My Own Version of Moloko Plus

today's weather: S L I G H T. D Y S P H O R I A
anxiety : 1 | agitation : 2
today's unwanted guests: creative spurt, extra energy with a feeling of fatigue (weird, huh?), voices and noises and presences. dammit.

For the past three nights I've capped the day with iced rum mocha. Plus 100mg of Diphenhydramine to help make me sleep (One little capsule does't work on me anymore so I popped two). My own mild version of Moloko plus.

Alex and his Moloko Plus. Pic from here.

Last night though I rethought my new night ritual because I was on the wrong edge of edgy for a few hours after drinking. My doctor will kill me when she hears about my experimental cocktail, if ingesting it doesn't kill me first. Racing heartbeat, excess energy, mild tremors, an urge to scream and laugh and run and fall down. My minor hallucinations were having minor hallucinations. I imagine would be the sensation behind Alex Delarge's tolchok sprees.

That's what happens to me when I mix stimulants with relaxants. I think my high school Health teacher taught us about this; no wonder. It reminds me of a time three years ago when I drank Red Bull while doped up on Unisom (althought last night's trip was not at all as extreme nor fun). Or this time back in college when ... uh, okay, never mind.

I felt so creatively inspired yesterday so I was tempted to skip sleep again. Swimming around in my head were design ideas and various matters of concern; I had to force them out of the pool so it could be cleaned for use the next day. Skipping sleep isn't good - that's why I took the Diphenhydramine.

I have no excuse for the rum mocha though, save for a sweet tooth. Maybe tonight I should just stick with a carton of ice cream.

mirrored | derorrim

today's weather: S L I G H T . D E P R E S S I O N
anxiety : 1 | agitation : 1

I bought a copy of Dean Koontz' novel False Memory from a used books store. I saw it a couple months ago and being drawn in by the back-cover teaser, I wanted to devour it. Autophobia, I thought, this will be interesting.

Too interesting in fact. Fourth chapter and loving it. But I now wonder if i should discontinue reading.

Koontz is a bestselling author of the suspense / thriller genre, the not-easy-to-put-down kind of read. The short reviews on the first few pages agree he has the skill to keep readers fixated - and readers like me will prolly prefer to sacrifice sleep just to pace with the story. But I'm not so worried about losing a few nights of shut-eye; I'm alarmed about something else.

I have not gone far into the chapters but I've found that he has accurately reflected my own autophobia in the heroine, Marty. Very eerily accurate:

... The paranoia that she can easily explain away logically but can't shake off emotionally.
... The sensed presences.
... The fear of seeing something in the periphery .
... The real way she doesn't want the non-real presences to know she senses them.
... The whispering voices in the tap water.
... The fear of looking in the mirror when alone because of the improbable possibility of seeing something menacing. The way she intentionally looked down into the sink to avoid seeing the mirror.
... The way she saw nothing new but saw something she did not recognize in her own reflection.
... The way random acts of violence kept flashing into her mind.
... How the sight of common household objects trigger creative uses for harm, suicide or murder

Dangit, Dean Koontz, you S.O.B; you really did your research.

On one end, it's comforting to know that my condition is typical - textbook autophobia common to many other individuals.

But with the way it fits my situation so congruently it will feed my own phobiae, paranoia and anxiety, especially now that I am depressed. And oh - the heroine's name is very similar to my own. And she also has a kind, understanding husband. And she is home alone like often am. They have a timid pet that she loves so much and talks to; we have timid pets that I love so much and talk to. The story is set in the rainy season. I see too many parallels. This clever chunk of literature is first-class fodder for my particular breed of neurosis, I should stop.

But the curious kitten that I am can't quite let go of reading it. It's too intriguing. Maybe I should deal with it the way I usually do when stuck in a double-bind: run it by the Hubby, hear what he has to say and let him put his foot down about it if he must.

wardrobe worry

today's weather: M O D E R A T E . D E P R E S S I O N
anxiety : 2 | agitation : 3
today's unwanted guests: fatigue, paranoia, anxiety, social anxiety, irritability



At around this time on an ordinary Sunday, I would usually be heading home with the hubby from Church Service, probably munching on a snack bought from a kiosk we passed while going around ATC.

