Bipolar: A List

“I could walk through fire if it meant making my dreams come true. That is the gift being bipolar gave me. It blessed me with a lofty imagination, an iron will, and an unbreakable belief in the impossible.”

– A.J. Mendez

For someone with bipolar disorder, comfort can be found in some odd and dark places. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t comforted (in a selfish and devious way even) when being around someone with mine or a similar condition. It makes me feel like, “Ha! Yes! It’s not only me!” I know, I know…but, hey, whatever gets me through the night.

So, you can only imagine how it feels when you find out some of your heroes suffer from the same condition as you. It washes away that all-encompassing stigma for just a moment and offers up some (usually) much needed hope.

Famous People with Bipolar Disorder
Selena Gomez (Actress/Musician)

Jimi Hendrix (Musician)

Buzz Aldrin (Astronaut)

Kanye West (Rapper/Musician)

Vincent Van Gogh (Artist)

Scott Weiland (Stone Temple Pilots)

Amy Winehouse (Musician)

Scott Stapp (Creed)

Mariah Carey (Musician)

Kurt Cobain (Nirvana)

Carrie Fisher (Actress)

Catherina Zeta-Jones (Actress)

Virginia Woolf (Writer)

Brian Wilson (Musician)

Ernest Hemingway (Author)

Frank Sinatra (Musician/Actor)

Winston Churchill (Politician)

Jean-Claude Van Damme (Actor)

Ben Stiller (Actor/Comedian)

Lou Reed (Musician)

Mel Gibson (Actor)

Lauryn Hill (Musician/Actress)

This is just a list of some well-known people who suffer from bipolar disorder. Is it comforting on some dark level of the human soul? Who’s to say?

The list goes on and on and on. Some of these people made it through the fire, and some didn’t. But it is comforting to share a relatability with someone who inspires you. Especially when it’s on this type of level. Some of the people on the list led dangerous lives with devastating outcomes. Some didn’t make it. But when the reality that us lay people have to deal with is something a famous person or even an icon has deal with also, a little bit of hope breaks through the darkness. Like the sunlight breaking through the clouds after a storm, hope can become a reality. If only for just a minute.

I’m not a rubbernecker, but even if I was that brief moment of hope is far more fulfilling than any other sick, selfish motive I may sometimes have.

Do You Believe in Magick?

“What is to give light must endure burning.”

– Viktor Frankl

I first heard the word “magick” while reading Damien Echols devastating memoir, Life After Death. Echols spent more than 18 years on death row for a crime he did not commit, and his personal journey and soul survival is more than awe inspiring.

You may think “magick” is only “magic” with a “k”. Echols, however, has drawn out the beauty of the word in a new way that warranted the “k” and then some, in fact.

“I have two definitions for the word ‘magick’”, Echols said. “The first is knowing that I can effect change through my own will, even behind these bars; and the other meaning is more experiential – seeing beauty for a moment in the midst of the mundane.”

Echols was able to find a way to not only maintain, but flourish during his 18 years on death row. If someone in those circumstances can manage that type of mentality, then why can’t I? Or you? Or anyone? One must free themselves from all social bondage and let go of all before being able to recognize that ability within.

I’m trying to work on that.

Echols also described “magick” as catching “beauty for a moment in the midst of the mundane.”

To catch a glimpse of beauty when and where it’s not expected is an example of what true “magick” is and can be.

This is to be short purposefully and act only as a reminder that “magick” is here and is real and it’s up for grabs. You just have to let go of all your restraints and step outside your boxes.

As Echols says, “Good things are always coming; sometimes we just forget it.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Caesar Meet Brutus

“If I can’t be my own, I’d feel better dead”

– Alice In Chains, Nutshell

I think I’m losing my mind.

The week started out grand – with my computer crashing at just two months old, my car battery completely crapping out (along with a broken terminal), and a missed freelance deadline.

Hours on the phone with HP and three business days later finally led to my computer resolution. For only having my writing saved on it I question what makes a brand-new laptop crash. I’m not extremely tech savvy, but my suspicions have been raised.

It’s kind of funny how a day can start off one way and then end in a totally different one, isn’t it? It’s our lives. We go through so many changes and come upon so many crossroads that it’s amazing we even have the ability or time to think at all. It’s the sort of thing I happen to be all too familiar with yet really would rather not be. To know the ins and outs of human emotion to this extent isn’t always the greatest of gifts. I’d trade it to be sad any day.

But we still get up every day, doing the same thing over and over. And then we go off, telling ourselves and others whatever lies we must in order not to go completely insane.

It’s a vicious cycle we’re born into. We may not necessarily be born insane; in fact, I feel we’re all born with the pretense to run from insanity. This may be our best natural asset, even when we are having to make up things to run from.

And strangely it somehow works out, albeit usually messily in the end.

I think my favorite part of who I am is attacking itself. My brain is no longer my best friend, and my mind never was. My brain is a traitor. I’m losing track of myself and someone on the inside seems to be enjoying it.

Caesar meet Brutus.

