bipolar stigma

today's flavor: V E R Y  S L I G H T  D Y S P H O R I A
anxiety : 0.5
agitation : 0.5

Below is a re-post of an entry from Bipolar and Successful.   It's quite enlightening for those people who are NOT bipolar; it's a must-read.  Text styling added by me.

I was thinking today about how absolutely uneducated people are about bipolar disorder. The general thinking seems to be that all bipolar people are off their rocker, evil, batshit crazy, and they are like that all the time. Honestly people, we all have our off days, but those of us with bipolar disorder are not that much different than everybody else. You don't have to be afraid.

It's no wonder that when newly diagnosed with bipolar, a person will either deny it is true or accept it as a death sentence. It is no wonder that people go on for years without treatment, or even worse, are fed antidepressants, because their primary doctor doesn't think they are bad enough to be labeled as bipolar and delays referring them to a Psychiatrist.

When in a depressed state, us "Bipolars" are usually no bother because we are curled up in bed hoping the depression will pass or searching on the internet for a new cure. When manic, we are actually pretty fun -- out spending money, traveling, coming up with new business ventures. The mixed states are not pleasant, we get a little bitchy and impulsive. I don't have to tell you this though, this is what you already know about bipolar. What you probably don't know though is that ... as long as we are following our treatment plan, we are "normal".

Many successful business people struggle with bipolar disorder, but when you picture "bipolar" you don't picture a successful person. You picture somebody who looks crazy. You don't know the successful bipolar people because they don't want to be known by their mental illness. They want to be known by who they are and by what they accomplish. The only bipolar people you THINK you know are the ones that end up on the news because they left the home today wearing nothing but their tennis shoes and decided to stomp on some guy's car windshield or committed some similar crime. Am I right?

We all have a long way to go in reducing and stamping out stigma. Don't let the media, the internet, your friends, or anybody else scare you. Bipolar is not that scary.

this is the recurring drama of my life

 today's flavor: BASELINE
anxiety : 0
agitation : 0

 
A mental filter installs itself  during depressive episodes. It really depends on how bad the depression is, but we bipolars tend to color things really bad during the gloomy days.

For example.  An ordinary nicety, such as:

 

... would morph into an innuendo ...

and therefore ...

 

I rarely ever say it our loud, but I think it.  This is probably the reason why I don't - or rather, won't - often purse deeper friendships with most people. Because the way they said hello seemed to me like a masked insult.

Then come murderous intentions.  The murders immediately turn inward ...

Thus begin my suicidal ruminations.

 

Here's another recurring scenario in my life:

Someone says to me, "Oh hey, you're here!"

I would think it was meant to say, "What are you doing here?"

And then, "You aren't wanted here".
"You should leave."

And I'd think, I shouldn't be here.

I want to die.

I should kill myself.

I'm not kidding.  I'm not even exaggerating.  I may have skipped a few steps in-between, but that's the thought process.  It may be too absurd to believe, but every bipolar would know what I'm talking about and agree.

It often if not always ends up with "I should kill myself" or its different variations.

This week, I had that sort of mental drama.  A day or two after I posted the last entry (in which I was at baseline), I started drifting into sadness.  I tried to fight it of course.  But it just so happened that someone said something to me that I didn't take so well .  It was a harmless response to a statement I said, but I interpreted it as a rejection.  I didn't have the presence of mind to react to it, so I stuffed it down until I headed home, and when I got to our bedroom I was paranoid and distraught over the imagined implications.

The following day, I was paranoid.  I was in bad shape -- but I had a lot of work to do, so I yanked myself together to function.  I needed to take breaks to cry - nay, bawl - because I was so disturbed about something that wasn't said.  The interesting bit is that I logically knew that there wasn't any malice in the aforementioned remark, but I was emotionally unable to process it any other way but as a rejection.  I was pathetic. 

My thoughts had turned spiteful, and I knew it was an overreaction. But I also knew I had to wait it out.  There was no point in confrontation over something I was certain didn't really happen.  I knew it was my own problem, and making a fuss about it would only make it worse.  The most amicable solution is really to wait it out, and then interact positively when I see the concerned persons again.  Play nice.  Choose love, joy, peace and happy things.

So yeah, I waited out the cycle. And today I saw the persons concerned again, and confirmed that it was no big deal.  Really no malice, no rejection of any sort intended.  It was all in my head.  And now I feel I'm the idiot -  again - to have been the malicious one.  Such a sap.

That's just the pattern.  It happens. It will happen again.  It sucks, but that's my life.  I just have to cope with it.

I took my yellow pill today, by the way.

indigo daze

today's flavor: D E E P  ( I S H )  D E P R E S S I O N
anxiety : 4
agitation : 3

See how crazily rapid I cycle.  Just a few days ago I was at baseline, cheery and anxiety-free.  Today I'm in the depths of dejection. Weeping has graduated to howling, and I can't blame the Benadryl since I hadn't taken it.  I don't simply wish to die anymore; between wails I found myself  assuring myself that I can slice my jugular open quickly and all will be over briefly.  I came close to building the resolve to do it.  But of course I didn't do it.  Obviously.

And I'd like to thank my husband for stowing away my craft knives.  I love you Babe, you always do whatever it takes to keep me from acting out my suicidal fantasies. 
And whoever misplaced the kitchen whetstone, thank you, that our knives can't even slice tomatoes. 
And thank you, kitchen knives - though you frustrate me when I prepare food, I appreciate your uselessness at times like these when I want to use you on my throat.

The past few days have been horrible.  Pramis.  The worst was Friday.  I cognitively knew I was nowhere near rock-bottom, but I sure felt like life had nothing good for me any further.   Until today, I can't even bother to think about betterment.  Because I really can't -- i.e., I am unable to muster enough mental energy needed to think positive.  I can't do this anymore is once again my automatic mantra.  Tomorrow, if I still feel indigo (that is, darker than blue), I shall take a happy yellow pill and hope that it helps.

