“Bipolar robs you of that which is you. It can take from you the very core of your being and replace it with something that is completely opposite of who you truly are.”
– Alyssa Reyans, Letters from a Bipolar Mother
So, I go in for my second ketamine treatment on Monday, and boy, am I relieved!
I did my first round a few months ago and I could tell an immediate difference. But the farther apart each treatment is the less effective it will be. In fact, it’s recommended to do six rounds in three to six weeks. At $450 a pop, however, that was just not realistic at the time.
WHAT IS KETAMINE?
Ketamine got its start in Belgium in the 1960s as an anesthetic for animals. Ketamine has since been FDA-approved as a safer form of anesthesia for people, as it doesn’t slow down breathing or heart rate.
But most notably, ketamine is getting a lot of attention as a more serious, long-term treatment for depression, PTSD, and bipolar disorder. It causes what doctors call a “dissociative experience”.
John Krystal, MD, chief of psychiatry at Yale-New Haven Hospital and Yale School of Medicine in Connecticut, described what this dissociation may feel like.
“Ketamine can produce feelings of unreality; visual and sensory distortions; a distorted feeling about one’s body; temporary unusual thoughts and beliefs; and a euphoria or a buzz.”
However, the drug’s potential as a treatment for depression and antidote to suicidal ideations has piqued the interest of many researchers. It has been studied and administered to people for decades with mostly positive results.
“We’re reaching out in a new way to patients who have not responded to other kinds of treatments and providing, for some of them, the first time that they’ve gotten better from their depression,” Krystal says.
BRINGING IT BACK HOME
After my first ketamine infusion, I felt an immediate sense of relief and release. It was so nice to not even be able to remember what being depressed felt like. But if you don’t get the full recommended treatment plan up front, the effects of the ketamine ultimately wears off. And you’ll know it when it does.
It’s also recommended that talk therapy should commence as soon as the patient “comes to” after the infusion. Ken Stewart, MD, expressed this same sentiment.
“It’s my sense that this is important,” Stewart says. “When people come out of this really profound experience, they have a lot to say, and these are people who have a lot of baggage and a lot of experiential pain. A lot of times, ketamine leads to an unpacking of that baggage.”
My upcoming ketamine appointment couldn’t have been scheduled at a better time. When in the throes of mania or in a bout of depression, reality can be fragmented and frightening.
Bouncing around between mania and depression isn’t easy, and if the ketamine infusions are proven to help then I’m going to do what I need to do to achieve some semblance of normalcy and relief.
“Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness, and loneliness they’re going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It’s hard to be a friend to someone who’s depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.”
– Stephen Fry
It’s been one of those days, and if it’s anything like the last half of yesterday then you can count me out.
It’s just one of those days.
I’d rather be down than manic, though. The mania can be dangerous and is exhausting on a whole other level. I in no way benefit from the mania anymore.
It’s strange because March/April is when I usually cycle and experience my mania. So, to be “depressed” or just down is unexpected and, to be honest, seemingly out there in left field.
Even my dreams lately (and I rarely remember my dreams) seem to be a place of ruin where nothing comes together, and sleep becomes a place of complete dissolution. This endless cycle is a prison, and also the only home I’ve ever known.
I have adjusted and adapted to this idea of “normalcy” rather well, but even that is not enough. In the end, it’s all just a matter of timing. Just got to wait for things to catch up.
When depressed, every day winds down to the same thing, the same occurrences, the same happenings, the same void that I go through on repeat. It returns with an almost obligatory vengeance.
My brain beats to a drum, it doesn’t tick to a clock. Still, I’ll remain on this eternal schedule of Hell. And they wonder why I don’t speak of God.
Blame it all on temperament, personality, or a chemical imbalance. In the end, it still falls back on me.
I would say I can’t be the only one with bipolar disorder who knows how well this disorder operates under the pressures of a job and in the workplace, but I already know that I’m not; it’s a topic that is often used when writing about bipolar disorder. It may seem like a tired beat, and I certainly do not have anything new to add to the conversation. My experiences are not uncommon or unique. They are just mine. But I’m assuming you already know that if you’re here reading this.
It’s easier said than done, but the words in the above quote are definitely words to live by if you suffer from the madness that is bipolar disorder. I feel this ideology is especially important to keep in mind when bipolar and on the job.
It’s not like you have a choice and it can’t be described as laziness, but on a baseline level that’s how it’s interpreted. What’s not misinterpreted, however, is when the “typical” or “normal” person needs a mental health day and it’s okay, but when a person with a mental illness needs one…well, you know.
If I sound bitter, maybe I am. All in all, though, I can’t totally blame the illness for some of my past excursions in the work force. I have to take some responsibility. That makes it hard, too: to not be able to control the decision-making process yet feel bad for how that lack of control comes across and affects those around you.
It’s especially difficult in the workplace. When it’s fine, it’s fine. But when it’s not, it can feel like the whole world is closing in on you.
Let me give you an example.
I have a degree in journalism and worked in the field for several years. I was a digital content producer for a television news station at one point. Not my dream job, but you have to start somewhere, right?
I signed a two-year contract with the station and worked diligently and on task for nearly that whole two-year period. Until two weeks before my contract was up when I told my boss I didn’t want to renew. Impulsive? Yeah, sure. But it gets better.
One week before my contract was up, I just stopped showing up. I just quit going in. I turned off the cellphone the station had provided and just cut all ties with all of my co-workers. And that was that. Five years later, I still haven’t sent that phone back.
But that’s the way it goes with me. I’m good for about two years and then I seem to sabotage myself, either because of a level of intense, paranoid anxiety, or just because of an unexpected loss of interest.
According to one survey, more than 88% of people with bipolar disorder say their condition has affected their work performance. About 58% of those people quit working outside the home altogether. This is due in part to the extreme shifts in mood, sleep, energy, and overall ability to function.
THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND WHEN LOOKING FOR A JOB:
interests
strengths and abilities
skills
personality traits
values
physical health
limits, triggers, and barriers
According to statistics, the absentee rate for employees with bipolar disorder is 18.9 workdays per year, while those without the disorder miss on average 7.4 workdays.