But this isn't an ordinary Sunday. It's another one of those tearful freak-out Sunday mornings that started with the incredibly stressful conundrum of not knowing what to wear in able to get out of the house. Its not just one of those ridiculous girl things in which she thinks everything makes her look fat. It's a lot worse than that.

It started last night actually. I knew I had a service to attend Sunday morning, so I thought I might as well save time and figure out an outfit ahead of time to save trouble the next day. Well, I couldn't find anything satisfactory - a lot of my stuff were in the laundry, and most if not all of the clothes that I had left in the closet were, I realized, in urgent need of retirement; they were either too unpresentable or too "young" for someone my age. The things that were presentable didn't match each other; neither did they go with the only decent pair of shoes I had left. So I eventually got tired and went to bed. But I went to bed knowing I didn't have anything to wear the next day yet, so a good night's sleep eluded me. When morning came, I was happy that I was able to pick out a decent combination from freshly-dried laundry. The problem was I did not have the right underwear for it, making the ensemble unwearable. At wit's end, I informed the Hubby of my dilemma, hopefully to have another head think clearer for my already upset and muddled one. But in drawing his attention, I disturbed the focus on whatever it was he was working on and received an unpleasant response. I returned similarly unpleasant remark, and that all snowballed down into wasted time and energy spent, until it was no longer practical nor possible to proceed to our destination.

Another morning wasted on a wardrobe worry. Darnit. I just don't have enough words to explain how massively, immensely, terribly stressful it is for me to get dressed during a depressive episode. The limited choices compound with the indecision and obsessive-compulsive 'tude and the anxiety and the agitation, and it's just utter insanity.

Right now I feel so unbelievably rejected and dejected, the only thing I want to do is curl up. Energy is so low. I'm still hoping the day will end better, but that can't be up to me right now, because I'm too tired to think of how to create a better ending. I'm hoping someone else would do it for me.

There's No Such Thing As "Upset"

slight dysphoria
anxiety : 1
agitatedness : 1


I pondered on some stuff I recently read in the blog of a woman who lives with a bipolar husband, and something something that I heard on Oprah in one of those episodes on Bipolar Mood.  Here is my reaction paper of sorts.

People who live with bipolars have a lot to complain about.  I don't blame them; we bipolars are really difficult to deal with and it's easier to just dismiss us leave us, or stuff us with sedatives so we wouldn't be such a pain in the ass.  While those courses of action keep things civil at the surface, they're not really the right way to deal with things because it resolves nothing, it stops nothing, and creates nothing good. 

The first step in dealing with anything is to be informed.  If you live with a bipolar, it's counterproductive to just rant and blame.  Instead of just wishing that your mood-swingy loved one would change (or die) for your benefit, you have to be a part of the solution too.   It's very unfair to impose rules of behavior on them if you aren't willing to change your behavior yourself.  There are some things you and need to know and keep in mind.



One of the biggest complaints about bipolars is the anger.  Related to that is  impatience, irritability, crankiness, snarky language, and so on.



Here's what you have to understand: For a normal (not that we bipolars aren't normal), hormonally-balanced person, being upset is just "being upset".
For a bipolar, particularly in an episode, there is no such thing as "upset".There is no such thing as a "minor irritation".
"Upset" can mean having a strong urge to destroy something or hurt someone.
"Upset" can mean offended to the point of hopelessness.
I'm not kidding.
For a "normal" person, anger is a strong, potentially violent emotion .
For a bipolar, anger is a violent, explosive emotion. In a lot of cases, there isn't even such a thing as anger, just rage.

There's no point in wondering why their anger is often not proportional to the situation. 
You have to understand, it's hard to control.  It's just there, and it has to go somewhere.  He/she needs to express it somehow, and you have to help/ him her find a way to do that in the least violent manner possible.  Be firm if you must, but don't react to his/her anger with more anger.

It even might have nothing to do with you, so don't take it personally.  And yes, a bipolar in a manic episode can be happy and angry at the same time.

Can't imagine that? Just think of this guy:

"Let's put a smile on that face!"

