While I’m manic I assume that people want to hear what I have to say. I assume that people are interested in what’s happening to me, and that what I can share might help them in their own lives. When I’m depressed, it’s the opposite. I assume that nobody wants to hear from me, that nobody could possibly care enough about what I have to say for it to matter. I get down about my readership and listenership numbers — I don’t think there’s any number high enough to make me feel validated in those times. There’s no amount of affirmation that can make me feel like I’m OK.
One of the key understandings is that rational proofs, responses, "argument" that "everything will be fine, is fine," don’t stick, simply aren’t believable. Imagine if someone told you that the world was flat, that time portals were always opening just around the block but you were refusing to see them. That feeling of dismissing the stupid impossibility of those claims is what it feels like, there’s no appeal to reason.
Original source: Bipolar: feelings vs. reality