Stats are always daunting when it comes to mental illness, but they speak for themselves. I never wanted to be a statistic, even though I know, in many ways, I very much am. I don’t think I would be sitting here writing this right now if I wasn’t.
Like I said, however, my experiences in the workplace are not uncommon or unique. The fluctuation between sheer productivity and total incompetence (for lack of a better word) can be devastating in their extremes. So, one day you could be on top of your game and the next you may be on the chopping block.
It’s not all bad, though. I have been working since I was 16 and I’ve had more positive experiences on the job than not. Out of my 16 years of work history, I’d say 95% of it has been positive and productive. It’s that other 5% that’s the killer, though.
On a more positive note, there are some studies that suggest working can be very beneficial to people with bipolar disorder, offering a sense of structure and increased confidence.
It’s not easy to find and keep work with a mental illness that aggravates your day-to-day ability to function. However, with a little extra work it is possible to find a satisfying, yet manageable job.
“[ ] manic sex isn’t really intercourse. It’s discourse, just another way to ease the insatiable need for contact and communication. In place of words, I simply spoke with my skin.”
– Terri Cheney, Manic: A Memoir
It’s cliche, yes, but nonetheless it comes with the territory. Part metaphors, part exaggeration, “sex, drugs, and mania” pretty much sums up my personal experience with the dangerous and unpredictable nature of the madness.
I hate bullet points, but the symptoms and decision-making skills associated with mania, my mania, are about as textbook as it comes. Everyone is different, though, so mania can manifest itself in different ways for different people. No matter, the madness is still there.
For the sake of not hearing me ramble on about personal experiences I’m simply just going to hit on some points.
Symptoms of Mania
Abnormally upbeat, jumpy or wired – Check
Increased activity, energy or agitation – Check
Exaggerated sense of well-being and self-confidence (euphoria) – Check
Decreased need for sleep – Check
Unusual talkativeness – Check
Racing thoughts – Check
Distractibility – Check
Poor decision-making — for example, going on buying sprees, taking sexual risks or making foolish investments – Check
Check and mate, right?
I’m usually one of the first people who can tell I’m manic or on my way to being so, but I’m never the first person to mention it, which in a way makes it worse. It’s my fault, though, especially in the instances when I’m aware and can still acknowledge the onset of the mania. In a way, it’s like I’m waiting for some validation or something. I go from being curious as to what other people’s reaction to my behavior will be, to being embarrassed and ashamed when finally acknowledged. It’s a stupid, vicious cycle that’s on a constant loop. In moments of clarity, I can reflect and be aware of my condition and behaviors that I plan on avoiding in the future. Then, BAM! Back in the bipolar saddle again.
Whether depressed or manic, it always comes back. I can handle the depression, but the mania can take on a life of its own. And I’m far too old to worry about that.
But the bullet points are spot on. I need very little to no sleep. I’m outgoing at times, but I really step it up when manic. I would blow money like it was going out of style. And on stupid things. If it wasn’t on drugs or alcohol, it was on something equally unnecessary. I engaged in extreme risk-taking behavior (in many ways) and had no ability to see things in a rational, coherent sense. I become delusional, thinking I’m on the verge of a brilliant and great discovery or project. Other than not being able to control your emotions and mood that’s the worst for me. “Coming to” and becoming aware of how delusional I was. You believe it in the moment and then later wonder what the hell you were thinking.
I also get fixated on things. I get stuck on something while at the same time have no control of how fast my brain is moving. Cycling or not, I don’t have the ability to slow my brain down. And it can make everyday life just a little bit harder. At times, it can be totally debilitating.
It’s March and I’m a little perky (right on schedule), but I’m confident in my medication regimen. It’s worked well for quite some time, so I feel confident the mania may be lighter than usual or stifled to a certain degree.
March and April (springtime in general) are my bigtime months for the “sex, drugs, and stupidity” I can embody. However, having recently been diagnosed with a type of rapid cycling bipolar disorder I’m kind of used to the back and forth. It’s noticeable and, for my wife especially, can be very overwhelming and just too much at times. I can be over the top for a week or two and then be depressed for a week and then come back around to “normal”. Cycle continues in that sense. Wash, rinse, and repeat.
But I guess we’ll see. Hope the medication I’m on causes a subside to the symptoms.
As a musician and just as a human being on a very basic level, music is a key part of my every day. I’m making no correlation between the madness and the necessity of music in one’s life, it’s just a fact: music is a key part of my life.
King of and fellow nihilist Friedrich Nietzsche said, “Without music, life would be a mistake.” Is this just another extreme observation made by the philosopher? Should we just take it with a poetic grain of salt? I don’t know. I don’t know if life would be a mistake without music, but I do know I don’t want to find out.
For me, music is an escape. I have found, compared to my wife and other peers, that I am one of the only people I know who devours and rates an album by an artist as a whole. A lot of people hit up the radio hits and go from there (I still can’t listen to Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde without starting from the bombastic beginning and plowing through all the way to the end. Every time.).
I have to say the way we ingest our music and media plays a role in the output we get. Artists and, more importantly, record labels know that all an “album” needs is a couple Top 40 hits. The rest can be filler because it’s the singles that’s going to sell the record. So, it’s a known and very-well practiced formula (unless you’re Billie Eilish and then all rules are thrown out the window).
So, what kind of music do I like?
Well, I of course have already mentioned Bob Dylan. There is a string of albums the man released back-to-back over just a few years in the 1960s that reach an almost impossible state of perfection.
I am more a predominately rock n’ roll guy but have found numerous albums and other styles of music that I add to the spectrum. For instance, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill is definitely outside of my wheelhouse, but I honestly think it may be the last perfect album ever made. Now that’s an extreme opinion, but mine, nonetheless. With a list of “Favorite Albums” heavily clouded with Dylan, Beatles, and Rolling Stones records, the fact Lauryn Hill’s debut album cracks my Top 5 is saying a lot.
As both a musician and a fan, I have devoured The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, The Doors, The Velvet Underground, etc. But still, some of my favorite albums fall outside the main party line.
Both Sufjan Stevens Illinois and Seven Swans are in my “Top Favorite Albums”. Stevens has been a folky/electronic music hero for some time, and deservedly so.