There's nothing to fear though. It's not sociopathic; just manic.
Nothing personal - it's just hormonal.
Nothing psychological even - just biological.

How to avoid angry episodes:  As much as possible, you have to work together to avoid all possible triggers. Know what those triggers are - substances, situations, even specific persons - and help keep your dear bipolar far away from them.
When a bipolar is already enraged, there's no point in telling him to "calm down" because that isn't going to happen.
It's like telling the Incredible Hulk to chill.  Like he'll listen.

"You won't like me when I'm angry". Indeed.

Chances are, when you need to tell him / her to calm down, it's already too late for that, so you have to be ready with another course of action.

What should be done? The necessary thing to do is to remove or deal with whatever caused the upset / anger in the first place.  If it's a situation, find a quick escape route.  If it was caused by a person, confront that person before the bipolar does; it will be less bloody that way.

If the upsetting agent was you, just apologize.  Even if it's not your fault, just to pacify things, but bring it up again when he/ she is in a calmer, stabler mood so you can tell him/ her about what upset you (this is so you can have a healthy relationship).  

The chemical imbalance is due to a biological fault; the episode can't be combated by mere mental manipulations like debating or over-explaining.  Retaliating with more anger will further agitate your bipolar loved one, and he/ she will have no trouble releasing a barrage of verbal attacks that will decimate your self-esteem in no time. Take my word for it: shorten the war as soon as possible; employ a temporary peace treaty whenever applicable.

Avoid enraging the hulk to avoid engaging him. I can't emphasize this enough: Keep away from every possible trigger.





What works for me

Every bipolar is different, so you have to find out what works for the particular bipolar in your life.  In my case, "calm down" is not only useless; it's insulting (because it makes me feel like you see me more of a problem than a person).  It will only produce the opposite effect, and I will direct my anger at the person who said it.


I personally have found it very pacifying and much more beneficial to hear someone say, "I'm sorry," It's my fault," "I'll take care of that for you," or "I love you".
Let me just say I'm not trying to make excuses for our ugly behavior; I acknowledge my own tendency to be hurtful, I'm a huge jerk too, I swear, and I'm not proud of that.  The things I do aren't (always) intentional, and I am willing to make the necessary amends and amendments. I am just stating facts that other people probably need to consider before throwing unnecessary judgment and expectations .  

The behavior can be controlled but the emotion cannot, and that makes the behavior a little more difficult than "normal" folks can possibly imagine. It's not at all pretty, but heck, it's a reality.

It would be helpful to remember that a bipolar's volcanic eruptions thrown your way may really have nothing to do with you. But whether you like it or not, you're in the lava flow, so it would be best to know what you have to do

A big, fat sorry for your luck to people with the condition, or to those who live with bipolars in the family - but your love just has to be bigger than the disorder.
And oh, it's not a "dis-order" by the way; it's a different kind of order, something normal to those born with it.

December, Thou Art Mine Friend and Foe

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | normal | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx : 1 , agit : 1

'Tis the season to be ... jolly?
(I need to put creds for this but I've had it so long, I don't remember where I got it).

I hate Decembers.

And it's not a bah humbug, anti-Christmas spirit. I actually like the holidays and I enjoy participating in the feasting, gift-exchanging and other niceties implied. For that matter, though I think Christmas has become so commercialized and overrated, I also think Scroogery has become a sore, pathetic attempt at nonconformity.

So lemme just get that straight: I like Christmas. At least I think I do. I'm usually generally apathetic about it and have learned not too expect too much, but I more or less like Christmas.

It's just that December has often been unkind to me.

Let me explain: My chemical fluctuations have proven to be most unpredictable sometime around this time of the year. Mixed episodes, i.e., symptoms of both elevation and depression at the same time. Mixed like Christmas fruit salad with raisins and cheap cheese cubes that don't belong there. How's that for torture?The drugs, me thinks, aren't even much use at this time since having mixed episodes makes it kinda hard to gauge which drugs to continue on, increase, decrease and so on.

Furthermore, the happy Yuletide season is laden with all sorts of triggers and stressors that make a fine and dandy mess out of me.