That’s just cryptic immaturity on display, but not completely inaccurate.

The mowing season is in full swing and has been keeping me busy, taking away quite a bit of time from my writing. Which is why I haven’t been here in a few days (along with my many other reasons, of course). It’s hard to prioritize which “projects” to be working on when your time is limited, and I’m trying to be as ambitious as possible without completely losing my head (haha).

But it seems to be to no avail. I’m blinded to the days of the week anymore. I am consciously keeping myself in check because I can’t keep up. It’s Saturday night, but it feels like it’s Tuesday. I don’t know why. This will somehow be my fault, though.

I’m remembering things in fragments and snapshots. Some days I am blessed with the gift of being able to string real thoughts together, other days not so much. Lately, all of my writing has become diaries of fog. I get stranded in the cliché “sea of words”, and if it doesn’t come out sounding like rambling gibberish, it comes out very corny, full of phrases like “sea of words”.

I have written some poetry I’m semi-proud of lately, though. I hate writing poetry, but feel it is a necessary evil. Sometimes the spirit just takes over and I abandon prose for a moment, getting lost in what is more than likely pretentious and semi-fraudulent. There is good poetry, however. I just do not recognize it in my own writing.

I still play my guitar every day, which is a mental exercise built perfectly to my advantage. I only play acoustic guitar anymore and haven’t picked up my bass in longer than I’d like to admit. I don’t know if “music equals life” like the t-shirts say, but without it I’m not sure where my life would be.

I’ve never had my shit together. I’ve just been able to use my illusion to get by. Now, all of that seems to be catching up to me. I don’t have the ability anymore to fake it or pull one over on people by faking it. If this is a dance, I no longer remember the steps and have never been one for dancing anyway.

I seem to be finding more and more ways I am “restrained” in life but continue keeping up the good fight of not staying in any boxes created by the “powers that be”. I am proud of myself for that. Most people who know me say I have no filter, which at times can be true, dangerous, and cruel. However, I am not afraid to stand on my own two legs and say what’s on my mind. It’s been called both my best and worst quality.

I’m going to have to wrap this up because I can see the fog coming in. It’s getting late, anyway. Although I mainly complained, I am proud to have put together a group of cohesive words from a train of broken thoughts. I made it this far and, surprisingly, even I know when to quit.

a day in the life: reflections

“The real man smiles in trouble, gathers from distress, and grows brave by reflection.”

– Thomas Paine

I was recently thinking about my past, reminiscing about friendships that seem like mirages of existence at this point. I decided it was best to use this great “hour of remembrance” in a constructive way and think about where I was five years ago.

Five years ago, I was 27, which was my golden birthday. I was wild then, wild and rearing to go be a part of any type of ignorant activity. I suffer from bipolar disorder if you guys didn’t know and even though I knew it at the time, I still used it to be the life of the party. I was still embarrassed (to an extent) about my condition, and it was easier to just be the wild one.

Five years ago, I worked at a television news station. It was a miserable job, and I would recommend it to no one. I was a digital content producer, which was just a fancy title for someone who wrote up police reports and posted them on Facebook. I’m a “journalist”, and CNN wasn’t calling so I needed to get my foot in the door. I worked at a print news station prior as a copy editor and it was just as miserable (I had interned there and was promised a job as a reporter but was just given a different one).

Five years ago, my middle son was barely one. Life for my wife and I was drastically different. We balanced our schedules and were lucky to have the time we did have. My wife was a correctional officer, and everything worked out perfectly. Our little boy is now almost six.

Five years ago, I asked a woman who has changed my life for the better to marry me. She did the following year, thank God, but the time we spent together that year as an engaged couple can never be changed or taken away.

Five years ago, I was blessed. Just as blessed as I am today. I have always tried to adopt a strict “don’t look back” policy, but it’s hard when looking back is sometimes the key to moving forward.

Mental Illness: An Excuse for Bad Behavior?

“Mental illness does not give you the excuse to act like a jackass.”

– Pete Davidson

The above quote quite sums up the entirety of what this short post will be.

It’s not unheard of. Someone with a mental illness, consciously or not, may believe they’re allowed a free pass at times. This, of course, is false. In no set of circumstances does mental illness allow one to act like a dick.

It’s a total myth that having a mental illness is an excuse for poor or bad behavior. Not that that is out of the realm of possibility, but one cannot stand behind the guise of mental illness to do whatever one wants. Yet, in certain times, we need to remember that the illness is not the person, and those isolating behaviors are part of their condition.

One study found that one-third of people think people with mental illness are ‘making excuses’.

According to an article in The Bridge Chronicle, people use mental illness as “an excuse for irrational behavior…mental illness doesn’t evaporate the consequences of our actions.

“Mental health does not make problematic behaviors excusable.”

A clear example of this is Kanye West and his continued deterioration in the media. He is allegedly bipolar (I am not sure if there has ever been a clinical diagnosis or not), but up until recently, we have always given Kanye a “pass” when he’s been offensive or completely “off his rocker” (pardon my discriminatory description – Kanye has earned it, though). His “genius” overshadowed any medical or mental health concerns that he was experiencing, and he continued down a destructive, untreated path.

