“I’d rather feel the benefits of the flames and risk everything, than not feel them, and risk nothing at all.”
– Daniel Lyddon
Having bipolar disorder is like standing on the edge of a cliff in a thunderstorm: there’s an intense beauty about it, but ultimately in the end it’s just not a good idea. And that’s okay. It’s a well-known fact that if you play with fire, you just might get burned.
As I’ve put certain things in my life on the backburner (including this blog, for instance) to try and tackle another project, I have definitely spent more time in my head than usual. It’s been both eye-opening and frightening. The wheels are always turning , and even when I’m still being “productive” it can become exhausting on a dangerous level.
So, own it. You must own it. If you don’t own it, it will end up owning you.
Realizing that some of the worst aspects of having bipolar disorder are also some of the best ones makes it easier to use the illusion of ignorance to take advantage of it. You may love it, you may hate it, but you must own it.
It does get easier, though, but not because you get used to it. You just learn to try and brace yourself in a kind of frenzied preparation. No, it doesn’t always work, but you must take advantage of the times when you have some semblance of control. Sometimes you just have to grit your teeth, brace yourself, and hope for the best.
I’ve spent a lot of time lately (more time than usual) trying to be purposefully self-reflective for a bigger project, and although I am thankful for the temporary gift of impulse control and the like, it’s still not hard to get lost in the internal chaos of my mind. And that’s what it is: an intense state of internal (and eternal) chaos that if it’s not completely debilitating, it controls and ultimately destroys you.
I’m going to return to this blog, not daily, but at least a couple days a week. This is an outlet that lets me share my experiences to help spotlight the topic of bipolar disorder. I hope I’ve done that without coming across as abrasive or pretentious. But I can’t worry about that now.
If all remains the same, March and April will be when I become manic. Maybe it’s because Spring is my favorites season. I used to look at it as a kind of personal beauty, accompanied by an intensity that can only be described as exquisite and capacitating. It ends up zapping you of everything, though. You become drained to a point of complete depression. The cycle is always the same, just like the directions on a shampoo bottle: Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
It’s almost March, and if I continue to share on this blog during this upcoming “event” or period of time, there’s no telling how it’s going to come across. I may be rambling about anything or I may not. We’ll see.
I just have to learn and accept that sometimes to stand out it’s better to just blend in.
“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.”
– C.S. Lewis
I have recently (and finally) set out to work on a “bigger project” I’ve imagined for some time now. I’ve only just gotten to the point in attempting to pursue this particular endeavor after both exhaustive research and personal experience.
My blog is very much centered around how bipolar disorder has impacted my life. I myself have to take a more critical, fact-based approach when viewing and interpreting the intricacies of this illness. I have to understand on a very black-and-white level what this journey entails for me.
But knowing facts and statistics doesn’t make one understand what “the beast” is or how it likes to feed. I’ve needed to step outside the box to get a different grasp on things for some time.
In order for me to make the leap to this new “project” I needed to at least try and see things from a different perspective. Unfortunately, it’s the perspective that so plagues and saddens me. So, I decided to speak with ten different “normal” people from various backgrounds to get a better sense of at least why people feel the way they do about the disorder. Whichever way that may be.
I initially went into this task asking why before even asking any real basic questions. It only cast a huge spotlight on my own personal bias. And perhaps just a little bitterness. But that’s for me to bear.
I haven’t the time to share all ten people’s views here or even list all the questions I asked. I thought I would share a few, though. I didn’t get all the answers I wanted, but the process helped me pack up some of my confusion and maybe created a little window of understanding.
WHAT IS BIPOLAR DISORDER AS YOU UNDERSTAND IT?
FEMALE, 52: “It’s a chemical imbalance in the brain that can be treated with medication. It can be difficult to find the correct medication or combination of medications to help. This medication may need to be changed over time due to changes in the body with age and becoming resistant to meds. It becomes very important to stick to your med schedule. See a doctor before making any changes. Don’t make any changes on your own.”