Deadlines, traffic, crowds, decisions.
Shopping. Wrapping. Accumulated clutter.
Colds. Rashes. Cold rashes.
Required appearances. Obligatory parties.Screaming nephews. Noise pollution. The neighbors' videoke vice on full blast; Aegis, Bon Jovi, April Boy and belter songs they can't possibly reach.
Prying in-laws. Annoying questions such as "When will you have kids?" and "What do you do for a living?".

A lot of times I do end up Grinch-like and wish I could flush December down the toilet along with my vomit.

I'm not even going to say I hope this Christmas will be a great one and blah. I'm pretty sure there will be some things good about it, as well as some things not-so-good. Hubby and I have to make sure to have a holiday after the Holidays. De-stress after all the Season's stress.

----------------------------------------
I'm kinda glad the Hubby decided not to spend on gifts for this Christmas. Aside from the benefit of saving money, we also minimize on the hassles of shopping crowds and traffic jams.

We aren't Scrooging our way through the holidays; not at all. We just decided not to succumb to the modern traditions that really have nothing to do with Christ's birth. Of course I feel slightly bad (and embarassed) that I won't be giving anything to anyone, but I suppose they'll understand if I said we're trying to save cash, right? Besides, after February, no one will give a fig about it.

But anyway, I thought of ordering little chocolates to give out as gifts. Just in case .

It's otherwise a good feeling, actually. I mean , compared to how I usually feel in December. I'm not worrying as much as I used to about gifts and wrappings and ribbons. I'm glad I didn't swim through the stinking sea of people at Divisoria. I like that I don't have to stay up late working and embellishing. I like that I have a lot less things to think about this year. I like that I don't have to make my dysphoria /dysphoric mania worse than it already is.

I Made The Mistake of Drinking Non-Decaf Coffee Last Night

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | normal | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx : 0 , agit : 0

I stayed up until 4am this morning with a racing mind. Racing, racing, three hundred and eighty two circuits on a hundred kph, it takes the gold. All because I was so amused at the red cups that Starbucks brings out at this time of the year. And besides, I missed the taste of those sugary bits on the whipped cream of a toffee nut latte.

It was just a tall one. One little tall toffee nut latte.

But eep, it was a big mistake.


First of all.
An intake of caffeine after 3pm makes me sleep less, and if I'm not so fortunate, it makes me sleepless. And that's generally bad for me because it affects the mood swings and deepens the lines under my eyes the following day (someones not gettin any younger, you know). It's especially vile when I have to wake up early for something, because aside from going through the early-morning sleepy-sludge, I have to face Hubby's irritation. Hubby hates being late.

Secondly.
I just took a little yellow SAM-e the night before, which I know could tip me into manic symptoms if / when provided a trigger, even a small one. A shot of caffeine does not help in taming the racing mind, the hurried speech, the hyperactivity, the edginess, the anxiety, the irritability and the overwhelming desire to rule the world [insert evil laughter here].
Perhaps Hitler, Napoleon and Stalin had a bit to o much coffee during their manic episodes? Maybe I ... grrr. I shouldn't even think about it.

Thirdly.
I'm supposed have enforced a total caffeine ban on myself (or uh , well... a limit to caffeine intake, at least). Obviously, I forgot about that. Caffeine interacts with the Lithium - I forgot as well whether it increases or decreases the Lithium concentrations. If it was a decrease, I'm sure I can work with that; if it was an increase... uh ... I wouldn't know how to solve an overdose. Stoopid, careless mee.
[Opens new tab and Googles for "lithium" and "caffeine"]
Ah. Caffeine decreases lithium levels; withdrawing from caffeine increases it. Anyway, I better not waste our money on lithpills if I just piss it all away with the toffee nut lattes.