I understand, to some degree, why people may play the “mental illness” card, though. It is sometimes the only way we can get any true recognition of our condition. It’s inexcusable to be manipulative when it comes to “owning” one’s illness, but sometimes it is the only way to express that part of our lives. One can use tact, though, and in a way that’s not so extreme.

There are different ways to go about “expressing” yourself. Taking responsibility for one’s actions and/or reactions is a good place to start. You may end up revealing something about yourself that you don’t want to but taking responsibility for certain behaviors is a good step in the right direction.

Having that kind of accountability can go a long way when having a mental illness. You have to acknowledge the situation before being able to handle it.

Symptoms of an undiagnosed mental illness include:


· Thoughts of harming someone or yourself

· Emotions of sorrow, frustration, fear, concern, or anxiety are recurrent or persistent.

· Regular outbursts of feelings or mood changes

· Uncertainty or mysterious memory lapses

· Delusions or hallucinations

· Intensive fear or anxiety about putting on weight

· Important shifts in eating or sleeping behaviors

· Unknown improvements in success at school or work

· Failure to deal with regular tasks or problems

· Cessation from events or relations in society

· Authority disobedience, delinquency, robbery, or destruction

· Misuse of substances, including alcoholism or illicit drug use

· Mysterious bodily conditions

There have been times when I’ve “gone off” because I’ve slipped, and lashing out seemed to be the most logical response. Hands up-don’t shoot! I, too, have been guilty of this.

If you find yourself lashing out at others, here are a few things you can do:

· If you have a lot of built up anger, speak to someone. A family member, a friend, or your doctor to talk about the things going on in your head.

· Alternatively, if you’re feeling angry, unleash your feelings by calling Samaritans on 116 123, they are there to listen to you.

· If you find yourself irritated or angry, question what’s going on. Is everyone else being irritating, or do you need extra support for your emotions?

· Before making hurtful comments, take a step back and think about the consequences.

· If you are unable to stop a reaction, take some time out afterward and apologize to the person you hurt.

· Listen when friends and loved ones tell you they’re hurting. Don’t dismiss their feelings or deflect them by blaming your mental illness.

Some people struggle with their moods and behaviors. It can be debilitating for everyone involved. This, however, does not give anyone the right to abuse their condition. Being mentally ill does not excuse bad or inappropriate behavior.

Bipolar Brain Fog: Seeing Thru the Haze

“When it’s foggy in the pulpit it’s cloudy in the pew.”

– Cavett Rober

I’ve touched upon this topic once before in an “a day in the life” post, but it’s something that bears repeating. Because I might forget.

Over the last year or so, I have been experiencing some semi-serious memory issues and some problems with basic motor skills and coordination. I was able to hide these specific problems from my wife for nearly three months before having to officially let the cat out of the bag.

And I only had to do that because I was stumbling around the house one day my wife and I were both home. It was a particularly bad day for me; I had no sense of perception or balance, and was bumping into furniture and running into walls. After about the third obvious misstep, though (no pun intended) I just looked over at my wife. In return, I was pretty much given the “Okay, let’s hear it” look and so I proceeded to tell her what I had been trying so hard to avoid.

It was almost painless…except for the part that wasn’t. I was embarrassed, and I had been forgetting everything, short-term and long-term. I would get hung up in a conversation and not know how to navigate back into it. How did I even manage to keep this a secret for this long? It didn’t matter how to my wife, only why.

WHY did you keep this a secret for so long?

I guess other than being embarrassed (and a little scared) I’m not sure myself. I knew, though, that when one of those “moments” would occur I would leave the room as quickly as possible and go to the bathroom and cry. I initially started this as a method of returning from the edge. I would hope that staring at myself while flooding the counters with my boxed-up tears would act as a trigger to “come back to”. This rarely worked, if ever.

The first thing was first, though, and that was to get in with the doctor ASAP. I had already wasted enough time and had finally accepted what was going on. To a certain extent, anyway.

I already see a neurologist because of a seizure disorder, so it didn’t take too long to get that appointment scheduled. I had both a CT scan and an MRI before the appointment, so I was looking forward to getting some answers.

Of course, it’s not that simple, is it?

The MRI did show two small areas on my corona radiata, an area between the cortex and brain stem. A second MRI was then ordered, and I started to worry. By this point, I was unsure of why another MRI was necessary after I had demonstrated my inability to do what the neurologist was asking of me, both mentally and physically. The physical test’s results indicated I had no reflexes in either foot/ankle, and my whole left side was significantly weaker than my right. The second part of the physical test required me to walk toe-to-toe down a long hallway – which I failed miserably at.

So, I expected some sort of answer. Things were ruled out, such as mini strokes and multiple sclerosis, but nothing was ruled on. I suppose finding out what it wasn’t should have acted as some sort of relief or buffer, but it didn’t.

It was time to get back to the drawing board.