FEMALE, 26: “Bipolar disorder is a mental disorder accompanied by periods of mania and depression. People with bipolar disorder cycle through ups and downs. It can be a very dangerous illness if not treated properly.”
MALE, 30: “It’s a disorder that usually rears at its peak in your 20s. Opposed to an intellectual disability that is diagnosed only before the age of 17. It usually hits women earlier in the 20s rather than men. There’s no cure but there are medications that can manage the signs and symptoms of the disorder.”
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE STIGMA?
FEMALE, 52: “It can be scary because you don’t know what might happen especially if they are cycling and if one is not seeking treatment. It is portrayed in a negative way. I think it’s important for them to get treatment and try to stay well. Try not to draw attention to oneself and don’t forecast your information. People need to be shown as everyday people living their everyday lives.”
MALE, 44: “It’s sad that such stigma does surround mental health and it’s not right. Many people choose to not understand and hide behind that in order to not have to deal with the truth. The truth is real and can be scary, but it’s still the truth. In a world that has become so “diverse” and “accepting it’s amazing to me how we haven’t at least come a little bit further along when it comes to mental health.
MALE, 30: “It’s hard for me to say. I’ve worked around several individuals with bipolar disorder so the way I see it is pretty objective. I think more people today understand that it’s an actual medical condition that needs to be managed just like a condition that is superficial.”
FEMALE, 34: “It must be pretty scary and daunting for someone with bipolar disorder to have to face that kind of scrutiny. But you have to understand it can be scary to someone on the outside who doesn’t understand the illness the way someone with it would. Most people don’t know what to do because you never know how a person with bipolar disorder is going to react.”
HAVE YOU EVER HAD TO INTERACT WITH SOMEONE WITH BIPOLAR DISORDERDURING A CYCLE?
FEMALE, 52: “I haven’t personally, but I know it can be a handful at times. The person with the disorder isn’t always in control and you may never know how they’re going to react to anything. This is when they’re going through their cycles. It’s not always the case.”
MALE, 44: “I have friends with bipolar disorder. One of my best friends suffers from BD and you know what? He manages his symptoms and cycles and leads a very productive life. There’s always going to be the ups and downs, but they can be managed with the proper protocol and treatment plan. So to answer your question…yes, I do have people with bipolar disorder in my life and they’re all wonderful people.”
MALE, 30: “In my profession I work with people with mental health issues and they are people, too. Just like you and me. They just have to work a little bit harder than others to maintain a balance. They’re is nothing wrong with bipolar people. You may know someone who has it and not know at all.”
Well, I could keep going, but I’ve worn myself down just transcribing the few questions and answers above. (Maybe I’ll come back with a Part II and include some more). I’m truly exhausted and even maybe a little more saddened by some of the conversations I had.
The stigma shouldn’t be considered stereotypical of the illness when it stems from either an honest inability to understand or sheer ignorance, one more excusable than the next.
The point is the exercise helped me kick down the door to begin this project. After researching, blogging, and sharing my experiences I just had that moment I needed. And I hope to be able to share more on this project with all of you soon.
So, if it seems like I’m a little absent or even M.I.A. when it comes to this blog, don’t worry. I’m just out here trying to change the world.
“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
– Haruki Murakami
I’m not entirely sure what the actual verbatim textbook definition of the word “chaos” is, but I know for me it can only be described as a constant state of mental confusion and disorganization that leaves me in a place of total loss.
In continuing this phase of “productive self-reflection” (at least while I can), I have to look at that word and take it seriously. It’s thrown around a lot, yes, but definitely not loosely. Chaos is exactly what it is.
To me, chaos is a much worse feeling or place to be in than that of depression or sheer mania. Chaos may be a sort of offshoot of depression and mania (or vice versa), but there is a very specific difference that doesn’t allow these feelings the wherewithal to be blurred or misconstrued.