Fourthly.
Coffee, being a diuretic, overworks the kidneys. Lithium also happens to stress the kidneys. So.. does that mean Lithium + Caffeine = Kidney fatigue? That's why Lith should not be taken by those with kidney disease.
To worsen my paranoia, I've had a history of infection that may or may not have reached my kidneys (Darn it when doctors disagree on diagnoses; having a general surgeon for an uncle is very useful, but it could mess things up because he gives free second opinions). I was told that if the infection reached my kidneys, the damage would have been permanent. I'm more inclined to think that it did because ... uh ... well, I don't remember why. What I mean to say is that my kidneys aren't really in top condition to be entertaining difficult visitors.
Oh no... I'm actually feeling a bit of pain on either side of the small of my back ... ow ... ow... owowowowowow... But I'm not sure if that's an actual, physical, symptomatic pain or just something I imagined into being. I notice that I feel it only when I think about it.

Fifthly.
There isn't any fifthly really. I just like the look and sound of the word. Fifthly. Fifthly. I'm not even sure there is such a word anyway.


But hey, at least I enjoyed the whipped cream with those snowy sugary bits.

So though I was too tired to do anything else, I couldn't really get my thoughts to shut up, tortured by the caffeine and the thought of having drunk it.

I don't even like this year's planner.

Well-known Bipolars

It's quite inspiring that a lot of greats and geniuses were bipolar - they've made some spectacular achievements in their lifetimes, some of them even without ever overcoming the condition. It has been noted of course that the swings into elevation and depression can cause one to be brilliant, sensitive, multi-talented even genius-prone. You'll see what i mean in a while.

This, by the way is not the least bit an exhaustive list; I only included here the people I like or at least find interesting.


Poets

A lot of the poets I like were bipolar. I can see how the so-called "illness" creates a vast, deep well of emotion and imagination from which they they drew.
I can guess these guys were especially introspective but verbally expressive and poetically prolific during a prolonged episode, (snicker) - I know I'm like that.

William Blake (at left) for one, whose verse provided an inspiration for my artwork when I was a teen. Blake was a noted not just as a poet but as a painter as well .

The idol of his times, the passionate, extremely talented (and dreamy) George Gordon Lord Byron (at left). It's not hard to imagine, with his various neuroses as well as his swings from wanton "I will live as i want" behavior to world-weariness and back. The disturbed antiheroes Byron thought up were actually reflections of himself: confident, talented, attractive ... and disturbed.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Walt Whitman, and Robert Frost , some of whose verse I've loved and memorized, were all manic-depressive.

Ralph Waldo Emerson too (whose quote happens to be emblazoned on the cover of my current journal). Samuel Taylor Coleridge , T.S. Eliot, Gerard Manley Hopkins and Charles Pierre Baudelaire were as well.

I can especially imagine Edgar Allan Poe (at left), with his dark, ingenious ruminations. I don't think anyone would disagree the guy had some serious depressions.

Sara Teasdale and Emily Dickinson too - who would have known?

Sylvia Plath obviously was, and clearly had her creative bursts during her melancholia.


NovelistsSamuel Langhorn Clemens, a.k.a. Mark Twain whose popular works are relatively easy to read and pleasant.

Victor Hugo, who went for heavy, thought-provoking and almost-oppressive.

Virginia Woolf was called "crazy" - schizophrenic and bipolar, but it was those disorders, me thinks, that made her a literary genius.

F. Scott Fitzgerald is another noted novelist. His stories featured Byronic heroes too.

Others are Charles Dickens, Hans Christian Andersen, Robert Louis Stevenson, Ernest Hemingway and Leo Tolstoy.


Painters

One of the original Renaissance Men, Michelangelo (at left) was a multi-talented, prolific, brilliant, extremely inspired, iconic . . . indecent, impetuous, problematic, unpredictable, mood-swingy, disturbed bipolar.

The afflicted painter, Vincent Van Gogh had a conglomeration of disorders, including BMD. Van Gogh made his greatest works in the last year of his life, one after another in rapid succession through a wave of creative genius due to a manic episode. When he came down from the elevation and entered into a depression, he shot himself.

I know from bits of research and from personal experience that the transition from mania to depression is where the sufferer is most suicide-prone; if a bipolar isn't medicated and/or covered by caring relationships, a suicide is most likely to happen during the transition. I suppose that's what happened in Van Gogh's case.

Expressionist Edvard Munch of "The Scream" (at left) fame was another disturbed one. I first learned about him from a documentary I watched as a child; I instantly found him both fascinating and frightful. I don't know any of his other paintings, but The Scream has made a great impression on me. I'm drawn by the undulating unsettledness in his composition and the story (said to be) behind it. I recall pitying him for being manic-depressive - of course at that time I didn't know I was as well .