After more lab work, another MRI on the books, and visits with other doctors, I was given at least a little bit of start. As more things continued to be ruled out, we had to at least be getting a little bit closer to an answer, right?

I have experienced all the symptoms and feelings and moods that come with along with bipolar disorder, so I thought I had the game down. But as always, this was not the case. At this point, I was just hoping to forget I was even sick, bipolar or not.

As for where I stand right now, I personally do believe what’s been going on is (more than likely) related to my illness.

Specifically, it’s referred to as “bipolar brain fog”. I guess it’s real enough. I look at it as another rung on the ladder for me, a ladder where the climb is overwhelming and never-ending.

Bipolar brain fog is described as having the “inability to focus on a task, retrieve simple memories or words, or tune out distractions.”

Fortunately – for me, anyway – I hate sympathy (even just sitting here writing this is making me cringe a little), so that in and of itself just acts as a motivator for me to not be like “why me?” or to seek out attention in any other way. Sympathy of any kind just makes me feel uncomfortable, so instead of showering in those negative waters, I decided to just hang out in Lake Out-of-Sight-Out-of-Mind. Back to avoiding the truth again. It was either that or go crazy, and I just couldn’t afford that.

As I tread forward, though, it truly does feel like it may be my bipolar disorder causing everything. From the initial MRI to now, it appears that there are areas in my brain that have shrunk in size. This seems to be indicative of these issues stemming from bipolar disorder.

Memory issues caused by bipolar disorder can be traced to the seriousness of the extreme highs and lows associated with the illness. The excessive and intense repetition of cycling is major causation of memory issues in someone with bipolar disorder.

Now, to clarify, these are not constant issues. I do deal with them daily, but not 24/7 like many others.

It’s still scary. One study suggests that bipolar disorder may cause progressive brain damage. It can even lead to early-onset dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. Now, does that mean that those things are going to happen for sure? No. Does it make sense why I might be scared at times? I’d like to think so.

Bipolar disorder and memory loss are linked to “deficits in regions of the brain,…each of which plays a role in memory as well as movement, learning, reward, motivation, emotion, and romantic interaction.”

My next appointment with the neurologist is later this month so, fingers crossed for another MRI, I guess.

To be in my early 30s and to already be seeing doctors for memory loss concerns is scary. I don’t want to lose anything else I already don’t have.

So, take away anything else. Take whatever you want.

Just don’t take my mind. Don’t take the one thing that’s truly mine.

Leave me my mind.

My Week-Long Hiatus

“Stress acts as an accelerator: it will push you either forward or backward, but you choose which direction.”

– Chelsea Eriaue

It has been one of “those weeks” to be sure. No, nothing genuinely terrible has occurred. It’s just been one of “those weeks” in the sense that when that phrase is used, all can be sure what is truly meant.

For me, the main thing was a classic case of “biting off more than I could chew”, an ailment that I’m too often afflicted with. I spent several days writing several freelance pieces that I had put off until the last minute, ultimately resulting in an intense, unnecessary level of stress that I’m surprised didn’t end up with me losing my hair.

I work best under pressure, I feel, but this was a little too heavy of a workload on top of everything going on. To purposefully put myself in that type of predicament, on top of kids and real life

Anyway, after finally completing my deadly deadline, I spent two days push mowing three acres of land. What started as a pet project quickly turned into a work overload. The yard had to be mowed, though, and I won’t let anyone else do it. It’s just how I was raised.

There’s not much to this post except to let everyone know I plan to stick to the main schedule I initially intended. When I missed Sunday and Monday, I didn’t want to change days just because of “personal strife”. It’s Thursday now, and I’m providing nothing of substantial value except that. I intend to do better by prioritizing and learning from my most recent lesson.

Whoever said “work smarter, not harder” sure knew what the hell they were talking about.

a day in the life: snapshots & hand-me-downs

“The past beats inside me like a second heart.”

– John Banville

I recently had the luxury of finding an old notebook, one that had been used simply for creative purposes. It was about fifteen years old, but you couldn’t tell by its condition. However, the age of the notebook became more than evident after opening it up. To me, anyway.

Upon looking at the chicken scrawl that was my teen handwriting, and the pages and pages of pretentious writing that were also mine…I had a serious cringe moment. I don’t think of myself as a regular Hemingway, but my immaturity was on full display in those pages. It was also real clear that I had no real insight fifteen years ago. Just based on some of the passages I could stomach reading.

“…of the stiff, suspicious statues –

I stumbled along in agonizing anticipation

The voices were hollow and near

hiding in the plaguing darkness

I stopped –

and took in the sky…”

(2007)

There is absolutely no meaning to that. I had no idea what it meant then, and I still don’t. And I won’t try to pretend to spin it now.

The notebook is full of writing that makes me grimace. But its writing shows a side of me, one that I had yet to even define at that point.

It’s only one of many notebooks I could dig out and have the same feeling over (I have even at times thought about getting all the “old stuff” together in a chronological fashion of some sort, but life hasn’t allowed for that to happen). They’re the notebooks that are the basis for anything I am now.