Waking up this morning was unbearable, but I had to pick myself up, paste on a smile that says "I'm hunky-dory" and wear a guise of functionality. Because that's what smart bipolars should do if they want to stay human.

That's not being artificial.  It's appropriate to be presentable when having to face other people.  My love is real, and my joyful expectation for others besides myself is real; it's just that I have to wear a face that does not coincide with how I feel about ME. 




It's a tiring ordeal, constantly putting on a perception filter.  But it's necessary, so as to keep a more-or-less decent personal image, and so as to protect people's judgment-prone hearts from judging me. If I showed everyone how f***ed up I really feel inside, it will detonate the chance of gaining new friends. And I really want / need new friends.  I can't afford to blow it, considering that:

my confuddled self-esteem
my uninteresting non-rockstar lifestyle
my loud mouth and intimidating personality
my abject selfishness like everyone else's 
+ my bungee jumping catapulting moods  

----------------------------------------------------

= the least desirable option for anybody's BFF
(or plain F, for that matter)

I'm pathetic, dammit. I'm not very likable, so I have to compensate somehow.

Not that I feel the urge to change myself to kiss asses, but I do have a hunger to connect with worthwhile individuals, and it pays to be perceived as somewhat pleasant. 

New friends are sweet.  I want new friends.  Lord, I need new friends, I hunger for them, especially since a lot of the old ones have gotten moldy and sour.  Eventually I'd like for my new friends to become trusted friends, so I can have a safe place to disclose the mystery that is me, and be honest about it, and not feel judged for being so carnal, particularly during indigo seasons like the one I'm in now.

what do they think when i say i'm bipolar?

today's flavor: S L I G H T D Y S P H O R I A
anxiety : 3
agitation : 1
unwanted ingredients: a sensation similar to depression but not exactly, due to the allergy tabs and the meds for my ailing wrist


I often wonder what people think when they hear the word "bipolar". I wonder what they think of me when they find out I'm bipolar.

I can't help noticing that some have preferred to distance themselves after the discovery - such behavior is evidence that they have misconceptions - and that they're probably bigoted. Often times those particular types are neither curious nor caring enough to be educated. Ptttthh. Well, screw them.

Possibly some of them do get hungry for details, or at least become intrigued by the so-called disorder. Naturally it is easier for them "normal people" to ask Google about bipolars rather than ask actual bipolars (perhaps it's because they'd rather not risk getting snapped at or bitten into by a crazy person). This is most unfortunate, because most articles on the subject are clinical, heartless "professional" opinions that basically just flatten us out into mentally ill patients, with no mention of how fascinating, how vibrant, loving, inspiring, brilliant or amazing we can be.

Furthermore, from searching online, "normal" people will read about our mood swings, our weird behavior, and it will freaking scare them into treading on eggshells. They'll stumble upon news about how this drunken celebrity is bipolar, that misbehaving celebrity is bipolar, and that celebrity who killed him/herself was bipolar. They'll just lump us all together in the Looney box. The more they find "professional" information on BMD, the more they'd get so afraid of our mysterious psychotic aberration, because the more they will be led to think we might just go berzerk on them, slash them to ribbins or do some other thing they'd rather we didn't.

They just don't know that because of the extreme anxiety common to all bipolars, we could be more afraid of them than they are of us.

And truthfully, because of their prejudice and myopia, the "normal" people hurt the bipolars more than vice-versa. It's really not fair to think we're the hurtful ones.


I wonder how they perceive bipolars.

Do they think that all of us are wasted like Amy Winehouse, Lindsay Lohan or Mel Gibson?
... That we're all sick and gloomy like Edgar Allan Poe?
Are they afraid we'd suddenly kill people and attempt to rule the world like Hitler or Napoleon?
Are they thinking we could suddenly pull a shocking stunt like shaving off all our hair a la Britney, or lop off an ear in the style of Van Gogh?
Do they think we're all schizophrenic? Do they even know the difference?
Are they anticipating we would overdose on a mad concoction of prohibited drugs, or execute a dramatic suicide like Virginia Woolf or Kurt Cobain?
Do they think it's always our fault we're like this?

It's a real shame whenever we get written off, especially by those who are close to us. A real frakking shame.


Bipolar Mood is quite diverse.

There's more to it than simply being "a mental disorder with mood swings" - that's an incomplete, unfair, one-dimensional way to look at things. In my opinion, it's not even right to call it a "disorder" or an "illness".

Indeed, all bipolars have mood swings, and we all experience the same common symptoms of depressions and elevations but our cycles vary in intensity and duration from person to person. More about that here.

On top of that, given the fact that individual people are influenced by their backgrounds, natural inclinations and so on, each individual bipolar has different manifestations and his/her own unique triggers.


To over-explain,

• Though our psychological make-up causes us to be addiction prone, we do not all have addictions. We don't all have problems with substance abuse, prohibited drugs or promiscuous sex.
• Bipolars may seem eccentric and quirky, but we aren't necessarily crazy, and the hell we aren't stupid. We in fact tend to be very intelligent and talented, often even way more intelligent than most "normal" people. So watch who you call an idiot.
• A lot of us are poets, musicians, artists and the-other-kind-of-artists, but we aren't all. Some end up as philosophers or politicians.
• We are indeed depression-prone, but we don't always go degrees darker than the most pathetic emo song. We aren't all broody and moody. In fact, we can be very vibrant and passionate.
• We indeed have our violent phases, but "bipolar" does not mean "sociopath". Though megalomanic notions are common, not all of us will act on them.
• We all are likely to have suicidal thoughts, but we don't always end up killing ourselves.

Though many a bipolar has been known to have a tragic existence - or even a tragic end - there are a lot who have learned to cope and even live productive, worthwhile lives.