Experiencing chaos during a cycle is a given guaranteed (I mean, duh), but that doesn’t ever make it any easier to deal with or handle. The inner chaos that accompanies a bout of depression and/or mania is blindly debilitating. Between the disorganization and the delusions, there’s nothing worse than being hyper aware that you’re totally lost. It’s an uncomfortable feeling at best.
My chaos is all encompassing, surrounding and infiltrating every little nuance in my head. It is both the storm and the aftermath.
For the sake of not sounding pretentious, perhaps self-reflection isn’t the best tool for me.
“The biggest gift of being unambiguously mentally ill is the time I’ve saved myself trying to be normal.”
– Mark Vonnegut
In our modern day and age it can be easy to get wrapped up in oneself under even the most “typical” or “normal” circumstances. But when graced with a mental illness, any mental illness, those of us afflicted can sometimes really get lost in our own slanted egos.
I know I’m just as guilty as the next person in this department. It’s not a conscious decision, though. Honestly, it’s like being the last person to know something about yourself when you should really be the first.
I’ve been trying to stay as reflective as possible lately, hoping against hope I remember my own lessons in self-introspection the next time some unpredictable phase begins to take the wheel. Never the case, but I can only do what I can do.
Many people who know me consider me a “pessimist”, and I no longer argue or adopt the “realist” angle; I find it’s too time consuming and usually scoffed at. I, more or less, consider myself to be a true cynic. And when I say “cynic” I mean it in a strictly philosophical sense.
“Cynic” may not even be strong enough of a word. The approach and viewpoints I have towards all things is more nihilistic in nature. I suppose the ideas could be considered interchangeable to some degree, but I’m not trying to mince words or argue behind semantics.
I guess my point is no matter what, my mental illness always defines me to some extent. Just not always in the same way. I’m either the elite outcast to a fault, or I stay crouched in the shadows, hoping no one will even know I’m there.
I’ll always be different because I technically am in a certain way. But so is everyone. Sometimes we just have to accept that in order to let go of what can at times be an overwhelming sense of delusional entitlement.
I don’t want to keep playing in extremes if it means I lose sight of reality. But my reality exists in extremes. There is no denying that. All I can do is try to be aware of what I can be and use that awareness to my advantage. And in the times that I lack a personal self-awareness I have to just manage. There is no cure or recovery from what ails me, only management. That’s depressing enough as it is, but I’m not the first nor will I be the last person to know that sense of lonely desperation.
One thing is for sure, though. I’m no better than anyone, even on my best/worst of days. Though perhaps unique in my own personal way, they most definitely did not break the mold with me.
“You know how most illnesses have symptoms you can recognize? Well, with manic depression, it’s sexual promiscuity, excessive spending, and substance abuse—and that just sounds like a fantastic weekend in Vegas to me!”
– Carrie Fisher
It seems the older I get the less I enjoy the mania. At one point in my life, though, I would have clung to it up until it completely fizzled out, but not anymore. The mania…well, whatever being or entity is in control of things can just keep it.
“Mind over mania.” It’s almost an oxymoron of a mantra as there is no such thing. At least not for me. When in the full throes of a severe manic episode I have control over none of my mental or cognitive faculties. When manic, I exist only on an island of delusions.
It is nice to be able to look back and reflect on a period of mania and have a true perspective on things. That’s not always the case, and the lines between awareness and disregard can become pretty blurred at times.
When I usually try and look back on how a manic phase has affected me and/or those around me, I always end back up to the “bullet points”. I love the “bullet points” just about as much as I love the lists of “coping skills”. I know. I sound pretty cynical and bitter, but I’m not meaning to. The clarity genuinely makes some past chaos all the more meaningful.
Looking back on a period of mania without the type of clarity I’m trying to describe is like trying to look through a dirty window into another: you can get the gist of what’s going on, but as a whole it’s never really quite clear.
So, today I hope to remain productively reflective for as long as I possibly can. If “first thought” really is “best thought” then I’m going to go ahead and stop now.