Yes, I seek out the “album’s” album. I think the Rolling Stones Exile On Main St. is perhaps THE best rock n’ roll album ever made. The raw grit of the songs, the songwriting process, and the album’s creation says it all. Check it out. You won’t be disappointed.
The White Album by the Beatles is definitely up there with Exile. It’s a perfect collection of songs, and a perfect representation of how the band was working together at the time (not well). That being said, John Lennon is a personal hero of mine and I think he’s responsible for some of the best songs and albums of the 1960s and 1970s. And, yes, I’ll take Lennon over McCartney any day of the week (Shit, I’ll even take Ringo over McCartney.).
I’m admittedly bias as hell when it comes to this next one…but The Strokes have yet to release a bad album. Just saying.
In an attempt to wrap things up, let me pause to reflect. I remember one of my grandmother’s telling me at age 13 that my interest in the 90s “grunge” movement would make me “depressed” because those artists sang about drugs and suicide. So, to prove a point, I played Roadhouse Blues by The Doors (another one of my favorite bands). Her response was immediate and positive. “Yeah! Now this is a lot better! Listen to that beat!” I guess it didn’t matter that the song is a declaration of living in the moment in as raw and simple of a way as possible (“I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer/the future’s uncertain and the end is always near”). From that moment on anyone else’s perception of my musical tastes mattered not.
So, all in all, music is a release and an appreciation process necessary for me to function. I’ve always said I’d rather go blind than be deaf, as I couldn’t live without being able to listen to or play music.
Hell, maybe Nietzsche was only half right: Life without music isn’t just a mistake, it’s an impossibility and an unnecessary evil that should be asked or expected of no one.
TOP 5 FAVORITE ALBUMS (As of this writing and in no particular order)
“If I can’t feel, if I can’t move, if I can’t think, and I can’t care, then what conceivable point is there in living?”
– Kay Redfield Jamison
It’s been a pretty “blah” week on my end of things, personally and professionally that is. My wife has been sick, so I’ve tried to pick up some extra slack around the house while also having two young boys (5 and 7 months) to wrangle. It’s no one’s fault, but it left very little time for creativity to exist in any sense, blog-related or no.
I come here as a “blogger” to decompress in a very matter-of-fact sense, as well as to offer knowledge of my circumstances and experiences and how it relates to this illness. I don’t know if I benefit from it any more than anyone else, but it sure can make me feel better at times.
The past week has been one of what I call “stifled mania” (medicated mania), where the unwarranted energetic part of things has been there, but common sense has somehow miraculously prevailed.
Until now.
We’re coming to the close of the first full week of March, and it was not only expected but planned for. However, it feels a little bit different than usual this go-around. Perhaps it’s just psychosomatic, or because I’m on a different medication regimen than last spring. I don’t know. But I feel not only more aware, but also in more control. This latter observation could very well be a part of the delusions that can be expected to come in the next few days or weeks. But it’s a different form of mania and, I’ll be honest, I’m not a big fan.
We’ve still got time, though. By this time next month I may be crashing the walls and bouncing off the ceilings. I sure hope not, but only depending on what the alternative may be. And I hope it’s not this.
But I mainly wanted to check in. I’ll be back a little later this week if not with anything but an update on this strange state of boring mania.
“Some people with memory loss really need to start writing down the stuff.”
– Anonymous
You know that expression “You don’t know what you got until it’s gone”? Well, boy, is it true! And applicable to damn near ANYTHING!
If the name of this blog (and literally all of my previous posts) didn’t give it away, it probably is no secret that I suffer from bipolar disorder. Not meaning (or attempting) to be funny, it’s a topic us mad ones have to laugh at or else we’d spend all day crying. Or worse.
There are many negative aspects to being bipolar. Believe me, I know. At the same time, I also feel (sometimes) that there are some good aspects of suffering from the illness. They’re not always obvious, but they are there.
But does the good outweigh the bad? Or is it the other way around? Ask me tomorrow and I’ll tell you something different.
“The older I get” has become a new, oft-used phrase of mine, almost a sad mantra of some sort. But over the last year alone I’ve experienced such a cognitive decline it’s more than noticeable. If only by me.
This is one of those instances where the good doesn’t outweigh the bad. There’s no other way to spin it, and it’s scary.
As someone famous once labeled themselves as being “well under the 30”, I cannot….but only by a little bit (the elders of the tribe would scoff if they knew my real age). Which makes it scarier! I shouldn’t be dealing with these types of things this early in life. Or so you might think.
I don’t mean to sound abrasive or whatnot, but it’s been a problem that scared me enough to keep it a secret. Until I couldn’t.
Before the forgetfulness got severe enough to scare me, I started having problems with basic motor skills. Just loss of coordination and perception. This went on for a couple of months before I got “busted” by my wife. After a few times of falling and losing balance one day, the jig was up.
It was strange having to discuss the issue like I had been hiding an affair or something equally dreadful. Of course, my wife wasn’t too happy and it actually kickstarted my deep personal fear of the problem. I was slipping, it felt like. You can take a hand. Hell, you can take the whole damn arm. Just don’t take my mind.
I then started forgetting what I was talking about mid-sentence. I’d forget the whole conversation, the whole subject even. I would get so embarrassed when this would happen with anyone other than my wife that I could almost cry. And sometimes I did. It’s like walking into a room and forgetting why. Except now I was forgetting to even walk into the room. It’s a metaphor, but accurate nonetheless.
I of course went to the doctor and got in with a neurologist. I’ve had at least three MRI’s, one suggesting there were two spots of white matter in my corona radiata and another suggesting there was no white matter at all. Things have been ruled out, just not ruled on.
I’m to have an even more extensive MRI done to hopefully determine something. It’s weird to want to know something is wrong rather than experience this type of loss and there be no cause to its effect.
Fortunately, upon doing some research, I’ve learned that bipolar disorder takes a toll on the ol’ brain. That’s what it is. Has to be. I’d almost bet the farm on it. Especially when it comes to loss of coordination and the cognitive decline.
Now this isn’t an everyday hindrance; 95% of the time I’m fine. Bipolar still, but fine. It’s the other five percent that’s troubling.
I can’t sit around and count the days until I’ve totally lost myself, though. But I’m still not excited about it. And maybe I won’t have to deal with it on a real serious level, but it’s the type of decline that’s been real gradual. Thankfully (knock on wood) I have not had any serious or even real noticeable “moments” in the last month or so. But it comes and goes. Which makes it even scarier.