Many of us are quite amazing -- Teddy Roosevelt and Abe Lincoln, two most widely-acknowledged to be among the best U.S. Presidents ever. Winston Churchill, who was kicka&& at just about everything. The Philosopher we call Plato. The musician we call Sting. Beloved comedians Ben Stiller, Jim Carrey, Robin Williams. Film geniuses Tim Burton, Francis Ford Coppola.

And oh - I almost forgot my favorite bipolar of all. King David, the epitome of awesome.

So if you think about it, them "normals" actually love the work of us with mercurial moods - e.g., they enjoy bipolars' words, music and art; even borrow to express themselves in ways the truly Byronic are able to - without knowing those were made by those they call "mentally ill".

The bottom line is that though bipolarity can get booze-drenched messy to rock star degrees and beyond, our lives aren't always so despicable. The "entire picture" can be tremendously fantastic, and I want people to know that.


I don't know how and when, but I want to be instrumental in changing perceptions toward people with mental conditions, particularly toward bipolars. I'll start by gnawing at my own friends (no pun intended) and making them see that we don't have to be labelled as if there's something wrong with us. We're freaking amazing.

I was born this way, and God makes no mistakes, and I don't need to hide it.

two types of bipolar

today's weather: B A S E L I N E
anxiety : o
agitation : 0
symptoms of elevation curbed by anti-allergy meds and carpal-tunnel treatment

EDIT: I caught a segment on "happy food" on television, in which a bipolar restauranteur was interviewed re. his passion for making mood-enhancing dishes. Whoever the segment's researcher was, he did a sloppy job of defining bipolar, oversimplifying things, irresponsibly generalizing type 1 bipolar as a "more severe" kind of bipolar, and type 2 as a "milder form". Fuckit, that is hardly accurate and very misleading, because both types can involve extreme emotions and behaviors. Though there are mild or slight episodes,  it is a gross misnomer to say "mild" or "slight" bipolar.
Bipolar Mood is basically characterized by cycles of elevation and depression. Though Bipolars are all prone to violent mood swings, we don't all swing the same way. There are two general types and I'm going to attempt to explain them without the medical-book jargon.


Type I

In a nutshell, Type I has longer, more extremely elevated episodes alternating with shorter depressed ones.

e.g., 2 weeks depressed - then four months elevated - then one week depressed - six weeks elevated - and so on.


It would be significant to know that the longer an elevation is, the longer a person is vulnerable to the triggers. Try to picture this:

bipolar person is in a manic / elevated episode.

|

trigger comes, elevates the episode further

|

another trigger comes, further elevation

|

another trigger, further elevation

So the elevation just keeps getting heightened until triggers are eliminated or until the mood cycles downward. Get it?

Without treatment, the prolonged highs could be catapulted to megalomaniacal, violent degrees.

Interspersed between elevations, depressions still occur. Type I depressions don't quite reach the deepest, darkest depths of despair, but they are extremely vile nonetheless. That is why bipolars (of either type) try to combat depression at the onset, using drugs, alcohol, sex, self-mutilation or whatever desperate measures they see fit to distract themselves. And that is why it is necessary for them to seek professional help.

Due simply to the longer elevations (and because elevations introduce a feeling of invincibility), those with Type I tend to be more prone to bad decisions, destructive behavior and substance abuse. They are also less likely to seek or accept help; i.e., when you try to make them go to rehab, they'd likely say No, No, No. Here's why:

• In an elevation, a bipolar feels absolutely super. Overly positive, sometimes to the point of denial; overly self-confident to the point of megalomaniacal. 
• They may even insist they don't have a problem. Since they stay longer in elevations, it takes a longer time for them to come down and be remorseful of unwise decisions. 
• They won't let themselves go down (explained earlier), so sometimes the remorse won't come at all. By the time their emotions are lowered, their minds would be so addled with regulated substances and there wouldn't be enough clarity to make any good judgments. 
• Since they feel great about themselves - sometimes to the point of feeling indestructible - they won't really care about what other people say. Not their loved ones, not the doctors, not the law, not Oprah, possibly not even a police officer with a loaded gun aimed right at their head. 
• They might know they have a problem, but they would rather choose addiction over depression - anything over the tragic lows of depression. 

Type I people are thus considered purveyors of self-destruction. These are people like Lindsay Lohan, Mel Gibson, Charlie Sheen, Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse.

My doctor told me that I'm a Type I, but I think she may be wrong. I've never fallen into substance abuse or any kind of addiction. (Now if you were paying attention to what I've written so far, you would have noticed something chuckle-worthy about this last paragraph. ;) )

What I think is awesome about Type I: The fearlessness.  While it could border on sheer idiocy, the gutsy attitude stoked by long elevations could accomplish much.  It produces a risk-taking, decisive, impulsive confidence that causes bipolars to do things other people wouldn't dare, with a brazenness and immediacy that may shock onlookers.  That can lead to life-changing, history-making events - either good or bad. Of course, this sort of attitude can be counterproductive too, but just put that negativity on the shelf for now.


Type II
The second type has longer, deeper depressions and briefer elevations.

e.g., two weeks elevated - then six weeks depressed - then six days elevated - then one month depressed - one month elevated - two months depressed, and so on.


It isn't right at all to say that Type II is a milder or "slight" form of bipolar, since there is nothing slight about it. I'LL EXPLAIN.

Elevations are rarely as full-blown as those of Type I, but they can still entail extreme moods, i.e., joy, elation or anger in degrees that aren't quite "normal". These ups are mostly mixed episodes that are more snarky than cheery. The "happy emotions" are not so completely pleasant since they are tainted with irritability and anxiety. A positive mood could come off as an antagonistic or sarcastic kind of bliss - more like dark humor than wholesome comedy - but it's still bliss for the bipolar.

PICTURE THIS: In an elevation, it is possible to be very happy and very angry at the same time. Can't picture it? Think of the Joker in The Dark Knight. Furthermore, "anger" is an understatement; the emotion is more often like rage. There is nothing freaking slight about that.