Not all days are bad days, and sometimes I have nothing in particular I need or want to say. So, I started a little “Spotlight” segment in which I talk about someone of cultural prominence who suffers from bipolar disorder. The idea is to use a “poof”-style piece to shine a light on said chosen person. It’s a personal exercise and challenge, and also helps make this illness just a tad more relatable. This is my second “Spotlight” piece, the first of which was on Vincent Van Gogh.
This one is on Kurt Cobain.
Kurt Cobain was born in February of 1967 in Aberdeen, Washington. As a child he was diagnosed with ADD and developed bipolar disorder later on in life. Never pursuing treatment, though, Cobain struggled with severe depression throughout his entire life, often turning to drugs to self-medicate.
Cobain is best known as the front man and main creative force behind the rock band Nirvana.
Nirvana began playing together in the 1980s but would undergo countless name changes and at least four other drummers before permanently sticking with Dave Grohl in 1990.
Although their debut album, Bleach, was recorded and released in 1989, it was their sophomore effort, Nevermind, that really cemented their place in history. Driven by the hit song “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, as well as a slew of other rock radio staples, the album knocked Michael Jackson off the top of the charts and catapulted the band to near-overnight fame.
This really didn’t sit well with Cobain, though. He never intended or wanted to become as popular as he ultimately became. He was labeled the “Voice of his Generation”, which also did not sit well with him.
As mentioned above, Cobain often turned to drug use as a means to handle the sudden onslaught of fame, along with other various personal issues. Cobain’s drug of choice was heroin, and he became extremely addicted to the powerful substance, even to the point of overdosing around family and friends.
Nirvana went on to release only one other official studio album, In Utero. It was a drastic departure from the material on their previous album, and was the album Cobain was most proud of.
Cobain’s songwriting skills are his most notable and spoken of talents, as he is often lumped into many “best songwriters of all time” lists. He was moody, bright-eyed, and honest in his writing, creating a mass appeal in all he did.
Ultimately, though, between his severe depression, his inability to handle public pressures, and his extreme dependence on heroin, Cobain committed suicide in 1994 at the age of 27. He left behind a wife and daughter.
One thing I must express is that you don’t have to use drugs or suffer from a mental illness to be creative or productive. Suicide isn’t the answer, either, yet I have no room nor am I in any position to even speak on that.
I only add this little tidbit because the subject of the last “Spotlight” piece, Vincent Van Gogh, also committed suicide. There are many amazingly creative and genius people out there who do not follow the same path as either of these two men.
I promise we won’t end this series on a “Van Gogh” or a “Kurt Cobain”, if only just to prove my point. Sometimes it’s best to just stay in the light.
“Even if you are on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.”
– Will Rogers, humorist
So, I’m not entirely sure where we left off, but I know it was somewhere around here:
From the ages of 15 – 25 I was in a total tailspin without being aware that anything was wrong (there’s a lot in that 10-year period that could act as a general testament to human stupidity, so we’ll save that for another day). However, it was right before my 25th birthday that it was more than clear that I needed help.
My girlfriend at the time, the mother of my oldest son, finally confronted me on my behavior. Prior to this meltdown I cycled pretty regularly. March to April was always a pretty manic time for me (perhaps because I love the spring) and had been for a solid 10 years; my girlfriend at the time put up with a lot over that decade and God love her, she did her best. By the time we had gotten to this bottom-of-the-barrel period of pure mania, however, the final nail had been put into the proverbial coffin of our romantic relationship.
No matter, I had totally missed the mark this go-around. March became April. April became May. And so it went until the great crash at the end of July.
Again, this was new territory for me, except I had no idea it was happening. I was on top of things. I had finished up my journalism degree at SIUC in Illinois. I worked for my college newspaper while also interning at our regional newspaper. On top of that, I worked a retail job and am a father. I stayed busy and was on top of my game.
This proved to not be the case, however.
My girlfriend and grandmother staged the closest thing as humanly possible to an intervention, which is why I will never take part in one. I was pretty much told that I wasn’t “invincible” and was going to lose everything or die if I didn’t “go somewhere”, which I might add was more than offensive at the time. Go where? A hospital? And why would I want to do something like that?