I go back to the neurologist in April, and I don’t expect there to be any more of an answer than there was a few months ago. I’m not being negative, just reacting to what I’ve learned about this from the doctors so far: not much.
I’ll wrap this up before it turns into even more of a whiny, “woe is me” type of post, which was not my intention. But if I ever seem absent, and to a fault, fear not. I probably just forgot to remember it was blog day.
Again, us mad ones have to laugh or else we’d go crazy.
“Let your story go. Allow yourself to be present with who you are right now.”
– Russ Kyle
I wish I was blessed with the great gift of eternal memory. I see autobiography and memoir sections in bookstores (yes, they still exist) and wonder to myself how anyone could put their lives into any form of chronology. I can’t even begin to formulate any kind of clear, rational picture of what my life has been so far.
I sometimes wish I had kept a journal or diary of some sort when I was younger so I could remember more. I do feel, however, that when people begin writing in that specific stylistic narrative, personal truths get twisted and extremes get embellished. Once submerged into the re-creation of one’s life, journals and diaries often become fictionalized accounts of reality.
My life, though, for the sake of only a little bit of remembrance, appears to me in broken, fragmented passages of cloudy polaroids. But I do think there is something special in the knowing – the remembrance – of one’s life.
I consider myself lucky, though, because I have learned that with the “madness” comes a resounding, yet empty silence. And that’s okay. The older I get the less I can remember about the “madness”. It’s not completely necessary to know what happened to know that it happened, though. There is always a beginning to everyone’s story, no matter how fictionalized it has become over time.
It’s true. The older I get, the less I remember. I think that’s how it goes, though. I’m not atypical in that regard. But I have to wonder how much of this loss of remembrance is due in part to the “madness”. I know it plays a role in these types of things. I know that. And that’s terrifying.
I won’t get into statistics this time around, but they are also terrifying. They make it hard to be able to enjoy the moment. You’re definitely living in the moment, though. Living in the moment going 100 mph on the edge of a razor blade. It comes with a tragic intensity that can only be described by the gods for there are no words that could adequately sum up the hell that is the “madness”.
Now, that may seem a little extreme, but it’s not by much.
We weren’t built to last. Apparently, we weren’t built to remember either.
Hell, now even I can’t decide which is worse: knowing and remembering, or the alternative.
“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.
You hear it at the beginning of every year. “New year, new me.” It hardly ever seems to work out that way but it’s a nice thought. If you are one of the lucky ones, though, then good for you. I say that with no condescension. Honest. But for approximately 5.7 million Americans it may not be so black and white.
New year, new me. For me, part of that expression has always been just the opposite. The expression “New year, SAME me” is a little more on the spot. And “SAME me” is not someone I have always been proud of.
To break it down even further, “SAME me” is not always the “same” me. Sounds complicated, right?
Let me try and clarify.
Those who do not suffer from bipolar disorder may not understand exactly what I mean by that, but I’m sure anyone with the disease can relate.
The extreme highs and lows accompanied by the bouts of mania and the depression all play a role in what kind of “person” I, we, come across as.
So, dramatic? Maybe. Inaccurate? Not entirely.
I wish I had the complete ability of control and awareness when in the moment, but it’s usually not until later when I realize how my behavior caused me to look and come across as.
I was once told by a family member that they didn’t reach out to me more often because they never knew how I was going to “react”. I wasn’t angry after hearing this, surprisingly. Not at all. I was embarrassed. It put a spotlight on something I wish would’ve remained hidden in darkness.
I know enough to know (even if a little too late at times) that I am not always the way this particular family member was referring to when making that comment, one that was perfectly honest and harmless.
Despite it being innocent enough, the comment offered me more perspective than I ever had on the matter. Once again, I became aware of my behavior and attitude just a little too late.
Awareness.
Being aware. Being aware and staying in control of one’s faculties at the same time. I’ve always described bipolar disorder as knowing completely and fully the difference between right and wrong yet having no control over how you react no matter the situation.
According to the Mental Health Foundation, nine out of ten people with mental illnesses say that stigma and discrimination have a negative effect on their lives. With that being said, this fear and shame makes it harder for one to be in control of the “person” who is coming across.
Unfortunately, those with bipolar disorder will undoubtedly encounter someone who will judge or determine their character based off of their interaction with them. Or off just their diagnosis alone.
An APA report shows that a majority of Americans believe that mental health is just as important as any other health concern. According to the report, 87% of Americans said having a mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. 86% of Americans said people with mental health conditions can get better.
Which is great to see in 2022. Yet the stigma still exists and also plays, I believe, a subconscious role into how one with a mental illness reacts in any social situation.
So, new year, new me? I don’t know. New year, SAME me? I sure hope not. But here’s to putting my first foot forward every day, 2022. That’s my resolution.
Just remember: one day at a time. Even if it is only the first.
“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.
“Anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strength.”
Charles Spurgeon
It goes without saying those dealing with bipolar disorder have to handle themselves on a day-to-day basis. Second-to-second, at time. Although I wouldn’t have began the day describing it that way, I could sense the resolve of Christmas and the weekend happening at the same time and knew there would surely be some major, stressful shift in my life. Had to be.
Of course, naturally, there was already a shift of some sort happening in everybody’s lives: the Christmas holidays were ending, bring on the new year. But I knew lingering on this type of thinking could be a trigger for me. A trigger for something a little more grandiose.
It usually begins to manifest itself in the form of worrying. Extreme worrying. Worrying and anxiety that I have never been able to accurately describe.
As the day went on though, I sort of just stayed “hidden” from the idea of something happening. It was genuinely like I was playing hide-and-seek with just the notion of something possibly happening. I was handling myself fine, but I still felt like I was barely getting by. It’s the emotional equivalent of having too much toast and not enough butter: less serious than you can imagine but deathly worrisome, and in the worst way.
I was beginning to feel like this was one of those days I should’ve stayed in bed. My silent worrying was turning into silent paranoia, and I wasn’t sure if it was showing or not. I was really just trying to stay hidden, hoping I was protected from this day’s unpredictable bullshit by some sort of cosmic invisibility.