They include song lyrics:

A worried man’s got his worried mind

And sees with two eyes that have gone blind

I been standing in the back just trying to get her name

When you’re that hard-up for a little fix

You ain’t clean, just a sober addict

You’re a million miles away, and everything’s changed

And poetry:

“I bought a brand-new mirror

and I hung it on the wall

I knelt before it every night

And prayed it wouldn’t fall…”

And then I stumbled upon this last little piece. It’s a poem that, at even twelve years old, I have found some merit in.

The Day I Left

the day I left,

in shackles and hand-me-downs,

the hardest thing –

that once remembered dream of

Passion,

I left the beach

I left, strangled and oblivious,

the curtain of hope decaying,

a penned elegy in my place

she was a sad-eyed mystery,

who was whatever I wanted,

sacred remnant

(left the beach for this?)

Instead of diamonds for sand and the sun for a father,

we have this –

Bombs for beachballs, tanks for cruise ships,

war for fun-in-the-sun

I see it all thru concave,

                  visions of mass deception,          

a summertime loss

this wavy clarity takes away

my security

the truth and enlightenment we need is found

in nuclear warfare,

and in our God,

bomb

Blessed,

I left in sleep

Cursed,

I left her

I push this way,

you pull the other

The day I left.

I found salvation

But not the kind I hoped to find

I found loneliness

I was blessed

on the day that I left

I guess if I had a point in today’s ramblings it would be to be careful what you hold onto and what you throw away. It may be old and it may be immature, but it also might contain the plotline for the next great American novel.

Stress as a Teacher

“Stress should be a powerful driving force, not an obstacle.”

– Bill Phillips

I accepted a long time ago that it’s easier to try and get something out of my stress than it is to try and find any alleviation from it. It’s gotten better over time, but I still find myself milking it just to get something out of it. Otherwise, I’m exhausted for no reason, and the madness takes another round.

We are always hearing about the dangers of stress. According to the Jed Foundation, “Stress is usually a reaction to something we have control over or different aspects of our lives that we could potentially manage better.”

According to past research, stress can negatively impact someone on nearly every level and then some. However, there is some research to suggest the opposite. A 2013 study found that stress may be beneficial and may help protect against damage linked to aging and disease.

This same research also led to the following shocking findings:

• Stress enhances motivation
• Stress can enhance childhood development
• Stress can build resilience and encourage growth
• Stress can promote bonding
• Stress is part of a meaningful life

Upsides to the downsides.

And I thought I was special.

This is all in short bursts, of course. Chronic stress can be a killer.

According to Summa Health, “stress helps you meet your daily challenges and motivates you to reach your goals, ultimately making you a smarter, happier and healthier person.”

According to another study, stress takes its toll and can be dangerous, but it can also “bring unexpected benefits, too, in the form of personal growth.”

One must learn to delineate the difference between good stress and bad stress, though. Good stress, like the mania associated with the madness, should be used when at all possible. None of this is your fault, so be selfish and walk through the fire.

Bad stress wears you out and is harmful to your health. Bad stress can lead to anxiety, poor concentration, and decreased performance.

Tips to avoid or reduce bad stress include:
• Eliminate stress where you can
• Accept there are events you can’t control
• Think positive thoughts
• Get support
• Add relaxation techniques to your everyday routine
• Stay healthy and fit
• Get a good night’s rest

Drawing from academic work and research, doctors and scientists developed a three-step approach to positively responding to stress

Three-Step Approach to Handling Stress

• Step One: See It
• Step Two: Own It
• Step Three: Use It

In hindsight, this seems clear as day, but bad stress is often the perpetrator and can be hard to shake off sometimes. That’s the stress that will get you. So, I find it easiest to compartmentalize and use a combination of concepts to manipulate stress before it does the same to me.

Steps to Take Before Good Stress Goes Bad

• Recognize worry for what it is
• Then, reframe the stress
• Focus on what you can control
• Create a network of support
• Get some stress-handling experience

To be able to reframe stress to one’s advantage is a very satisfying and gratifying feeling. It’s not something just anyone can do. Being able to focus on only the things that you can control is a gift in and of itself. And it never hurts to have a little stress-handling experience.

Principles to Remember
Do:
• Think of stress as an indicator that you care about something, rather than a cause for panic
• Focus on the task, rather than the emotion
• Build relationships so that you have people to turn to in times of stress
Don’t:
• Assume your stress is going to last forever
• Worry about things that are out of your control
• Spend time with people who are negative

I have used stress to my advantage many times and figure that that’s the way it will be for the rest of time. At least for the foreseeable future. I accept both this being the case and the challenge involved. It’s a game, and one some people have to get really good at.

Genetic Predisposition: A Bipolar Parent’s Worst Fear

 “I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was barely out of my teens. Like our olive skin tone and caterpillar eyebrows, I guess it just runs in the family.”

