Reflections on 2015

As I sit back and reflect on my goals and planned projects for 2016, I can’t help but to think about all that I lived through in 2015 and how that has shaped this year’s prospective.

This will be a quick read, I promise.

I learned more about myself in this past year than I believe I have learned in all of my life. I learned that I am more resilient and stronger than I imagined. I learned that psychiatrists and psychologists, though I may hate them sometimes, know more than I do because of their experience. Therefore, listen to them and learn to curb your ego.

I also learned to stop thinking I know better than anyone about my mental health because although sometimes it may be hard to hear, I need to listen to what others around me have to say about my mood and behavior.

And finally, I learned to take my medication each and every day. I have learned over and over again that I truly do need my meds in order to prevent a manic episode. Yet, I continue to get off them because I know better, right? Wrong!!! So, I learned in 2015 after 9 years since my initial diagnosis, that YES I really truly do need to take my medication every day consistently and continuously. Ok, got it.

And you, my fellow reader and confidante, what did you learn from 2015???

Sent from God to the psychiatric ward

I have heard this term referred to as Grandiosity, Delusions of Grandeur, and so many other variations, but they all mean and refer to the same thing: an elevated sense of self-esteem, sometimes leading the person to believe they are famous, omnipotent, wealthy, or otherwise very powerful (Wikipedia.org). I have often wondered why this happens, especially since it occurs more often in people with Bipolar Disorder than any other mental diagnosis. And, I have experienced thoughts of grandeur myself, to the point that during each of my two manic episodes, I have believed that I was sent from God to save humanity.

I have done some research on the causes of Grandiosity, as well as asked all of my psychiatrists, but no one has a definitive answer as to why this happens. This may sound odd, but I have even gone so far as to speculate if people back in the Biblical times who claimed to be sent from God suffered from Grandiosity. And if so, they were heralded as saints, not sent to a psychiatric ward and pumped with various meds. To make my point more clear, who’s to say I am not actually sent from God? Who’s to say my thoughts of grandeur during manic episodes aren’t a manifestation of God’s power? And what would have happened if I had lived in Biblical times? Would I be heralded as a savior?

Somehow, I doubt all of this, even as I write it. Why? Because I remember that in my manic episodes I tend to be a violent person when confronted by someone or asked to stop my delusional actions (e.g. trying to heal the sick). And from studies and research, I know that Jesus was a calm and patient person, never quick to aggression like I am during my manic episodes. So, alas, I am not sent from God, I am not here to save humanity, but I am here to get the word out on mental health and staying sane.

There’s a saying in Spanish that goes, “de poetas y locos, todos tenemos un poco.” Translated, it means “of poets and insanity, we all have a little.” And I do believe this is true, but I don’t believe I am sent from God. And if I get an inkling feeling that I am, I know it is time to up my meds and take a nap.

What I know and what I don’t

I have never attempted suicide myself, but an uncle of mine did once, and well, paid the ultimate price, his life. He was unofficially diagnosed by my mother and her sisters as Bipolar, whether or not that was true, we will never know. What I do know for sure is that he was pushed to a point where he no longer found meaning in his life. I also know that I have felt such despair that I wish someone would take my babies and just let me sleep. I have felt so depressed and in the midst of nothingness that all I wanted to do was lay in my bed and do and be nothing. Just nothing. This would usually come after a late night, a restless, sleepless night. Or, when I “forgot” to take my medication because I know better than the psychiatrist. Wrong!! So wrong!!

I now know that I don’t know more than any psychiatrist no matter how flawed I may think they are or how much higher my IQ may be, I am at the mercy of their education and experience. I put it so dramatically because that is how I sometimes feel. I feel as though I am helpless sometimes and not only at the mercy of the psychiatrists, but at the mercy of my mind. Why? Because it leads me to think things, things I should not be thinking. Like, “don’t take your meds, you’re fine”, “your mood swings are totally typical”, and my favorite, “you are not Bipolar, everyone else is.”

I also know that everyone’s life has meaning, no matter what you or others may think. And sometimes it’s hard to see through all the mugginess and fog, but believe me, your life has meaning. Whatever it may be, make it your mission to find it. Make that your daily goal! I dare you.

 

On Refusing to Take Medication

I avoided medications of all varieties for much of my adult life. When I was 36, I had had too much of my depression and opted to start taking Prozac under the care of a psychiatrist at Redwood City Kaiser. I stayed on anti-depressants alone until I was 47 when I finally acknowledged my bipolar disorder after a suicide attempt and added mood stabilizers to the list of drugs that I was taking. Why did I go so long before I sought relief? Mostly because of a prejudice that had been drummed into my head by my mother, a registered nurse, who believed that medications should be avoided at all costs and that my depression and manic swings were character flaws. When I stopped listening to her, the quality of my life improved and I was able to be the person who I always knew that I was.

Many people feel that people who refuse to take medications should be forced to take them. They cite incidents such as a New York City man who went off his meds and started hitting people with a hammer or a schizophrenic woman who killed her baby in a fast food restaurant’s bathroom. The recitation of such litanies by certain advocates who favor forced medication is stigmatizing because the vast majority of people who go unmedicated don’t commit such crimes. Their struggles are worse than those of us who don’t take them, but it is important to understand their reasons for refusing.