There's a female painter in this list - Georgia O'Keefe. I don't know much about her, but from what I remember from what I learned in Art History she had this preoccupation with vaginal forms.

The disturbed Jackson Pollock was also said to have bipolar, or something similar.

Just a thought: Why is it that most great artists were so tortured?

I have this theory that some of those in the artistic field probably would not have achieved everything they did if they weren't so disturbed. Though psychosis is not a prerequisite to genius, it can contribute. BMD is certainly debilitating, and I'm sure it was in a way for those artists. But I got to thinking that those artist and writers were so good because they were bipolar. Without the mood cycles, they probably would not have produced such dramatic work.

I know personally how bipolarity can swing one into great confidence and vision, wild creativity and inspired genius, as well as whirlwind productivity. So while the condition is inhibiting, on one end it is also inspiring.


Musicians / Composers
Both Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (at left) and Ludwig Van Beethoven (far left) were manic-depressive. Their names have stood out throughout music history due to their ingenuity.

One thing remarkable about Beethoven was his ability to convey clear, powerful emotion. I find it funny that I was entranced listening to a Beethoven some time ago and I made a joke that I think he was bipolar, based on the sound of his music. I find out later that he really was.

Another bipolar German classical musician was Robert Alexander Schumann.

Frideric Handel was German composer, of the Baroque era.

Composer-pianists Franz Liszt, Frederic Chopin and Pyotr Tchaikovsky all had swings between elevation and depression. I imagine from his music that Tchaikovsky was a bit more manic.


Scientist

Isaac Newton.


Historical-Political FiguresAbraham Lincoln (at left) suffered greatly from the illness. From what I've read, he was more inclined toward depression. History has a deified image of Lincoln, but he had some serious flaws. But he wasn't just a pensive man as our kiddie history books say - Abe was gravely melancholy, severely depressive. His dark moods were so pervasive that it affected people around him. There were times he would be so depressed and fail to show up at important meetings or even get up from bed. He never overcame his depression; it even seems more like he embraced it- and forced others to.

I mused on the thought that someone that gloomy and inconsistent would be the type of employee most modern-day bosses would lay-off first, without consideration. This guy, whose face is on Mt. Rushmore for being one of the greatest-ever U.S. Presidents, was a moody, pessimistic depressive.

Another great immortalized on Rushmore is Theodore Roosevelt. He has been described by biographers to have periods of amazing energy - he walked over twenty miles and read an entire book a day. He was known to be aggressive and ostentatious, as well as prone to social anxiety and depression.

Winston Churchill is another person I quite admire. Remarkable statesman, lawman, orator, historian and writer. A hero of World War II, Dunkirk, Britain's finest hour. I learned that he was an artist too - how cool is that?! Many attribute his excellent abilities to his disorder, which he called his "black dog".

Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin and Adolf Hitler had this condition in common. History doesn't hold very rosy images of them, but you've got to give them proper credit for their politico-military genius.

Enormous vision, egotistic ambition, megalomania, anger fits, messiah complex, disregard for others - those are all symptoms of severe elevation / mania. Napoleon, Stalin and Hitler all exhibited it from childhood. It can be very useful for authoritative leadership in small amounts, yeah? But when it isn't curbed, mania can trigger itself into destructive delusion.

Manic episodes cause one to be overconfident, even to absurd degrees; I personally have had those defiant "I will change the world" moments. It's not hard for me to imagine how someone with a good amount of intelligence, influence ad resources can actually channel all his megalomanic energy into making a mark in history. Lithium pills could have made a big difference for the whole world back then, huh?

Trivia: Did you know that Hitler was an artist as well? He made amazing watercolor paintings and charcoal drawings in his youth.

I have this theory that the so-called psychological defect that plagued Archduke Rudolph of the Hapsburgs was Bipolar Mood. He had a great, idealistic "I will save the world" phase to the point that he defied his father and despised the monarchy, and actually had plans on revamping all of Europe, but afterward he lost hope and spiraled downward into an alleged suicide.