Since the depressions are longer in this type, episodes have the capacity to stretch on and grow more intense with each passing day. Every trigger makes the depression go deeper and deeper and deeper, until the cycle switches or the meds to their work ... or until the bipolar decides to off himself.

Type IIs, like Type I bipolars, are also prone to bad decisions, repulsive behavior and substance abuse, but it seems they're not quite as enslaved to it. The reason for this is the shorter elevations. The longer visits to the doldrums keep them lethargic most of the time, i.e., they often don't have enough energy to go out and do something stupid.  The longer depressions also afford a bit more introspection  (often, a bit too much), and thus a bit more caution.

What I think is awesome about Type II: the well of creative emotion. In the case of artistic individuals, immersing oneself into the dark days make for some extraordinary art. Take a look at the writings of Edgar Allan Poe, or the paintings of Edvard Munch to see what I mean. A few famous people with Bipolar II are Catherine Zeta-Jones, comedian Stephen Fry and Carrie Fisher. And oh - Abraham Lincoln and Winston Churchill.

So there.


Besides the classifications of Type I and Type II, there are sub-types characterized by rapid cycling (switching more than once within one week), even ultra-rapid cycling (switching within the day). People with faster cycles are less prone to drown themselves in their episodes since the episodes don't last that long.

Bipolar Mood has general symptoms, but each individual who has it has different manifestations. More on this in the next post.

Pouty

today's weather: B A S E L I N E
anxiety : 0
agitation : 0


I want to talk about my lips. A lot of times I've been misunderstood because of my lips. I know my words can be daggers sometimes - or high-powered rifles; unintentionally or otherwise - but I'm not talking about words. I mean, without even saying anything.

I do smile, and I do laugh, and I do find a lot of things to be thankful for, and I do have joy. But some people are just too myopic to see it.

I've come to hate it to the point of murderous ire whenever others try to jolly me up. For one reason, I just cant seem to be jolly enough for anyone. For another - and I can't quite stress this sufficiently - there are times when I simply don't have the capacity to be cheery, okay. It's not that I don't want to be cheerful; there are times when I really just can't. That isn't a cop-out; it's a fact I ache for people to understand and accept.

For another reason, I got a lot of ridiculous "jollying up" while growing up - adults forcing me to smile, asking me why I frown and so on. I never seemed able to please anyone in that area; it's a very personal frustration, and I've apparently made the decision to quit trying to at a young age. It's one of those I've had it up to here things.

As a little girl I never really understood why grown-ups asked me why I frowned. As far as I knew, whenever someone asked me that, my face was simply in a relaxed position and not a freaking frown. Those demanding, pejorative a&&holes clowns just couldn't tell the difference.

Honestly, I now find more satisfaction in being a bitch about what I believe than being a likeable people-pleaser. But anyway...

I was around age twenty when it first dawned on me that my smile looked like a frown to some. I was sitting in a van one afternoon with a tactless friend and a busybody. Tactless Friend made me the object of a tasteless joke, and I shot a clever retort right back at him; I thought that was not only clean fun, but fair game. I swear I was smiling. Brother Busybody poked me unkindly on the face and stared me down, as if I'd said a racist remark or something - but I did nothing of the sort, not even close. I wondered why Brother Busybody was picking on me, when I wasn't even the one who opened fire. Just then I happened to glance at the rear view mirror and saw my face - I had expected it to be smiling back at me (or at least sneering), but what it wore was a snobby pout. Good grief. Tactless Friend was born with the kind of face that looks like it has an idiotic smile plastered all over it all the time, so people adore him even if he's a ginormous jerk. Also (as I learned via his admission sometime later), Brother Busybody had evaluated me negatively way before the said incident, simply by the way I looked.

I know that shouldn't have been my problem but his, for his being narrow-minded and judgmental. But it merited my obsession since it's been another constant pebble in my shoe since preschool: I've often gotten labelled as suplada, maldita, and other tags more hurtful because of the way I look.

I've grown accustomed to that since, and eventually expected and embraced people's tendency to misunderstand me. Yeah, sure I'm maldita. I'm vile. Got a problem with that?

... But before any embracing was possible, I unnecessarily experienced being determined to be as likeable as a sugar cookie. ;)

After the van incident, I'd started to pay more attention to how my lips appeared. I looked at other people's lips. Observation led me to the conclusion that some people have naturally happy-looking faces (like Tactless Friend does), and some have naturally saddy-looking faces. I happen to have the latter; I even have a smile that looks like a smirk. It's not due to years of frowning, as some might accuse me of - I was only twenty at that time, way too young for wrinkles. Besides, stupid people have been poking at a nonexistent frown since I was a child, so I must have been born with disapproving lips.

Let me illustrate.

These here are my lips when relaxed, i.e., no particular emotion:


Actually, you know, I even have a slight smile here.

Couple those lips with my large, intense eyes, and my day-to-day expressionless expression could look somewhat irate. Like something that says "You are an idiot, and I hate you".

Let me illustrate further:
First of all, my mouth is small (something that ungentlemanly male friends use as fodder for off-color jokes, which is really beside the point but interesting to mention). And my lips are naturally pouty.

Thanks to Angelina Jolie and a lot of Angelina-wannabes who've had their kissers surgically enhanced, pouty lips are considered sexy these days. But pouty actually makes you look mopey if you aren't flashing your pearly whites for the paparazzi.

Speaking of teeth, my teeth are really small too, so they don't show much when I smile or even speak. No dazzling toothpaste commercial grin here.

So really, for me to smile in a way that other people consider acceptable would take a bit more effort for me. I have actual deficiencies at both the emotional and the physical levels. Whenever I twist my face into a more socially laudable smile, I feel like I've just padded myself with insincerity and buffoonery.