– AJ Lee

When I learned, or accepted, my diagnosis (Doctors diagnosed me with bipolar disorder at least three times over nine years before I decided to seek out treatment), I had to learn everything I could about the disorder. I needed to know everything. It was all consuming and, to a certain extent, still is. I needed to do my own comparisons, though. I wasn’t a doctor and, it’s true, I’m still not, but I had to know if my “symptoms” matched the criteria for bipolar disorder. It didn’t take but a few minutes to acknowledge the doctors had more than likely been right.

Nine years. I spent nine years in the fire before finally accepting that that was the case. So, I studied up on the disorder and found most of the facts discouraging and embarrassing. But the one thing that was most prevalent was the fact that 80% of the disorder’s existence was genetic. My oldest son was born when I was 18, and I was 24 when I first got any kind of treatment. So, there was a selfish six-year period I avoided what I had learned as “the facts” when it came to any part of the disorder. One day it hit me, though, and it was back to the books.

I knew there was a general genetic connection and that was the first thing that popped into my head.

Various studies ”estimated a heritability rate of about 58%”, according to a 2015 report. Research from the Black Dog Institute suggests the disorder is “inherited, with genetic factors accounting for approximately 80% of the cause of the condition”.

“Bipolar disorder is the most likely psychiatric disorder to be passed down from family.”

That’s scary to me.

One doctor said that “scientists confirm that bipolar disorder has a genetic component, meaning the disorder can run in families.”

Now it’s 2022. I have three sons, and the likelihood of one of them developing bipolar disorder, or any psychiatric disorder, is higher than what is average or typical. Below are some basic stats on the issue:

  • A child of one parent with bipolar disorder and one without has a 15% to 30% chance of having BP.
  • If both parents have bipolar disorder, there’s a 50% to 75% chance that a child of theirs will, too.
  • If you already have one child with BP, there is a 15% to 25% chance that another of your children will also have it.
  • If one identical twin has BP, there’s about an 85%chance that the other one will as well. In three other studies, the chance of an identical twin also having bipolar disorder ranges from 38% to 43% with that of dizygotic non-identical) twins being between 4.5% and 5.6%.

Stats scare me, and maybe they’re supposed to. This was a fear of a different caliber, though. This felt as if I was somehow doomed to a fate that was out of my hands, and one I wanted nothing to do with.

For a long time, I beat myself up over it. I was never like “why me?”, but I sure was pissed. At God, mainly. I realized that was a waste of time and energy, for many reasons. However, the constant state of anxiety I live in doesn’t allow the idea to go away. I still have my moments of sadness and anger, but it’s the worrying part that, at times, can eat me alive.

My wife is my rock. She can usually keep me in check. Thankfully so, because I can’t afford to worry about anything else. The things I worry about may seem trivial to many, but that doesn’t mean they’re not all consuming. It’s hard for me not to worry about something without getting fixated on it.

There are other environmental risk factors that play into the causation of bipolar disorder. The big ones are sleep deprivation, substance abuse, trauma, and stress.

Some of the most common life stressors that can trigger symptoms include:

  • changing jobs or losing a job
  • experiencing a death in the family
  • going to college
  • going through a divorce

A 2019 study suggested that “the resulting cognitive deficits, the high risk of suicide, and the occurrence of severe psychiatric and medical comorbidities all make BD one of the major causes of mortality and disability worldwide.”

Nothing familial in that declaration, but I couldn’t imagine any of my children having to go through any of that or ever feel like that. My wife insists that that’s not something I need to worry about because it’s out of my hands. It’s out of all our hands. What will be, will be, right?

Such a silly thought. Never been a big fan of that ideology.

I still have my moments where it will cross my mind, though, but I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

The Perks (or So I’m Told) of Bipolar Disorder

“In the terms of ‘Mental Illness’ isn’t stable a place they put horses that wish to run free?”

– Stanley Victor Paskavich

If you follow my blog regularly, don’t worry if I’ve strayed from my personal journey of positive thinking. I haven’t. But I am wondering if someone’s playing a joke on me. I’m behind the computer as we speak, waiting for someone to jump and shout, “GOTCHA!” Just know I went in with the idea for this post relieved and even a little bit excited. By the time I was done, though, I couldn’t tell if I was baffled, underwhelmed, or downright appalled.

It may seem ignorant (or arrogant, depending on which way you look at it) to suggest that there is any kind of upside to the bipolar condition. I would not be able to see past the question before giving an answer that was less than friendly. Understanding that now does do a lot of good but makes up for very little.

That said, I’ve always had my personal beliefs about any connections between bipolar disorder and intelligence, creativity, etc. They were in no way unbiased, universal, or set in stone. It turns out, though, there is research to suggest that being bipolar doesn’t always have to be all bad.

Many people think genetics is the only factor that plays a role in this disorder’s existence. One study on the matter suggests that “despite the clear contribution of genetics to the etiology of bipolar disorder, little of the genetic architecture is currently understood.”

That same study also found five positive psychological traits dominant in those with bipolar disorder:

· Spirituality

· Empathy

· Creativity

· Realism

· Resilience

These traits “are generally viewed as valuable and beneficial morally or socially.”