Philosophers and Orators

Plato is said to have been manic-depressive, as derivable from what his student Aristotle said about him.

The most notable Christian speaker, Charles Haddon Spurgeon confessed of his moods in his book Dark Nights and Bright Days.

Mary Wollstonecraft, one of the authors of feminism, had a bit of tragedy.

Bipolars are very prone to tragedy. They're also real prone to repulsive behavior.


Modern-day Musicians and Celebrities

Substance addiction and abuse was the bane of many, including Marilyn Monroe, Amy Winehouse and the late great Jimi Hendrix.

90's icon Kurt Cobain (at left) didn't stick to his prescription; he instead chose medicate himself with other drugs. We all know how that ended. He also wrote a song called Lithium.

How about some people who are still alive today:

Gordon Matthew Sumner a.k.a. Sting (at left), who I've always thought is brilliant.

Adam Ant and Scott Weiland, whose unique, not-so-mainstream music helped soothe me through my youth.

Other rock icons: John Michael "Ozzy" Osborn, Axl Rose and Peter Gabriel.



Manic-depressives aren't always so dark.  Take comedian Ben Stiller for example (both his parents, actors Jerry Stiller and Ann Meara also were bipolar). Jim Carrey, Russel Brand and Stephen  Fry also are.


One modern artist that many including myself greatly admire is Tim Burton. I'm not sure how his BMD influences his output, but I think it's cute, the fact that he's bipolar.

Here's another film genius: Francis Ford Coppola.

Add to this long list Linda Hamilton, Catherine Zeta Jones, Richard Dreyfuss, Jean Claude Van Damme, Sinead O'Connor, Robert Downey Jr., Macy Gray, Carrie Fischer, Mel Gibson, Martha Stewart, Connie Francis, Larry Flint, Robin Williams, Marshall Mathers (a.k.a. Eminem), and media giant Ted Turner.  Okay, some of them aren't really good examples, but they're in there.


I'm tickled that I share bipolarity with a lot of the personalities that I happen to like or am inspired by - and I never even knew they had it until recently. Would that be a coincidence, or my tendency to be drawn to those with whom I have some sort of commonality without even knowing about it?

I share a condition with many geniuses, an "illness" so detestable but so able to stoke brilliance. Perhaps after my death, my own name could be added to this roster? I've got the bipolar part; I just have to work on the "well-known" part.

Haha; better not stoke the mania.

in the indigo haze

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | normal | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx : 3 , agit : 2


Getting up in the morning has been sheer torture lately. I feel like I've been getting worse, sinking into indigo and deep violet. I can still manage to hold my head up and carry myself quite passably in public (I think), though I often feel afloat, clouded, distant, unfocused and... what was I saying? It may be a gamble to throw me in an uncomfortable situation, and it's still definitely a must to stay away from the triggers.

Let me just say last Sunday was hell. I doubt anyone noticed though. While everyone had their happy day, I had to lock myself in a darkened room while I bawled.

I've just gotten tired of fighting it. I know I could, but I also know that that won't do much. Both Dr. C and Dr. Z say that all I could do is ... yeah, I've thought and said it over and over, I'd rather not say it again here.

The yellow pills do their job, but they give me mixed episodes. In the event of even the slightest trigger, I notice that I am instantly thrown into manic (elevated) levels accompanied agitation and anxiety. When I did my research on the yellow pills, I learned that they do have that nasty side effect (particularly on Bipolars); I asked Dr. C about it and she says they're alright as long as I take them with the Lithium. Besides, I prefer having mixed episodes instead of purely depressive ones.

The Work Dilem*a

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | normal | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx : 1 , agit : 1


It's been around a year and a half since I quit my previous occupation, and I'm still not quite sure what I should be doing job-wise.

Just to clarify, I'm not a bum since i actually am doing something productive. I've turned my hobby into a little business of sorts; and of course, on my free time, there's ministry.

But I still feel like I'm not being productive enough.
My skills are highly underused.
My intelligence is not being applied.
I'm not earning much (I might have made the impression to my friends that I'm doing hunky-dory in in my little business thing, but the truth is, I'm not quite)
I have this great sense of stagnation going on.
I basically feel like a great waste in cellulose. Not to mention destiny.