My lips are also puffier on the left side (my left), due to an accident I had when I was nine in which I punctured my lip and required ten stitches (four on the outside, six on the inside). I have an ugly, asymmetrical smile, so when I do put a bit more effort into stretching my lips into the happy pose, it often looks like a condescending sneer.

I won't even put a picture of that here, because it's just not pretty.

And bah, I don't have dimples.

A handful of people have told me they actually like my buffoon smile. I know that's supposed to be a compliment, but I find it insulting. It's likely an attempt at flattery, an act of charity or a tool for manipulation. Even if it were sincere, I still wouldn't like it, and I still wouldn't believe anyone who told me I had a nice smile.

I choose to express joy in ways I prefer, not necessarily in ways people will like. I will let the glee show, even glow when I'm overflowing, but I don't have to fake it when there's nothing to share. I don't have to change the way I smile, and I don't have to "smile more". I actually smile a lot, and if people don't see that, I'd rather live with that rather than give them the satisfaction of thinking they have any effect on me or my lips.

It's Not A Psychological Disorder

today's weather: BASELINE
anxiety : o
agitation : o

An older lady-friend of mine who happens to be counseling a bipolar asked for my input earlier today. This friend of mine is already a well-equipped, well-trained and experienced minister, but she needed some first-hand info on what being bipolar is like, and what sort of "tools" can be used for this condition.

My collated thoughts on the subject inspire tonight's blog entry. :)

One of the first thing I tell people is that it's not a psychological disorder, though it is often classified as one. More accurately, it's a biological disorder that manifests itself like a psychological one. A more understandable term would be mood disorder - i.e., there is an abnormality that affects a person's moods. Just the moods, emotions, dispositions. It is not a malfunction of cognitive functions such as logic, learning or memory. This is an important fact. You'll see why in a while.


The main tools in navigating through bipolarity:

1. Take the prescription.
2. Identify and avoid the triggers.
3. Identify and apply coping methods.
4. Surround oneself with caring relationships.

Because it's not a Psychological Disorder ...

Because bipolar mood is not a psychological disorder, one's intellectual and mental sides are intact and very functional (unless of course the condition has been untreated for years, remained in extended episodes and swung into psychoses). A bipolar's emotions will definitely get screwy, but he can still get a better handle on the condition by engaging the part of the brain that handles logic, information, and so on. Though nothing can be done about the emotions, some action can be done to adjust one's general attitude and behavior.


1. using knowledge / information

What has personally been helpful to me is gathering relevant information about the condition. The more informed I got, the better-equipped I became.

Sources of information:

(1) A doctor of Psychology. He will have a professional, clinical opinion. This is so as to address the issue properly.

Some people think it's fashionable to flippantly tag themselves with disorders - neat freaks say they have O.C.D., teenagers with fixations call themselves psycho, emotional ones call themselves bipolar - even if they really aren't. A doctor can help to identify if there really is a chemical imbalance going on, and prescribe necessary drugs, maybe some therapy or coping skills.

(2) Medical data. Find articles, facts and resources. It's easier these days thanks to Google

(3) Other bipolars. Though they aren't professionals, they have actual experiences, not just book-based theories. A doctor provides the framework of the condition, research gives the general form, actual bipolars fill-in the colorful details.

It has personally been helpful to me to exchange thoughts with other people who have been diagnosed, as well as reading blogs by bipolars.


2. using analysis and application

All that information is useless if I can't apply it to my life. That's where more left-brain skills come in: I am to sort the information and see how it applies to my particular situation.

For example - My doctor told me to identify the triggers, so I observed what upsets me and took notes. I shared my notes with my husband, sister and close friends so they can help me avoid them.
I came across a mood chart on the internet, modified it to my needs, printed it out and started using it. With a visual prop, I was able to track my patterns and anticipate mood swings.


3. using observation

What to observe:
- What upsets me / excites me?
- What calms me down, or helps me to stay as near as possible to baseline?
- What patterns do my mood swings have? When, how long, etc.
- In which thought patterns do I usually get stuck at?
- Am I exhibiting symptoms of elevation /depression, and what do I need to do if ever?
- etc.

I take note of these and apply necessary information and coping methods. I've shared the info with people close to me too.


4. using memory

It's good to remember what I learned and what I need to do. I know my memory isn't as good as it used to be, so I put some of my notes in this blog, tagged for easy reference.

I'm a Christian and I live by the Word of God. Though I'm not as sharp as I used to be at word-for-word memorization of scripture as when I was young, I've made it a point to commit Biblical principles to my heart and mind. I've compiled and paraphrased a list of scriptures which I have found helpful to combat negative thought patterns.


5. using logic

Logic of course will only apply if you have information.

During depressions, brooding can get the best of me, so that is a good time to force myself to be logical. It doesn't take away the emotion, but it exposes the unnecessary drama and makes things a bit more tolerable (You can call it suppression. Some counselors may discourage that, but it helps me to function until I am more able to deal with the problem properly). For example, when I spiral down into self-pity, forcing myself to think it through would help me to identify that my vile conclusions could be based on some misunderstanding or a perceived though unconfirmed rejection, and I would see that it is therefore unfair to myself to drag me down over something so trivial.

Rational thinking is also very helpful in more extreme episodes when I hear noises. Because I know that they are not real, I don't entertain them, and they don't affect me, and I don't go all schizo.

It's logical thinking and pre-made decisions that keep me from killing myself - or anyone for that matter. Despite all the fantasy suicides and murders I've concocted since childhood, none of them were ever successfully carried out because my mind tells me, that is wrong, God disapproves of that, I may be eternally punished for that, I will not do that, I promised my husband I will not do that, people who depend on me need me to stay alive, and so on.


6. using discipline

Employing any and all of the above effectively needs some degree of discipline. I think that speaks for itself.