I can only speak for myself, but I wouldn’t have guessed those to be the traits amplified in a positive light by bipolar disorder.

One of the psychiatrists who worked on the study, Nassir Ghaemi, is turning some heads with some of his research.

Ghaemi, psychiatrist and author of A First-Rate Madness: Uncovering the Links between Leadership and Mental Illness, has evidence supporting the study’s contentious findings.

“Depression enhances empathy and realism, and the mania enhances creativity and resilience … so when people have bipolar disorder, they have the full gamut of benefits.”

According to Ghaemi, those with bipolar disorder “are better equipped for times of crisis.”

This is playing semantics as far as I’m concerned. I personally don’t find it offensive but would understand why someone else suffering from bipolar disorder might. The word “crisis” is applicable in many different ways and on many different levels. To suggest that someone with bipolar disorder has the “full gamut of benefits” is offensive in general and, even more so, inaccurate.

The idea of resilience being a positive trait of this illness kind of makes sense to me, but the cynic in me can see how that might be offensive to others, as well. It may also be the cynic in me and not the bipolar disorder that makes me think, “Resilience? At what cost?”

Ghaemi said he believes exposure to adversity can provide a kind of “mental vaccine” against future adversity, in turn creating a kind of organic resilience.

“People with bipolar disorder … have traumatic manic or depressed episodes, and then it goes away. They actually recover from these episodes,” he said.

This is a misleading, reckless statement. I’m walking proof that that isn’t a rational assumption. I can only speak for myself, but even when I “come out” of a depressive or manic state I am always reminded that I only have a certain number of tools to work with – and they’re never enough. And they never will be. That’s part of the disorder: When you go into remission, you think you’ll be ready for next time. And then next time comes and you realize too late you were far from ready.

I can’t speak to the sense of spirituality that inflates by the madness; I myself am not a spiritual person so I can’t speak to the idea’s logic or lack thereof. The idea is that someone with bipolar disorder may “rely” on spirituality to help them through. Although this makes sense to me, I still cannot relate.

David Miklowitz, director of the Child and Adolescent Mood Disorders Program at UCLA’s Semel Institute, believes traits such as spirituality, in fact, are worth developing as safeguards.

He says, “for people with bipolar disorder to think about their personal goals for recovery—not taking medication and only taking medication, but are there other things that could be helpful to their long-term quality of life?”

This is true, but we must not lose sight of where, and in what order, our priorities need lie. “Recovery” in the land of mental illness and make-believe doesn’t mean “recovery” in the standard, typical sense here on dry land. For me, recovery is like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow: the idea is fun, but that’s about it. If you’re going to worry about being resilient or creative, you better have the “basic” stuff (like a medication regimen and therapy) MORE than down pat beforehand. Remember, this is war.

But, Miklowitz does note the danger in romanticizing the “mad genius” concept.

“…where we get into trouble … is when it’s implied that bipolar people are more creative than other people and then the logical leap that people make is, ‘Well, if I go off my medications, then I’ll be really creative.’ And that’s when disasters tend to occur.”

It seems like Miklowitz wants to have his cake and eat it, too. He seems to be nailing down the importance of maintaining a healthy lifestyle while at the same time entertaining a hypothesis that, from where I’m sitting, seems a little too unrealistic.

So, what about depression? Does one’s close nature with suffering allow them to tap into a secret vault of empathy? Well, according to the study, kind of.

“I…think that people with bipolar disorder have a unique way of perceiving the world,” Roumen Miley, psychiatrist and clinical director of the Providence Care Mood Disorder Research and Treatment Service, said. “They have increased sensitivity. When people are depressed, they experience the world in a different way. They become more sensitive to the world and to the pain in the world.”

This ideology does make me wonder if I’m a bipolar anomaly in that I disagree. Sure, I see the world through a lens that only I can. And someone with breast cancer sees the world through a lens only they can. It makes me feel like a spectacle. I don’t want to be interesting or knowledgeable in that regard. I don’t want to be “fun” to be around if what I’ve gone through continues to be the price. I’m flattered, but no thanks.

There has been a known correlation between creativity/intelligence and bipolar disorder for decades now, but no one can point to the reason why. It’s been common knowledge for some time that there is an extreme genetic component to the illness, but no one knows anything about which gene that is and why.

I’m not in complete disagreement with some of the conclusions these researchers came to, but I question the unusual directions they followed to reach said destinations.

I’m not offended to a point of irrational defiance, and granted, I know very little about the professional backgrounds of the researchers involved…but their intentions weren’t entirely in the right place.

On another note, the study also puts out the idea that having a “positive cognitive bias” shows people without a mental illness often misjudge both their own capabilities and control. They also tend to interpret events with too much of a positive attitude. So, are people without bipolar disorder different than “us” because they’re too positive and lack a certain kind of control?

The study aside, even the title of Dr. Ghaemi’s book, A First-Rate Madness: Uncovering the Links between Leadership and Mental Illness, makes me wonder about some of the connections made. I’m sure the research is there, but it sounds silly taken at face-value.