But I was going out and drinking all the time. Four to five days a week, if not more. Still somehow able to skate through my day-to-day life, managing my personal and professional obligations better than anyone else I knew. Again, I was the only one who saw things this way.
I was unravelling. I was climbing up on my roof for no logical reason, sober. I attempted to pressure wash my house at 3 a.m., sober. Etc., etc., etc. It was acts like these, along with all the other manic and delusional behavior, that began to scare people.
Ironically enough, the crash was almost precipitated by an actual crash. After agreeing to “seek help” by means of “hospitalization” I must have changed my mind because I jumped out of a vehicle going about 55 mph and took off running down a side road off of the highway. I was miles away from home and so my trek on foot lasted only as long as it could. I called my ride and got picked back up soon after.
There was no need for hospitalization at this point. I was aware that this was the crash, and the depression would soon be on its way. But first, I needed the crash. And that’s exactly what I did.
And then the burn. Nearly two weeks of picking myself back up just to be hit with the realization that yes, I needed to, at the very least, schedule a doctor’s appointment.
It took another couple of months to get in with a psych doctor, but I didn’t have time to let that be an issue. I was still operating on autopilot after this most hard comedown. Once I got in, though, I took every second of it seriously.
My relationship with my girlfriend was over and had been for some time, but she still wanted me to be okay. If only for our son. Ten years had taken its toll.
But I started seeing a psych doctor and a counsellor regularly. I got on my first of what would be countless medication regimens. And things began to stable out and make sense. I was initially worried about the medication game, but hey, if you need them, you need them.
After several months into my treatment, I accepted a job as a digital content producer at a tri-state television news agency and began to move forward.
I was picking up the pieces and moving forward and that’s all I could do.
It wasn’t too long after that I met the woman who would steal my heart and totally change my world forever…
“For me, the first sign of oncoming madness is that I’m unable to write.”
– Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life
It’s funny how certain traits and talents go when in the throes of either a manic or depressive period. And it’s funny how others become amplified.
Well, as someone in between cycles and bracing for a bout of full-on depression, it really isn’t that funny. Just an interesting observation.
For me, as both a journalist and someone who is just passionate about writing, it is one of the first of my abilities to go when I’m cycling.
I have what is known as rapid cycling bipolar disorder. So, although I know when I’m “high” or “low”, I have very little down time in between cycles. And sometimes both the mania and depression even coexist.
Everyone of us is different, but I totally lose all faculties that stem from the root of my creativity.
No, I’m no James Patterson or anything, churning out material like it was ticker tape. But I like what I have so I’d like to keep it. It’s impossible, however, for me to even rhyme-scheme when manic or depressed.
I know for others with bipolar disorder it’s the complete opposite. Mania can be like throwing fuel on a fire for some. It used to be like that for me; I’d use the mania to my advantage for every little possible thing. Those days are long past, though. These days when I try to create during a manic phase the results are (no pun intended) depressing.
I don’t even try to create when I’m in a depressive state. When I was younger and tried to write when depressed, all that would pour out of me was pretentious poetry that, to this day, I still cannot revisit.
So, although this post is nothing extensive or special, it displays some degree of clarity so I must be operating at a somewhat “normal” level.
If anything changes, you guys will be the first to know.
“Depression is being colorblind and constantly told how colorful the world is.”
– Atticus, Love Her Wild
Most people know that bipolar disorder is a mental health condition characterized by extreme mood swings. That’s about as much as they know, though; the rest is just assumed. But anyone with bipolar disorder knows the feeling of the crash and comedown that comes after a bout of mania or hypomania. It is a literal crash-and-burn scenario. It’s like falling from the sky and colliding straight into the dirt at warp speed.
But it’s not the crash or the burn that hurts the most. It’s the period after where I feel nothing but loneliness and despair. This is the beginning of a major depressive episode.