So there. I'm good. Ending with another quick, sloppy ending.

i'd rather be intense than ordinary

today's weather: S L I G H T E L E V A T I O N
anxiety : 1 | agitation : 1

It's not uncommon for me to be described by someone else as intense (or other synonymous terms). It's often meant in a not-so-endearing manner, sometimes intended as a criticism, but I quite like being thought of as intense. Depending on the situation and the behavioral expectations of observers, I suppose it could mean offensive, ostentatious or downright appalling. It could also mean passionate, strong or extraordinary. It definitely means I'm not ordinary, and that's what I like about it.

discerning the voices

today's weather: B A S E L I N E
anxiety : 0 | agitation : 0

I recently read this article written by Matthew Robert Payne, a Christian who happens to be bipolar. I like reading up on "Christian bipolarity", pretty much since I'm in that boat and I want to know other people's thoughts and professional opinions on it.

Payne is also a minister of sorts and a prophetic one at that. He discusses a bit of the challenge that comes with the territory. He says,

Bipolar has a stigma also that takes its toll.

People assume because you have something wrong with your mind that you are stupid also.

As a born again Christian who hears from God this puts me in a funny camp. Some people consider because I am Bipolar that I am NOT hearing from God and am deluded. This sort of relegates me to the side or the fringes in my Christian experience. Because I hear "voices" people assume that I NEVER hear the right "voice" and that they should not listen to anything I say that I feel God is saying to me and to them.

Of course when I consult a professional they are not too helpful as they call my voices auditory hallucinations. I am not really sure what they think, in all my years of seeing doctors, but they definitely DON'T think I am hearing from God as they don't believe in God.

Sometimes I wish I knew a Christian expert in mental illness. Some-one that knows the "voices" I hear[could also be either] the Holy Spirit and evil spirits, some one that knows the difference between them being "in me" these spirits or just communicating with me.

Besides being misunderstood and having a stigma, we are left to suffer alone ...

Taken from here.

I get what he means. It sucks that people around you think you're an idiot and treat you like you're unimportant because you have these weird mood swings.

This is one reason why I make such a darned big deal about my intelligence - my genius-level IQ, my eidetic memory and my skill with language - so much so that I seem overtly, annoyingly arrogant. Of course I'm arrogant. Well, not only do I have enough right reason to be since I truly am so wickedly smart *snicker snicker*; but it's because this conceit serves as my defense of sorts - it's my way of overcompensating for the stigma I am well too aware of (translated: it's my coping mechanism for my insecurity, hahaha). I will not allow people to treat me like an idiot, and I want to make sure they know that I am an intelligent, rational, logical, analytical human being capable of complex abstractions with a higher IQ than most, and with the rare ability to switch brain dominance at will. I want everyone to be aware that I am not stupid, and that my opinion should matter to them.

I am not illogical nor deluded either. I may have mild hallucinations from time to time when my episodes shoot to extremes, but that does not make me deluded. I am far too intelligent and analytical to know what makes sense and what doesn't.

Yes I do hear voices and noises in my head, but they do not communicate with me, and I sure as hell don't interact with them. They can make me feel afraid or upset me, but they don't affect me at other than an emotional level. It's not hard to tell that they're just all in my head, so it's quite easy to separate them from "real life".

I also happen to be a prophetic Christian, and other Christians who've worked with me and know me well can attest that most of my prophetic messages are spot-on, i.e., apparently inspired by God. I just fear what Mr. Matthew Robert Payne fears - that people will just think "it's all in my head" too, nothing but symptoms of the bipolar hallucinations.

The thing is, it's quite easy for me to distinguish the voice of the Holy Spirit. When He speaks, I have ways to determine that it's really Him and not some hallucination.

• Firstly and most importantly, He will never say anything that contradicts himself. His messages will agree with His already-written Word (the Bible).
• He puts the focus on the Lord, not on myself or any person for that matter. It will make me want to worship or at least thank Him.
  
• Even if His message is a warning or a rebuke, it leaves a positive note, like hope or an encouragement. It will promote love, righteousness, peace and joy. It will not leave me (or any other recipient) depressed or hopeless.
  
• He comes on strong. He may speak softly in whispers or impressions, but with His message comes a resonating conviction.
• The easiest way to check is when someone else receives the same message and confirms it.

So there. Not so hard, is it?

It's also not so hard to discern demonic spirits:

• The easiest way to tell is when the Holy Spirit shows me. And that's that.
• Since I worked as a minister in church, I have in the past come face-to-face with people manifesting demons at deliverance sessions (a.k.a, "exorcisms"), and I feel a bit of anger when encountering a demon. If it's just fear, it's probably just my head and not a demon.
• When a Christian tells a demon to shut up, it recognizes the power of God and obeys, especially if you speak scripture against it. If it doesn't obey, it's likely not a demon but a persistent figment of the imagination.

And I'm quite sure I don't have demons in my head. Besides, demons rarely talk directly and so exposedly to committed followers of Christ like myself, because they know we can easily use scriptures against them.

I'm fortunate that I have two doctors that are both Christians. It's just too bad though that Dr. C's office is like three cities away, and I haven't gone in a while because it's such a major effort to go there. Dr. Z, on the other hand, is more accessible; it's just that she was fairly recently widowed and I feel like a pig for wanting to ask for her help when she needs comfort herself.

Still, the uninformed people around me might prefer to be narrow-minded about all this, so it's good to have a ready defense. I've found that it's advantageous to have a rock-solid argument to cram down their puny little minds, and deliver it using impeccable English in three-or-more syllable words, with a defiant, I-am-definitely-smarter-than-you attitude that makes them feel stupid and compels them to shut up. It might not make them change their mind, but at least they will know that I am not one to be underestimated. Sure, I have insecurities; but that does not mean I have to be inferior.

(I'm pretty sure I feel this strong right now because I'm presently sitting on the baseline, and my self-image will change when I get depressed. I'll be more self-centered then but less vocal.)

It's Not About the Drugs

today's weather: B A S E L I N E / N O R M A L
anxiety : o | agitation : o


Lithium-free, nine months and counting. No major episodes and loving it.