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Did the Meds “Erase” My Personality?

The thing I don’t like about being angry is that it isn’t the me that I want to be. It’s a nuclear fireball, a complete eradication of the rest of my personality. For a few seconds, everything that I love becomes less than a memory. The witnesses to my explosion see a six foot six inch tall brute with a beard screaming at the top of his lungs and waving his arms about. Wouldn’t you be scared? Wouldn’t you keep that memory in your head purely for reasons of defense?

These scenes came more frequently when I was soaring in and out of manias and mixed states. It isn’t hard to see that my anger could be tied to my suicidal inclinations. Because I could not and would not destroy the objects of my ire, I turned that impulse towards myself. One time too many it brought me to a place where I was studying the veins on my wrist. Beyond the eradication of myself that was caused by my disease, lay the prospect of self-annihilation as punishment or revenge.

Maybe now you can understand my reaction that came while I was planting vinegar weed at the Native Seed Farm. I had done something stupid — I had mentioned my involvement in the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance in a passing comment. Most people let it drop, but this one woman wanted to know more. What were the people like? Was I ever scared? And then the most stigmatizing thing someone can say about someone who takes his meds faithfully: don’t the meds erase your personality?

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My diagnosis is a blessing, yes I said it

After living with a diagnosis of Bipolar I for 9 years, I can honestly say that it is a blessing. What?!?!?! You may be asking as you read this. Yes, it’s true, having Bipolar is a blessing. Why?!?!? I will explain.

First of all, who else can say they can vacillate between moods within minutes of each other and still manage to stay sane? Who can laugh, sing, dance, and cry all while making dinner and with her toddler dancing along with her? Who can listen to a Pitbull song, and feel so moved by the upbeat tempo and meaning that she cries as she is driving to a work meeting? Who?, you may ask. This writer is who. This woman who has been called everything from lunatic, crazed, insane, impulsive, to say the least. I don’t consider myself any of those adjectives, rather I think I am eccentric, sane, responsible, and spontaneous! Take that Webster’s Dictionary!

Yet, I cannot do this alone. I have the support of my family, my psychiatrist, my friends, and now, my social media community whom I consider colleagues.

If you are reading this and have been recently diagnosed, I feel your pain. After my initial diagnosis, I was so drugged up on 5 different medications round the clock that I was a walking zombie, without emotions whatsoever. But hang in there, I know it’s easier said than done, but it is do-able because I did it and I consider myself a #Bipolar Survivor.

Bipolar Steals Your Life

Life begins at….?

They say life begins at 40, well for me it was two years earlier at 38. Two months ago, as I type this, I had my 40th birthday which was rather a dull affair – no party and just me, my fiancee, four cats and two dogs at home. This was my decision not to have a full on fortieth party like I have seen my school friends have via Facebook. I suppose I should explain why.

Bipolar diagnosis

At 38 years old I finally went to see my GP (General Practitioner) after constantly breaking down in tears one minute and then feeling on top of the world the next. The GP diagnosed me as textbook bipolar, especially as my mother has bipolar, and her mother was thought to have committed suicide due to manic depression (manic depression is now named bipolar affective disorder). Thus started the cocktail of meds I am now on. Although now I am said to have rapid cycling bipolar it is actually ultra rapid (according to my own research) but my doctor doesn’t like saying that for some reason. I can cycle between the two poles of mania and depression up to three times a day which is quite exhausting. The big problem in treating rapid or ultra rapid cycling is finding the right medication solution.

Bipolar medication

At the moment i’m taking an antidepressant, mood stabilizers and antipsychotic daily, with an occasional benzodiazepine when required. Now, this sounds like one helluva cocktail and you’re right, so how did I cope with an illness I most probably had since my early teenage years for 25 years?

Self medicating

The answer lies unfortunately with the same solution as many other victims of bipolar and other mood disorders turn to. Alcohol was my self medicating drug of choice. When I was depressed I would immediately turn to alcohol to lift my mood. When manic I would use alcohol to try and chill and even knock me out so I could sleep. So,you would think that in the stable times I wouldn’t drink wouldn’t you? Wrong! When I was stable or down I would miss the manic highs so would drink to try and find the euphoria I would feel at the top of my buzz. Although I did drink regularly, I abused alcohol rather than become addicted to it. I was however, drinking daily when I had my bipolar diagnosis.

Abstinence

Since my diagnosis I have had short periods of alcohol abstinence, and today I have had almost two months completely off alcohol even though my doctor did say I could have one or two beers a week if I fancied. Part of my abstinence is willpower of course, but its also the medication negating the need for alcohol, and also having the knowledge of why I was turning to alcohol in the first place.

Advocate and stigma fighter

I have now found my inner voice which enables to me speak openly about my mental illness, and I have even been on my local radio station a couple of times to encourage other people, especially men to seek help. A recording of one of my radio interviews can be found on my blog Latest Bipolar News, be sure to check it out.
Thanks for reading and be sure to look out for the next installment.