However, that was not the case and I knew it. But I also had no idea of what I was trying to keep at bay. My worrying and anxiety, of course, but more so from where it was coming from. Which was where?
I was trying to keep whatever dread was going on just below the surface, though. And I did. A true shift of the paradigm. I made it through the silent chaos in my brain.
I always do, but that doesn’t mean each time isn’t just as difficult as the last. What exactly did I do anyway? Stress about something that even I knew wasn’t real?
That’s how it goes, though. But the main takeaway was that I caught the trigger before it got pulled. I spent the day worried and anxious over an invisible fear, but I did not let it turn into something more personally destructive.
Sometimes I feel like I’m headed for a hopeless destination. And if life is the journey then why I even be on it? You’re getting nowhere fast. And where you are going is worse than the route you took.
But I conquered the day and was able to get into my bed and hide under the covers, feeling safe and accomplished.
Yet already dreading tomorrow to see what little tricks I could pull on myself if I played my cards just right.
Even so, it’s a day-to-day journey and you can’t skip ahead any. And why would you want to? There’s no point. Stress and anxiety, mania and depression, they don’t have to follow you; they know exactly where you are at all times. But we must push through. It’s all we can do.
Plato once said, “Nothing in the affairs of men is worthy of great anxiety.”
“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.
“Where would the memoir be without bipolar writers? I mean,…I’m not accusing every memoirist of being bipolar. But I think in a way it’s kind of a gift.”
– Ayelet Waldman
Jimi Hendrix. Vincent Van Gogh. Jean-Claude Van Damme. Kurt Cobain. Carrie Fisher. Winston Churchill.
Throughout history there have been innumerable artists, musicians, and other creative powerhouses who have suffered from bipolar disorder. So many, in fact, it has raised the question of whether or not a link exists between bipolar disorder and creativity. New research suggests that might just be the case.
In a 2010 study researchers found those diagnosed with bipolar disorder dominated in the arts and humanities professions. Of the 1,000 subjects who were analyzed many were poets, musicians, and artists. According to this study, the likelihood of those suffering from bipolar disorder was 10 times higher than that of the general population. The study was able to show that “there is broad evidence that creativity and psychopathology are correlated.”
A 2019 pilot study of a small group of people with bipolar disorder found they scored higher on the Barron-Welsh Art Scale, a scientific test that measures creativity. Results of this study suggested “bipolar disorder is associated with creativity, but not necessarily creative accomplishment.”
Excellence in language and/or music was directly aligned with an increased risk for developing bipolar disorder, according to one 2010 study.
Another study even suggested that poets are 30% more likely to have bipolar disorder than someone in the general population.
What is known for sure, however, is that there is a huge genetic factor associated with having bipolar disorder. Researchers are now trying to determine if those same genes may produce heightened creativity levels, intellectual awareness, and productive output.
People with bipolar disorder have a certain brain chemistry and structure that allows for many of the boundaries in a “typical” brain to not exist in the brain of a bipolar person.
People with bipolar disorder have unique experiences which they feel at different levels than the “typical” person. Those with bipolar disorder have different emotional and intellectual perspectives that may play a role in the likelihood of having a high creativity level.
Although there does indeed appear to be a clear genetic correlation between creativity and bipolar disorder, not everybody with bipolar disorder will be overly creative.
Many artists and writers choose not to take medication for the sole purpose of maintaining a heightened level of awareness. On that same note, the perils of the disorder should still be heeded. Untreated bipolar disorder can be dangerous, even life-threatening, and is not worth the risk of being intensely creative.
More research and information is needed to fully make the connection, but current data does show people who are genetically predisposed to bipolar disorder tend to function at a more intense level of creativity and increased overall productivity.
“I hate when I tell someone I have bipolar and see a look of terror in their eyes.”
– Christine Kirtin
For me, coping skills are, for lack of a better phrase, a bunch of bullshit. I have no concept of any sort of coping skills, especially in the moments I need these supposed skills to cope.
Coping skills have always been, for me, a piece of paper with bullet points on it, handed to me by a doctor or therapist of some sort.
A list.
Take a walk. Journal. Practice your breathing. Count to 100.
It’s aways a list, and one that has never been applicable to bipolar disorder.
For me, anyway.
But there are many triggers that can be identified for bipolar mood swings and the most common ones for are:
Stress from major life events, both positive and negative
Learn the warning signs of a manic episode and get early treatment to avoid disruption in your life.
Take medicines as instructed by your doctor to help reduce the number of manic episodes.
To help prevent a manic episode, avoid triggers such as to caffeine, alcohol or drug use, and stress.
Exercise, eat a balanced diet, get a good night’s sleep, and keep a consistent schedule. This can help reduce minor mood swings that can lead to more severe episodes of mania.
Have an action plan in place so that if you do have a manic episode, those who support you can follow the plan and keep you safe.
And here is a list of general coping skills for people with bipolar disorder:
breathing deeply from the diaphragm
repeating calming words or phrases
visualizing a relaxing experience
reframing a situation logically
listening actively to another person
making an action plan
using humor to defuse a situation
taking time out alone
going for a run or walk to redirect energy
Just another standard list of what should be considered common sense, yet one that I can’t use or doesn’t apply to me when I’m having an episode.
I don’t mean to sound pretentious. Hell, I wish I could find a way to cope or a way to handle things better. It just seems most “coping skills” for bipolar disorder are more for preventative measures and do not include something I can use during an episode.
This isn’t meant to be an educational post and I know everyone and every situation is unique, but after everything, I still haven’t found any coping strategies that work for me.
The holidays can be a tricky time of year for someone with bipolar disorder. “Doom, gloom, and dread” often take the place of “peace, love, and joy”, creating a brand new can of worms that no one looks forward to. Not only are you not the life of the party, you might very well be its death knell.
Why are the holidays so hard for people who suffer from bipolar disorder? Doctors and research point to a variety of factors.
Buying into the build-up: It may be the “most wonderful time of the year”, but you couldn’t feel more alone and depressed.
Cycling with the seasons: Many bipolar people tend to feel more down and depressed in the winter months due to the time change.
Schedule changes: People with bipolar disorder like and depend on their routine.
Substance use/abuse: The temptation to drink or use drugs may come up during the holidays for a variety of reasons.
