog about having Bipolar II, drinking the occasional bottle of wine and taking selfies to boost my self esteem,” but what was written was so freaking cliche.  The thing is, it is hard for me to put on an act.  I do not like to talk about surface shit, because it is not exciting.  “So do you like animals?” “Don’t you enjoy this weather?”  No, I want to know, “If you could have your dream job what would be?”  “What is your shoe size?”   I guess this is a problem, but the moment someone views my primped up, photoshopped profile picture (not that it is not already), and reads the ‘about me’ they have created an image of what they want me to be, and I never live up to that expectation.  Im not a trophy wife, I am good glass of whiskey on a summer day at dusk.  I cannot go into a situation comfortable knowing that the only reason a person wants to meet me is because of my looks, the fact that I like IPA beers and cats aka I am a hot alcoholic cat lady who might be easy after a few 10% beers.  

I got on the dating app and began the ‘swiping’ process.  “Swipe left, no swipe right” was the conversation for a whole 125 seconds (I counted).  

Me: “I cant judge a person based on their picture, would if they are the love of my life but were having a bad hair day.”  

Her: “Come on Hannah, just have fun with it.”

Fun? Okay so here is what it comes down to.  I have a disease that a huge chunk of society is critical about.  “I cant swipe you because your not good looking” is translated as, “I cant hire you becuase you are mentally ill,”  “I cant marry you becuase you are mentally ill.”  I live with a mental illness that gets ‘swiped’ by society everyday.  Dating applications make us think that because someone didnt swipe us, we are not good enough.  We try so hard to appear as someone we are not, and it ends up backfiring when a person gets to know you.  The you that gets too drunk sometimes, or likes to sing to Backstreet Boys in the shower; the you that isn’t religious or is overly religious, the you that wakes up and looks like Lindsey Lohan…the mugshot version; the you that has a mental illness that can make life a rollercoaster at times.  My life can be complicated and I hold onto love being uncomplicated, natural and not judgmental.

 My best friend went to the bathroom and I deleted the app, looked to the sky and said, “thank you lord for making me insane enough to be sane.”  Sorry guys, no swiping for this bipolar betch ass any time soon.

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