I hope not to attract any ire for my decision to stay away from my drugs this long, but I probably will, and that's understandable. I just need to do this because Lithium has been more harmful than helpful, and I'd prefer not to experience the side effects.

I don't despise drugs; I'm not one of those flaky, overspiritual Christians who think it is wrong to trust in medicine. I do take meds, I do see doctors and do take treatment as needed - I just prefer to use them without being dependent.

Besides, what's the point of medicine that suppresses one symptom but produces others? Like if my Lithium supposedly muffles the mood swings but heightens the risk for neurotoxicity and poses dangers during pregnancy (not that I intend to be pregnant soon, but just in case it happens, right?), I think I'd like to stay away for a while. For a while.

I do plan to go back on Lithium, particularly when I work again and expose myself to various triggers. But for now that I'm mostly just chilling, I'd rather save money (thirty bucks' worth of drugs a day can really burn holes in your piggy bank, so no thank you, not right now) and save my precious brain cells.

I was talking with a friend some time ago about how good it's been without Lithium so far. Of course I do benefit from taking meds, but I find that surronding myself with loving, supportive relationships is far more helpful and beneficial. Meds are great and all, but they are not the only solution, and I don't even think they are the best.

I quite think it's an unhealthy attitude toward drugs to treat them as a cure-all - Feeling sad? Drink your meds. Feeling energetic? Take your meds. You worried about something? Take your meds. PMS? Take your meds. It's not like problems will go away if you "take your meds".

Poking around and doing research about Bipolar Mood, I learned that one of the top treatments is loving relationships. If a person for example does take his drugs but is constantly misunderstood and rejected by the people around him, a pervading sense of insecurity becomes a permanent stressor in the background of his daily life, which turns even the most minor triggers into major catastrophes. Even with the meds, there will be a lot of drama. I noticed that bipolars or depressives who tend to be heavily dependent on meds are those who don't feel very loved by their families. Often spouses or parents of bipolars could be insensitive, thus unknowingly and carelessly worsening the condition. If all they do is isolate the "crazy person", complain about his mood swings, refuse to understand him and adopt a "take your meds" mentality, it creates a whole toxic, suicidal, murderous atmosphere for the bipolar, which he ill surely act out on.

I'm not saying that all those who take meds are rejected by their families. I'm talking about those who depend heavily on drugs, those who feel like medication is their only hope. There are those of course who have good relationships but have a high-stress job or lifestyle, and need the drugs to curb the swings - but they aren't as hopeless and resigned as those who have a sense of security in their closest relationships.

The bottom line is that family and friends play an important role. If a bipolar feels safe, loved and wanted, it makes a lot of difference.

I'm fortunate that I have caring, supportive family and friends. I've cut off the toxic relationships, and stayed away from that environment which has a lot of overhanging and underlying rejection and intolerance. That did more good than the Lithium ever has. As long as I feel secure, I can handle the triggers.

I Party

severe elev. | high elev. | moderate elev. | slight elev. | BASELINE | slight dep. | moderate dep. | deep dep. | severe dep. || anx: 0 | agit: 2

Bipolar people sometimes party and other times they may just be plain depressed. It is quite daunting for us bipolar people when we arrive back home or end up in a friends house after a night of hardcore partying. Not only have we spent incredible amounts of money but we have been in places and done things that we may regret later on. The manic frenzy is an incredible one and we all enjoy it at these times. However medication is designed to control such desires.

Bipolar people like to party hard and it is difficult to become just normal like average Joe. Indeed we can't party every night but when we do, I believe it is important that we allow some more time to recover. After a night out we wont necessarily be depressed but we must be prepared.

Quoted from this blog. Text-styling mine.

Bipolars are party animals. When they're high, they're high and like to springboard into greater elevations. But when the after-party low hits, it's a down-low low.

I keep thinking of the Nikki character played by Sienna Miller in the movie Alfie (2004, starring Jude law .. by the way, it's Jude Law's birthday today, December 29).

Photos from this blog.Photos from Flickr.

I love her. Nutty Nikki. "Damaged," as Alfie said. I really think she's bipolar; it wasn't quite stated but I can't ignore the context clues: Mood swings. Daring, shocking and embarrassing behavior. Flamboyant fashion. Addiction. Un-subtle flirting and crazy sexual activity. Creative manic business. A dependent neediness. Medication she sometimes thinks she doesn't need. And the wild partying. That's familiar territory for me.

Contrary to what a lot of people perceive about me, i like parties. Maybe even love them. I crave parties. It's just that I've been ditching most of the "church people parties" because they often suck, i.e., they aren't the kind of parties I want to be at. So church people think I'm not the party type. The thing is, I'm not the lame-o party type. I'd really rather be home with a good book than waste my time with parlor games, "blessing" conversations, and potluck - er, potbless.

Just to get things straight: I don't seek to get wasted okay? I don't even intend to do anything crazy or questionable. But I do always wish there was some sort of rush and not just tame fun. I still believe there could be clean - emphasis on the CLEAN - fun that would be exhilarating for a bipolar bear like myself.

As a pre-medicated and pre-Christianized young adult, I've had my share of waking up hungover and remorseful of having done something repulsive or STOOPId the night before. I hated the guilt and the embarrassment, but I loved the un-safe craziness. I was proud of it. I constantly had an appetite for it.

And here I am now, medicated and indoctrinated, and though I don't even feel old, I've had to make do with the "safe" party scene. Have whatever clean fun I can have. Then get all depressed afterward for not having the fun that I want.

The blogger went on to say,

It is important that we enjoy life as a whole rather than just the manic moments. As long as we can feel emotions we will be alright ... Be hopeful, you will be okay.

This, by the way, was written by someone who does not trust the drugs and does not take any.

I try to suck all I can from a high while I'm in it, knowing that a low would be just around the corner. And for all its wretched misery, I find something I appreciate about the depressions. Like a bipolar friend of mine once said, it's better to feel extremes from time to time than feeling nothing.