Too much, too fast: Shopping here, stopping there…It can take its toll on anybody, of course, but it can be a trigger for someone with bipolar disorder.
Overspending: This can already be a bad idea for someone with bipolar disorder. But with a reason it can be a disaster.
Missing medication: As busy and hectic as the holidays get it’s easy to miss a dose of medication without even realizing it.
Social anxiety: Not all family gatherings are pleasant and they can be even less so when anxiety is rearing its ugly head.
To tell a person suffering from bipolar disorder there are ways around these factors is similar to telling a circle to be a square: it’s a waste of time. However, there are some coping strategies that can be used to help avoid certain triggers.
Be open and honest: Let your friends and family know you may just not be up to all the festivities this year.
Keep a schedule: Make a schedule and stick to it.
Just say “no”: Avoid the illicit use of any drugs and/or alcohol.
Stick to a budget: Avoid overspending by creating and sticking to a budget.
Shop online: Avoid the stores and any other unnecessary social situations.
Avoid excessive stimulation: Stay away from things that could be a trigger of any sort for you.
Prepare: It’s hard to do, but try and remain aware of what is on the schedule.
Most importantly, remember that it’s okay to be selfish when it comes to your health and self-care. Even during the holidays.
Bipolar disorder is a mental illness that features extremes between manic states and depressive states. That’s your basic, textbook definition, anyway. What gets lost in translation is the fact that there is more than just one type of bipolar disorder. Whether it be from just a lack of knowledge or from all the convoluted hearsay surrounding mental illness in general, all things “bipolar” get lumped into one category. However, there are four different types and each one is different.
Bipolar I: Bipolar I is probably the most “well-known” type. With this specific type of the disorder, one must have one or more manic episodes lasting at least 7 days, often times requiring hospitalization. One might experience less severe hypomanic and depressive states, as well. However, these are not necessary for a diagnosis.
Bipolar II: This type of the disorder is characterized by having both hypomanic and depressive states. One must not have ever experienced a full-blown manic episode to be diagnosed with type II. Depression is more prevalent in bipolar II than in bipolar I, but those with bipolar II will experience hypomania, which is shorter spurts of mania.
Cyclothymic disorder: Cyclothymia is a milder, yet chronic form of bipolar disorder. In cyclothymia, the severity of the manic and depressive states are not as intense, but the symptoms of the cycles one experiences remain constant. These symptoms must be present in the patient for at least two years with no symptom-free period of time.
Unspecified bipolar disorder (NOS): This type of bipolar disorder is diagnosed when one exhibits both manic and depressive symptoms that do not meet the criteria for either bipolar I or bipolar II. One may rapidly cycle between extremes or feel both manic and depressed at the same time.
Just as there four types of bipolar disorder, there are different phases that characterize the illness in general, as well.
Mania: A stage of bipolar I set apart by irritability and energetic activity. Other symptoms might include less need for sleep, racing thoughts, engaging in risk-taking behavior like spending binges, sexual activity and substance use.
Hypomania: Hypomania is similar to mania, only not as severe. One experiencing hypomania may experience the same symptoms of mania, however these episodes are marked in shorter spurts than full-blown mania.
Depression: Depression is characterized by extreme melancholy and sorrow. Symptoms include sadness, loneliness, worthlessness, guilt, and hopelessness. One may have sleep issues, issues with appetite, sluggishness, and problems with concentration and focus.
Some people even experience what are called mixed episodes or rapid cycling.
Mixed Episodes: Mixed episodes refer to the existence of the symptoms related to mania, hypomania, and depression either at the same time or one after the other. During this phase, a major depressive state may be directly followed by a period of mania or hypomania.
Rapid Cycling: Rapid cycling refers to someone who experiences four or more phases of mania, hypomania, depression, and mixed episodes over a period of 12 months. This phase is not an uncommon one, but episodes are more random in both severity and duration.
Getting a diagnosis of bipolar disorder, no matter which type, can be scary. Initially, shame and fear may play a big role in one’s next steps forward. Living with the disorder can be challenging, frustrating, and present one with a slew of hardships that can make daily living near impossible at times.
Although there is no cure, all types of bipolar disorder are manageable with the right treatment plan, usually consisting of a combination of medication and psychotherapy.
Anyone experiencing any of the above-stated symptoms or feel they may be bipolar should contact a mental health professional immediately.
In finding some forgiveness of loneliness, and with a strange acceptance of suffering, I can now look back on it all with a dim understanding. It happened at a time when creativity existed within me at an exhausting level. There was a maddening frenzy in the way things came out of me, pouring with sympathy, yet offering nothing.
It was a late spring day, like any other. The afternoon sun hung in the sky, low and domineering, and the confused aromas of the season were in full force. Spring, a season with a natural thickness of rebirth in the air that creates its own swelter, is a season I’ve come to both love and hate.
I could sense the onset of the stifling evening, and the heat wasn’t even a factor. There was something else in the air contributing to my restless unease. Little did I know that day would be the end of an innocence I can now only barely remember.
***
We lived on a hill just below the county hospital, with a deep jungle of ditch lines in our backyard. On the other side of the ditch lived another family: a woman named Vanessa, her son, Allen, and her boyfriend Mike. As time passed my family formed some sort of relationship with “our neighbors to the south,” as they jokingly became known. We would have cookouts and pool parties. We’d all even go fishing from time to time. So we became friends. At the very least we were friendly.
Although our families had become rather close, no one noticed the shift in Mike’s behavior in the beginning.
That may have been because there wasn’t much of a difference in his behavior; it was more of a slight, unexplainable change in his attitude. He had always been a naturally happy-go-lucky kind of guy who, out of nowhere it seemed, started acting like a totally different person, like a mean drunk.
When the “change” in Mike did become somewhat noticeable, the people around him chalked it up to being nothing but a man going through a hard time, probably because of his job. Mike was a professional tree trimmer, and in that profession, it seems like you’re either raking it in or getting raked over.
Mike wasn’t just your average tree trimmer, though. This man would tackle a tree, be hundreds of feet in the air, and be anything and everything but scared or nervous. He had these great big spikes that he would attach to the bottom of his boots, allowing him to scale any size of tree with nothing but a few ropes and his chainsaw. I had the chance to see him work a few times and would watch, sometimes in awe and others in fear. I had respect for him for that reason alone; he was one of the bests at what he did, no doubt about that.