A catalyst for Ghaemi’s research, Tom Wootton founded what’s called the Bipolar Advantage in 2003. Its mission is to “focus on learning how to thrive DURING manic and depressive episodes. Those who achieve remission end up in crisis the next time it happens. Those who learn to thrive never have to worry about their next episode again.” I never knew a mission statement could be so irresponsible and potentially dangerous. But, hey, for the right price you can learn to harness delusional mania or that earth-shattering depression to your advantage.

Do I believe that’s possible to a certain extent? Yes, but only to an extent.

It’s the language that scares me. Not everyone’s brain chemistry is going to change by taking some overpriced web seminar.

This illness is like walking through fire. You become stripped down to your most raw, bare form and then you feel. You’ll feel feelings that you could’ve gone your whole life without. Feeling them in a way you know no one else can relate to or tolerate. I’m not special. I already deal with the disorder so don’t belittle me by trying to fit me inside one of your boxes because I’ll get out.

To quote the study, “By gaining a better appreciation for the positive aspects of mental illness and exploring methods to enhance these traits, we may improve clinical outcomes.”

Maybe they’re right. Through all the research maybe they’ve found the way in and cracked the code. But just because we can’t start the book on page one doesn’t mean we have to rewrite the first three chapters. I understand there is no linear approach when researching and treating bipolar disorder, but the conditions in which these conclusions were drawn are unusual and self-serving.

Like I said at the beginning, I approached doing this post with a proud enthusiasm; I was ready to be able to have something of tangible, evidentiary value that there was an upside to my downside. And there is, of course. I’m just not sure Dr. Ghaemi or any other researcher here pointed it out.

“In the storm of crisis, complete sanity can steer us astray, while some insanity brings us to port,” he said.

Needless to say, I won’t ever be getting on a boat with Dr. Ghaemi, proverbial or otherwise.

So Far, So Good

“You are not your illness. You have an individual story to tell. You have a name, a history, a personality. Staying yourself is part of the battle.”

– Julian Seifter

So far, so good.

Still sticking to a pretty self-care-oriented lifestyle. I haven’t been in the trenches of this new battle too terribly long, so fingers remain crossed.

Routine is key, and after a healthy breakfast, my day kicked off with a walk around the city park – my hometown’s only claim to fame (one of the seven Lincoln-Douglas debates took place there – kind of cool actually). The park is near the town square, but still as far away as ever too, tucked in all snug behind a thick tree line that leads to a forest of a park.

I walked the winding, manmade trails over tree roots and animal tracks. I had forgotten how many laps a mile was so I just decided to forget to keep track of how many laps I walked.

I walked down to the pond where the local ducks were congregating. Many people come out with loaves of bread just to feed the, at more often than not, large group of ducks. On this particular day I had no bread, but then again, the ducks weren’t even on my radar. I was more oblivious to them than I’m sure they had hoped.

I haven’t really actually “exercised” since football and wrestling in high school, and the last time I ran was probably from the cops, so I walked until boredom took over. I was pretty proud of myself for sticking to something, though. I discovered as the day progressed that you have to start with the little things, the kind of things most people take for granted and thus lose sight of down the line.

Again, routine is key, so I came home and did some laundry and cleaned up around the house (I’m still working out a consistent routine and I’m not quite ready to jump back into trying meditation again just yet).

I tried to do some breathing exercises and get a routine for that down. They’re no cure-all, but I’ve discovered they help to a certain extent. And you can only work with what you got.

This new declarative, self-acceptance is just that: new. I don’t like the word “positivity”, though that’s what it is.

This period of self-acceptance is different than any other. It’s not forced or phony. I’m genuinely in the game to get through certain things in my life. There are some things you can’t fix, however. You just have to face the music in that case.

I suffer from bipolar disorder, and it can take away all you have and then some at times. Both the “ups” and “downs” are miserable, but you weather the storm.

My disorder makes it harder for me to function in a rational sense at times. I am not my diagnosis, though, and if there are those who think otherwise, I feel sorry for them as ignorance has the tendency to blind and lead to nowhere good.

The secret, though, is to let go of any loose ends. I’ve recently had to do just that regarding some things going on and am better for it. I can’t control what other people think or assume so all I can do is continue to work on myself. I have a lot to learn, but it’s time to take action and evaluate my motivation and intentions in life.

I’ve had to be more introspective than usual lately (which is scary in and of itself with my brain), but it’s been helpful. The only thing I have control over is myself and I’m learning that, too. Replaying the past has been extremely hard on me. Now, I’m writing the script for the future, and I’m not looking back.

I’ve accepted my illness and realize its control over me. I have also finally accepted that the stigma isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. But that’s okay. I can only live by my actions. I can only focus on my own authenticity and truth. And it’s liberating just to jump on the notion of change. I will always be an advocate for mental health awareness. I’m not going anywhere.

Self-love and self-care are both important and are something I’m working on. I’m proud of myself for once. I feel this new wave of understanding and am taking advantage of it.

I am thankful and have no expectations.

I’m just moving forward.