And now to prepare for another party tonight ...

Tomorrow night I'll be getting together with some non-church friends. Haven't seen them in a decade. I'm curious about how the night will turn out. Don't worry; I'm very, positively, certainly sure that I won't be doing any alcohol or anything questionable. I just hope to have some rush kind of fun.

"The Hours"

severe elev. | high elev. | moderate elev. | slight elev. | BASELINE | slight dep. | moderate dep. | deep dep. | severe dep. || anx: 0 | agit: 0

I re-watched the movie, The Hours, a story about the novelist, Virginia Woolf and her work Mrs. Dalloway. Although i've seen this before, it still resonated with a certain truth. Woolf was a bipolar, and I really very much relate with how her torment was described as encapsulated in the dialogues.

Luckily i was able to find a transcript of the conversations (no doubt typed out by a dedicated movie fan).

Below is the exchange between Virginia and her husband, Leonard. It kinda sounds like a recurring converstaion between me and the Hubby.

Perhaps you could tell me exactly what you think you are doing?
What I was doing?
I went to look for you and you weren't there.
You were working in the garden,
I didn't wish to disturb you.
You disturb me when you disappear!
I didn't disappear. I went for a walk. 
- A walk? Is that all? Just a walk...
Virginia, we must go home now,
Nelly is cooking dinner...
She's already had a difficult day.
It's just our obligation to eat Nelly's dinner.

There's no such obligation. No such obligation exists!
Virginia, you have an obligation
to your sanity.

I've endured this custody!Endured this imprisonment. 

- Oh, Virginia!

I am attended by doctors.
Everywhere I'm attended by doctors
who inform me of my own interests!

They know your interests. 
- They do not! They do not speak for
my interests. 
Virginia, I can...
I can see that it must be hard  for a woman of your...

Of what? 
Of my what exactly? 

- Of your talent to see that she must not be
the best judge of her own condition!

Who then is a better judge?

You have a history...
You have a history of confinement.
We brought you to Richmond because you may have fits,
moods, blackouts, hearing voices...
We brought you here to save you from the
inevitable damage you intended upon yourself!
You tried to kill yourself twice! 
I live daily with that threat.
We set up...
we set up  the printing press not just for...
itself...not just purely for itself,
but so that you might have a ready
source of absorption and a remedy! 

I need to work.
It was done for you!
It was done for your betterment! It was done out of love!
If I didn't know you better  I would call this ingratitude!

Am I ungrateful? You call me ungrateful! 
My life has been
stolen from me.
I am living in a town I have  no wish to live in.
I am living...
a life I have no wish to live.
How did this happen? It is time for us to move
back to London. I miss London. I miss London life.

This is not you speaking, Virginia.
This is an aspect of your illness...

It's me, it is my voice!

Not you... 

It's mine, mine only...

It's a voice you hear. 

It is not! It is mine.
I am dying in this town.

If you were thinking clearly, Virginia.
You'd recall it was London that brought you low.

If I were thinking clearly?
If I were thinking clearly... 

- We brought you to Richmond to give you peace.

If I were thinking clearly, Leonard,
I would tell you that I wrestle alone
...in the dark, in the deep dark and that only
I can know... 
only I can understand my own condition.
You live with the threat, you tell me. 
You live with the threat of my extinction.
Leonard, I live with it too.
This is my right. It is the right of
every human being.
I choose not the suffocating anesthetic of these
suburbs...
but the violent jîlt of the capital,
that is my choice!
The meanest patient, just even the very lowest,
is allowed some say
in the matter of her own prescription,
thereby she defines her humanity. 
I wish, for your sake, Leonard,
that I were happy in this quietness
but if it is choice between Richmond and death...
I choose death.

Very well, London then. We go back to London.

-------------------------------

A conversation between Virginia's characters, Clarissa and the unstable Richard. Clarissa finds Richard posed by an open window.

What the hell is going on here?! Richard!
What are you doing here? You're early!
What is going on... what are you doing? 
-I had this wonderful idea...
I needed some light! I needed to let in some light!

Richard, what are you doing?

I had this fantastic notion.
I combined my madness and my magic
to solve the riddle...
until finding the coincidences.

Richard...
Don't come near me!
It seemed to me I needed to let in some light.
What do you think?
I cleared away all the windows.

Alright, Richard, do me one simple favor...
Come, come sit!

I don't think I can make it to the party tonight.

You don't have to go to the party...
you don't have to do anything you don't wanna do.
You can do as you like!

But 
I still have to face
the hours,
don't I?
I mean the hours after the party...
and the hours after them.

You do have good days still,you know you do!

Not really.It's kind of you to say so, but...
it's not really true.

Are they here?

Who?

The voices.

Oh, the voices are always here.

And it's the voices  you're hearing now, isn't it?

No, no, no, no... 
Mrs. Dalloway, it's you. I've stayed alive for you...
but now you have to let me go.

----------------------------------

Virginia's suicide note.

Dearest,
I feel certain, that I'm going mad again.
I think we can't go through another of these
terrible times
and I shan't recover this time.
I begin to hear voices and can't concentrate.
So I'm doing what seems the best thing to do.
You have given me the greatest possible happiness.
You have been in every way all that anyone could be.
I know that I'm spoiling your life and 
without me you could work,
and you will.
I know. You see I can't even write this properly.
What I want to say is that
I owe all the happiness of my life to you.
You have been entirely patient with me
and incredibly good.
Everything is gone for me,
but the certainty of your goodness.
I can't go on spoiling your life
any longer.
I don't think two people could have been
happier than we have been.
Virignia.

Dear Leonard...
to look life in the face, always...
to look life in the face... and to know it...
for what it is...at last to know it...
to love it... for what it is... and then...
to put it away.
Leonard...
always the years between us...
always the years...
always the love...
always the hours...