Little did anyone know, however, Mike was struggling with more than just a lack of work or with problems at home. Mike, along with my father, was a big drinker, mostly beer but an occasional bottle got passed around. My father and Mike both could become rambunctious, even hard to handle at times, but it was mostly innocent.
There’s that word again.
But then the occasional bottle turned into a steady supply. Still, though, no one was quite sure what caused this change in Mike. And no one asked. I think my family really believed it was troubles at work or home. I didn’t have any real opinion.
All I can say now is that it was much more serious than work troubles.
***
So as the stifling afternoon turned into an even more suffocating evening, I was eating dinner with my parents when the familiar red and blue flashes of police lights became noticeable through our dining room window. Usually none of us would have cared, let alone moved, but my dad jumped up when he realized which house the cops had gone to.
Mike’s.
We all ran outside to try to find out what was going on. But before we could cross the ditch line, I saw a light even brighter than the cops’ lights (there were several squad cars at the house by this time). I got across the ditch and discovered the bright light I was seeing was a spotlight, pointed up and shining into one of the tallest trees in Mike’s yard.
And what I saw next turned my full-on sprint into a disoriented jog. The light the police were using was shining on Mike, who had climbed as high as he could in the tree behind his house and appeared to be wearing a homemade noose around his neck.
At first, I couldn’t be sure if what I was seeing was real. This had all happened so fast. There was just too much going on. Too many people shuffling around and talking. Too many voices coming from first responders, unsure of what to do.
Too many lights.
And Mike…
The sight of Mike in that tree, standing on a branch with a noose around his neck…
I was in shock.
Mike started shouting down from the branch he was standing on. He wanted “everyone to leave and to just be left alone.” He was crying, yet somehow remained stoic as he continued his demands. My dad tried to talk to him, and Mike stopped yelling long enough to listen and say something I’ll never forget.
“Just get out of here. It’s too late.”
Before my dad could respond, a fire truck pulled into the yard. Immediately, Mike threatened to jump if it didn’t leave.
As this scary scene continued to unfold I noticed the big spike boots I had seen him wear before. Wow, I remember thinking, he’s serious. He’s beyond serious.
He was so high in that tree I wasn’t sure if the ladder on the fire truck could even reach him. If it even came to that.
No one seemed to be in any big hurry. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. Any sudden or dramatic actions could, and most likely would have, provoked Mike to jump.
No question about that.
As the fire truck pulled in and parked in the yard as close to the tree as necessary, a “crisis team” from an area counseling center showed up. My backyard had become some sort of neon nightmare with all the lights flashing across the sky, across the night throughout the neighborhood.
I wasn’t sure how this was going to play out by this point and honestly had become beyond fearful. It was an emotion I didn’t recognize at first, but yes, fear was what it was.
This was real.
By this time, of course, there was already a crowd of onlookers outside, steadily growing. I could hear police talking about the “tactics” they were undoubtedly trained for in these “types of situations.”
I may not have been alone in my concern for this man, but it sure was starting to feel like it.
The noise continued but through it all, through all the yelling and commotion, what I could hear most clearly was Mike, crying.
An officer approached my dad and I, apparently noticing the only person Mike would carry some sort of rapport with was my dad. They talked in voices I couldn’t hear, frankly not wanting to. But I didn’t want to leave either, which is what happened next. A desk-type cop barked at me to go back to my house and my dad made sure I did just that.
My dad rushed me across the ditch line and told me to go inside. I wasn’t happy with his demand, but I didn’t argue; this wasn’t the time or place. Before I could comply, though, my dad was gone, across the ditch and back over in Mike’s backyard.
But by the time he got back, it was too late.
By the time he got back Mike’s patience and belligerence had run its course, which were the only things keeping his feet on that tree branch he had climbed up to.
What was keeping his neck inside that homemade noose before he jumped I’m afraid we’ll never know.
But in one last bout of gusto, it was all over. Mike shouted something I couldn’t make out and jumped off of the tree branch.
And I wish there was something more to say.
***
Mike’s body hung in that tree for more than six hours after he killed himself. I’m sure the police and investigators would have some sort of explanation about “proper procedures and protocol.” But it didn’t make much sense to me, not then or now.
I remember as I woke up for school the next day (if I had even slept at all) there were still police in Mike’s backyard. Mike’s body had just been cut and lowered from the tree after dangling all night.
I stood in my backyard as Mike’s sheeted body was being loaded up. Seeing that made me realize I hadn’t yet processed any of this. There had been no tears, no time for tears. Tears were not part of the “proper procedures and protocol,” not for these “types of situations,” anyway.
My dad was outside, too, and came up to me. We looked at each other, the silence between us almost comforting. Exhaustion had become him, and I could tell that he hadn’t had any time for tears either.
I could see the morning sun shining through the trees, perched up in the sky as if being held up by the wood line and nothing else. It was as if the sun was even sad.
My dad wiped a single tear from his left eye and stood up. All of the police and emergency vehicles were gone at this point.
“They left the rope,” my dad said, pointing up to the tree.
And they had. I didn’t see it at first, but they had. Most of the thick, blue rope Mike had used to hang himself with was still up in the tree.
“Can you believe that? They left the rope.”
No time for tears, no time for questions.
We stood there in the backyard in silence for a long time. My dad finally spoke, telling me it was time for him to get ready for work for me to get ready for school.
School? How could I go to school just hours after seeing a man hang himself in my backyard practically?
My apprehension must’ve been on display on my face because my dad began one of his familiar speeches.
When my dad finished, he hugged me and sent me back into the house, and again told me it was time to get ready for school.
We as humans sometimes forget the damage our words can inflict. So, without being self-righteous, here are some things one should try to avoid saying to someone with bipolar disorder:
1. “I thought you were taking your medication.”
Although it’s not uncommon for someone with this illness to stop taking their medication once they feel they’re “better”, it’s usually not a topic of conversation that most people with bipolar disorder want to have or be accused of.
2. “You know he’s “bipolar,” don’t you?”
A comment like this can end up being counterproductive and even destructive. People with bipolar disorder don’t like to be reduced to their diagnosis.