So I get to thinking about finding a job, but I have a lot of things to consider. I don't want to get a job just for the sake of being employed (that's a reason for many people, but I just think it's utterly stupid). I don't want to get into another one that isn't for me. I intend to be in one that I actually like. Now, I'm gonna seem overly prissy, but for a perfectly good reason: Due to the loverly chemical imbalance and my predisposition to anxiety and agitation, it's a bit of wisdom so as to not work myself into another severe episode. If I work job I don't like, I'd end up having to lose it anyway (and if it gets that bad, I might end up in the hospital), so I might as well find something that fits.

• It's gotta be something that I at least have an inclination for or interest in.
• It has to be something moral and legal. I'm inflexile on that one.
• I don't care much about a large income; Hubby is working and earning anyway. My concern is that I earn in proportion to the amount of work I put out, i.e., I don't want a job that makes me feel cheated or overworked but underpaid.
• There won't ever be a stress-free evironment, but I have to be in one in which I can easily cope. It would be best for me to work where stressors are minimal, or at least controllable.
• I'd prefer something with flexible hours, or at least with part-time hours.
• I need one that isn't too strict with schedules and attendance because there will be days that I just can't make it (and when I say can't, I don't just mean "too lazy", "don't want to"; I actually mean unable, impossible) . I am not a lazy person and am very good at meeting requirements, goals and deadlines; I just need a lot of flexibility.
• I can't get a job that requires me to come in early in the morning. 10am is too early. Trust me; every time I get up too early, I end up with murderous and suicidal thoughts - and i don't mean that in a poetic sense.
• I shouldn't work late hours because it throws my imbalance further off. A few late nights are fine, but it shouldnt be regular.
• I will need an assistant, or at least a back-up.
• I need a sense of reward and / or promotion. I'd prefer to stay away from dead-end bottom-feeder jobs.
• For that matter, I don't want to be the guy at the bottom of the food chain. I can't afford to be the tambakan.
• I want something that doesn't clip my freedom to choose, my sense of creativity and individuality. No dress codes, no tight rules.
• I can't work in a place where there are no people. I want people.
• But I don't mean a-lot-of-people-all-the-time-everywhere. And not people to entertain in a PR sense.
• I don't need an impressive occupation, but I'd like something I can be unashamed to talk about.
• I'd prefer (and it would be wise) to stay away from another self-serving, contemptuous, a*****ic manager who is incapable of communicating, managing or even listening.
• I don't like auditions or interviews, but I don't mind going through one if necessary.
• I need access to a whole lot of drinking water, healthful food, comfortable restrooms and something I can lie in when I feel overwhelmed or fatigued.
• I need a place that is open and considerate to bipolars. Most workplaces discriminate against, and that's understandable.

So see, I'm hopeless, hahaha :D

Well, not really. The best option i see for myself is really to work at home or have my own business. It's something I'm considering, but I'm not entirely sold on it yet. I need to give myself some more time to think and pray about it.

waking up too early = vile thawt patterns

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | normal | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx : 3 , agit : 3


aborted nighttime hibernation

+

reinforced agoraphobic experience

+

the absence of meaningful relation

__________________________________

= VILE PROCESSES OF PSYCHIC REGURGITATION

...

And so I wasted a whole morning today in a vain attempt to make it more productive. Due to the above given equation and a few other variable factors (such a disturbing reminder, the lack of sleep and a void in my tummy where breakfast was supposed to be), the bloody sunrise spiralled downward into a muck-hazy noon.

Thus was the process involving the giving-birth to a headache and a misplaced artwork (a.k.a., vandalism on Hubby's office wall).

The only way to fix the emotional mess was to bawl it out and sleep it out. Won't do much for the vandalism, though.

Aside from a skewer to the jugular, I mean.

Things turned out hunky-dory in the afternoon, though it would have been better if the morning hadn't been spoiled.

I made a mental note (and another one, concerning making an expressed one for my hubby) that whenever possible, the above combination must be avoided, or at least its results be anticipated.