I am admittedly hypocritical when it comes to depression. My depression, specifically. I seem to only understand how brutally severe it can be unless I’m in that state of mind. Otherwise, I just don’t get it.
I know, I know. It makes little if any sense coming from someone all too familiar with the affliction. But it’s true. I think that’s partially why it hits so hard. I have no understanding of the intricate design of my depression until it happens.
I sit here now in a “level” state of mind and am wondering why I’m even trying to accurately describe the torture of it. I’ve read other people’s testimonies on depression specifically and can both agree and relate. But there’s still something about my depression I can’t even understand or describe. The words just aren’t there.
So, as I’m sitting here, still in a “level” state of mind, I wonder why I’m even trying to find the “right” words to describe my depression. They can stay missing for as long as they want.
Looking for answers to the wrong questions can be dangerous, and there’s nothing more frightening than getting stuck in one’s head.
“In heaven, all the interesting people are missing.”
–Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche said faith is not wanting to know what the truth is. And as a dutiful nihilist, I would be remiss to even try and feign a belief in a Christian God. Having said that, I also suffer from a deep fear that I may be wrong in the belief system I so strongly cling to.
I am extremely conflicted on the issue yet remain steadfast in not believing in the God that most have come to know and ultimately worship.
I do not believe in organized religion at all. I also personally can’t entertain the idea of blind faith leading one to their eternity. Anyone can phone it in in the name of whatever they are chasing, but I can’t bring myself to play along. If I’m going to sell out, the payoff better be worth my time.
So, my question is can I blame my lack of faith and my cynicism surrounding the issue on my disorder?
Yes and no.
The constant back and forth between the highs and lows that accompany this illness can send me into a state of pure hopelessness. This in turn can create a downward spiral of self-doubt that I only get lost in.
I am only putting a spotlight on this issue because I am genuinely curious myself. I don’t mean to sound pessimistic or cold, though even I can see how I may come across.
My illness may not have any effect on which religion I practice or which god I pray to, but it does hinder the process of maintaining such a faith-based belief system. A belief system that takes dedication and commitment.
Dedication and commitment I have no understanding of.
So, does mental illness play a role in my lack of faith, or does it only slow down the process one must go through to reach true faith?
I don’t have answers to any of these questions, just thoughts and opinions. But since I don’t believe one can ever truly reach a state of complete knowledge and awareness, these thoughts and opinions will just have to do.
“For too long we have swept the problems of mental illness under the carpet… and hoped that they would go away.”
– Richard Codey
Whoever said “hope springs eternal” never offered me any sound advice on the mantra.
Despite being someone who operates from a place of hopelessness, hope seems to be all I have at times.
Though it’s always been the case, I’m finding it harder and harder to accept. I don’t feel like I could ever know what “true” hope is without being phony on a level I could never be okay with.
No known cause. No existing cure. Just managing the in-between areas of the highs and lows. The aesthetics of the situation are dull, even repulsive at times.
That being said…there do seem to be more “easy” days than not. I’m doing my best to hold out hope that that remains to be.
As a husband and a father, I continue to hold out hope just for hope’s sake.
Even in times of sheer hopelessness, there is always some sliver of something, I’ve learned. If not hope then a mild form of something similar, and I’ll take it.
So, even when the darkness seems to be all encompassing, I’ll at least try to stay aware that hope exists somewhere outside the scope of my current field of “vision”.
I truly do hope that mantra is more than just an acquired confidence. But if not, it’s one I hope to acquire.
As I’ve mentioned before, there is no one, direct cause when it comes to bipolar disorder. However, it is known that approximately 80% of the cause has been traced back to genetics. And with the heritability rate of bipolar disorder being off the charts, it’s only natural for me to wonder who is responsible for passing this on down the line to me.
Right?
It’s a joke, yes, but one that I stumbled upon honestly.
I have been on this journey of “true” self-knowledge for more than 15 years so I’ve learned to pick up on my own cues for the most part. But if a major part of this affliction is hereditary then I feel I deserve to know a little more.