3. “Everyone Is a Little Bipolar Sometimes”
This one can come across as really insensitive and is dismissive of a person’s experiences with this illness.
4. “We used to have high hopes for you.”
I mean, come on. It is NEVER a good idea to kill someone else’s dreams by being rude because one may have a mental illness.
5. “It doesn’t take much to set you off!”
Now this is a comment that clearly might set one off. Tearing someone down who may need you could trigger a bipolar episode, manic or depressive.
6. “Why can’t you just be happy?”
Oh, believe me, we try (and are still trying), but having a mood disorder defined by such highs and lows could quite possibly hinder someone’s happiness and overall mood.
7. “Everyone Is Bipolar Sometimes”
A turn of phrase that ends up coming across in an insensitive and dismissive way. Don’t generalize someone’s condition to try to make them feel better.
8. “You Don’t Seem Like You’re Bipolar”
The highs and lows associated with bipolar disorder come in cycles or episodes so there are periods of “normalcy” and being leveled out. Never assume that someone is okay because their symptoms aren’t obvious to you.
And now for my favorite…
10. You’re bipolar?
This comment can take the wind right out of my sails. Sometimes you feel comfortable and open enough to talk about your illness. But then you realize your family and friends are basing every action and reaction on your illness. Or is that my personal paranoia? That’s why that specific question/comment has always been hurtful and offensive.
Here is a list of 8 things from the article one should say to someone they know is suffering from bipolar disorder.
1. “This is a medical illness and it is not your fault.”
2. “I am here. We’ll make it through this together.”
3. “You and your life are important to me.”
4. “Tell me how I can help.”
5. “I might not know how you feel, but I’m here to support you.”
6. “Whenever you feel like giving up, tell yourself to hold on for another minute, hour, day — whatever you feel you can do.”
7.”You’re not alone.”
8. “Your illness doesn’t define who you are. You are still you, with hopes and dreams you can attain.”
Sticks and stones, right? Words can sometimes cause more damage than we intend, though. And this isn’t any kind of guilt trip; I only mean to help.
Be the positive, encouraging friend or family member to your loved one who is suffering from this disorder. There is no cure and there is no true recovery. There is only management.
“Recovery” is a word most often used in the realm of drugs and addiction, a descriptor of those who are abstaining from the use of addictive substances. This same ideology simply doesn’t apply to bipolar disorder, however. People with bipolar disorder never recover in the same sense as an addict might. We don’t recover, we manage.
Now, I know the old familiar adage of “once an addict, always an addict”, but we have to look at both ideas in context here. If one is an addict and is always an addict, then one must always be in recovery, according to that ideology. It’s not necessarily the same concept when it comes to having a mental illness, in particular bipolar disorder. One does not make the choice to develop a chemical imbalance as one makes the choice of using drugs and/or alcohol. It’s all relative, of course, but not really.
So, after all the semantics, does bipolar disorder get better for those afflicted by the illness?
Yes and no.
Scary, huh? Only make of it what you will, though. This is where finding the right treatment plan comes into play.
Yes, yes, like I said, it’s all relative. We, alongside those in recovery battling addiction, must get to our own breaking point. The definition of “rock bottom” is different for everybody, and everybody has to have their moment. When I say “breaking point” I’m referring to the moment that brings one the clarity needed to see that something is and has been wrong. Unfortunately, that moment of clarity is usually brought on by some potentially disastrous behaviors.
Although people suffering from bipolar disorder share similar stepping stones as someone dealing with addiction on their journey forward, “recovery” is still not an applicable term for those with this illness. Granted, there are just as many variables that come into play regarding both addiction and mental illness when seeking help.
Can someone with bipolar disorder have a normal relationship? Although it’s a question that is as ignorant as it sounds, I can, to some extent, see how it could raise some red flags for someone on the other side. But if your loved one has bipolar disorder, it is possible to have a “normal” relationship.
Okay. I can admit that I’m probably not always the easiest person to live with. I can concede that. But I was never so aware of how many “bipolar bullet points” I was checking off the list until my wife and I had a truly candid conversation about my condition.
She knows how I hate the stereotypical things one hears about bipolar disorder, such as phrases like “walking on eggshells”, etc. But once the conversation began, it was clear there was no way back from where we were going. I was the cancer, I was the cure.
I must be thankful the conversation came about the way it did, however, because A) it was organic, and B) I wasn’t experiencing any signs of mania or depression. Just curiosity. And from what I had heard it had killed the cat.
But ignorance is not always bliss and I decided that this was one of those situations in which that was true.
It’s strange how, like bipolar disorder itself and those who suffer from it, the “symptoms” a spouse or partner of someone with it may exhibit are similar.
Similar in the fact that they can’t be cured, only managed. And even that is a stretch at times.
When my wife began to tell me about some of my “extreme” moments and how she would handle them, I felt microscopic in size. Not in the “oh, woe is me” sense, but in the “how could I allow myself to make her feel that way” sense. When I asked how she was able to handle all of my behavior without leaving or going crazy, she told me she could tell the difference between me and the disease. She had taken the time to educate herself on what bipolar disorder is and had listened at all my appointments.
She also said it was important to communicate, when it was the right time to communicate. Again, I normally would’ve taken this negatively, like I was too fragile to handle a conversation. But because we were able to have the conversation, we continued.
She reminded me that no matter what the situation, we had always worked through it. Even if it’s one where I may not be totally aware that is going on; even being manic and/or depressed at times, I still contributed and offered value. She told me she watched for my “triggers” and kept an eye on certain behaviors.
What I wondered was how I could be so blind or, even worse, careless as to what my wife experienced or how she felt during one of my episodes. How is she still here? WHY is she still here?
She told me. And then she explained it to me. And then explained to me how I wouldn’t understand so not to worry about it. She said it’s just like any other relationship when it comes to honesty and transparency, communication and trust. They’re all “must-haves” no matter the circumstances.
Regardless, however, it was a conversation and/or situation that could have been handled or dealt with negatively and it wasn’t. And those are the types of situations one should put themselves into any time they get the chance. I plan to fully from this moment on.
And remember, if you can take it without lashing out or getting sad, then take it. Those are the feelings you need to feel.
Mirrored Madness: The Monster In Me 