I’m not being facetious in wanting names or anything. I just feel if genetics plays a major role in my particular “predicament” I deserve to have AT LEAST a vague outline of things.
Sometimes…most of the time…I have no idea whether I’m coming or going so a little clarity couldn’t hurt. May not help, either. In fact, it probably wouldn’t so I’d just be happy with another shot in the dark or just some more hope.
Now before I begin to sound any more pretentious or whiny, I know I’m not alone in having to deal with this process of acceptance and self-awareness. At this point, however, I just assumed I was past this part of the process. But as with the bouts of mania and depression, the process of “figuring things out” on a higher level is in of itself a big cycle. A vicious cycle. And one that has enough “lessons” to last a lifetime.
I may never get the answers I want. Or like. We in the bipolar community may have to just get used to it, but it doesn’t mean we have to like it.
I may never learn the direct cause of my bipolar disorder. But I do know there are many effects. These highs and lows are all effects. The way my behavior affects others around me is an effect. But so is my fight onward.
Cause and effect. There’s a cause to every effect. I just ask that, for the sake of myself and millions of others, you don’t take the effect and make it the cause.
“I’m so happy because today I found my friends, they’re in my head.”
– Nirvana, Lithium
There are dozens of different medications available on the market for the treatment of bipolar disorder, yet one has remained the main go-to for nearly a century.
I’m talking about lithium. For more than 70 years, lithium has been the “gold standard” drug usually prescribed after getting one’s initial diagnosis. After all this time it is still considered to be one of the most effective medications for the disorder. But like everything else concerning this disease, the benefits can always come at a cost.
It was then discovered lithium was a good treatment for episodes of both mania and depression, but particularly mania. It has been used as a treatment for such ailments since the 1870s.
However, it was Australian psychiatrist John Cade, who in 1949 wrote one of the first papers on lithium as a treatment for mania, in turn making it a more widely prescribed medication.
Although used regularly since Cade’s discovery, the FDA didn’t approve the drug until 1970. Despite being one of the main drugs prescribed for the treatment of bipolar disorder, lithium, like any other drug, still has many possible side effects including:
nausea
shaking
dry mouth
frequent urination
diarrhea
weight gain
increased thirst
loss of appetite
kidney trouble
lowered activity
fatigue
emotional numbness or a dull feeling
There are, however, more serious side effects from taking lithium than those listed above. It is important to stay hydrated and get regular lab work done to monitor and prevent lithium toxicity in the blood.
Signs of lithium toxicity include:
trouble concentrating
confusion
fatigue
vomiting and diarrhea
poor coordination
muscle weakness, twitching, and tremors
an abnormal heart rhythm
seizures
Doctors will also check creatine levels to monitor kidney function. This is another long-term effect of the use of lithium. If creatine levels are too high this may be a sign of improper kidney function and can cause kidney disease.
It is still not completely known why lithium is so helpful in the treatment of bipolar disorder since a decreased level of lithium in the body doesn’t increase one’s chances of developing bipolar disorder. It is known, however, that lithium positively interacts with a number of neurons and neurotransmitters in brain cells.
Described in one 2017 study as “an oldie but a goodie”, lithium continues to be one of the more reliable mood stabilizers used for the treatment of bipolar disorder.
“Life is like a piano; the white keys represent happiness and the black show sadness. But as you go through life’s journey, remember that the black keys also create music.”
– Ehssan
Although the exact cause of bipolar disorder is still unknown, it is also unclear at times which is more important: finding the root cause of the disorder or determining how to treat the effects and symptoms. One would probably argue the first, but some of this disease’s symptoms and the extremes one can experience can, at times, outweigh the immediate need to know why.
Being a lifelong disorder there are bound to be some effects only noticeable and problematic over time. I have already addressed many of the general statistics relating to bipolar disorder in this blog so I’m not going to be focusing on those here.
Time takes its toll on everything, and the main changes bipolar disorder affects involve the brain. Research shows bipolar disorder damages the brain over time and can affect one’s memory, attention and ability to concentrate, and impulse control.
More research is needed, of course, but it is believed those with bipolar disorder have a higher likelihood of developing dementia later on in life. One study also showed bipolar disorder may cause progressive brain damage due to a lowered level of amino acids occurring over time in the brain.
Another study suggested a long-term effect is the frequency and severity of both manic and depressive episodes. The research showed the more time spent in a depressive state increased the likelihood of staying ill longer. The research showed those who spent more time in a manic state had increased chances of hospitalizations.
Research has also shown bipolar disorder can reduce gray matter in the brain over time. Gray matter helps you process information and thoughts, have better impulse control, and overall better cognitive and motor skill function. The greatest deficits found were in the frontal and temporal lobes, the regions of the brain responsible for cognitive function and thought process.
Interestingly, the results of a 2016 study suggested the blood of bipolar patients is toxic tobrain cells, seriously affecting the connectivity ability of neurons.
Another major reason bipolar disorder can wreak havoc on one’s body isn’t because of the disease itself, but the medication used to fight the symptoms and stave off both manic and depressive episodes. There are a variety of types of medication prescribed for bipolar disorder including:
mood stabilizers
antipsychotics
antidepressants
combination antidepressant-antipsychotics
antianxiety medications
All medications cause side effects of some sort, but those acquired by lifelong use can be different and more serious.
Lithium is the main go-to medication prescribed for bipolar disorder and one I myself take. It is a mood stabilizer and can be extremely effective for those with bipolar disorder yet damaging to the kidneys over time.
Other medications prescribed can have less serious side effects, but still be damaging in various ways over time.
Those with bipolar disorder also have an increased risk for developing the following illnesses:
thyroid disease
migraines
heart disease
chronic pain
diabetes
obesity
It is also important to note that any type of bipolar disorder left untreated is dangerous and detrimental to one’s overall health.
A disease with lifelong effects like bipolar disorder requires lifelong management, usually involving a medication regimen and some sort of therapy. Although no one has all of the answers, those of us with bipolar disorder can still apply what is known to our lives in hopes of managing our illness in the best way we can.
“I grew up in this kind of fishbowl existence and I figured, if people were going to say it about me, then I was going to say it first and I was going to say it better. It’s my way of trying to own a situation.”
– Carrie Fisher
I couldn’t have said it better myself and I won’t sit here and try to pretend I can.
My personal battle with the big, bad bipolar disorder has been a long one. Seventeen years, in fact. I was 15 when I was first diagnosed. I was 17 when I was diagnosed for the second time. But it wasn’t until I was 24 that I first started to seek out treatment. And by then enough damage had been done.
I love the above quote because it was with a similar attitude that I initially approached my openness about my disorder. I didn’t care. Everyone else seemed to know I was bipolar before me and it didn’t appear to be bothering them too much. So why should I care now? Why should I try and change anything now?
I, to my sad misfortune would later learn, was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a teenager — a prime time for such a discovery to be made! And then, for some reason, I found myself content just sitting in the soup for the next ten years.
I was “diagnosed” for the first time at 15. My parents and the doctor were not in agreeance, however. So, at 17 my when my parents kicked me out, I was diagnosed again. Two years had passed, though, and I no longer cared how my behavior affected anyone else. Not even myself. It’s not that I was angry or acting out of defiance or anything. I truly didn’t care what people thought about me, which at the time seemed like a good thing.
Looking back now, not so much.
Someone once told me that not caring what people thought about me was one of my best, and worst, qualities. Once I became aware of that, however, it became a game to me. I went out of my way to make people feel uncomfortable when they were around me.
This went on for years with me thinking the feelings and behaviors I was exhibiting was just an inherent part of who I was.
Which, in a way, I guess ended up being somewhat true.
Carrie Fisher said it best, though: own your situation, don’t let it own you.
Mirrored Madness: The Monster In Me 