Telling My Friends about Bipolar

I'm going through a phase of facing my illness. I voluntarily made an hour-long appointment with my psychiatrist this week. There was a time 6-7 years ago when I highly resented going to the psychiatrist. He just said, "See, people can change," when I pointed out my different attitude. There are different schools of thought about "telling," and I've read about them in Bipolar Magazine. My approach has always been to tell a couple of people I trust at work about my illness. Even though my bipolar is well-controlled with medication today, that doesn't tell me what to expect in the future. I believe in constructing a support network where I can go for help or insights into my behavior. My husband is the keystone of that network. He just asked me this morning if I meant to get up at 5 am. I did; I have a lot of work to do today, and I wanted to have plenty of time for prayer, reading, and writing. My doc said that sleep patterns are the main thing for me to watch. That's the sort of concrete information that really helps. I promised to call doc if I go two straight nights waking up at 3 or 4 am.

To me, the definition of hell on earth is waking up at 3am and being unable to go back to sleep. There were months-long stretches while I was still untreated when I did that every night, over and over again. I'll never forget the first clonazepam I took because I felt such blissful relaxation after weeks of tension and exhaustion in a vicious cycle. I took a two hour nap that day and felt a lot better. Go figure.

I began seeing Dr. G in April of 2004, as part of a 7-point plan agreed upon by me, hubby and another doctor. I was in bad shape physically and emotionally. Needless to say, it was a low point. It took me until December of 2005 before I was brave enough to ask Dr. G what my diagnosis was. He said that he thought I had a "mild mood disorder of the bipolar variety." I remember expressing my relief because I was always afraid that I might be depressed. I said, "I'm glad it's not depression because depressed people kill themselves." He said, "People with bipolar disorder kill themselves, too." Oh. Anyway, I was relieved to know what is wrong with me, and the diagnosis really explained a lot of things I had never told anyone. A few days ago I asked him again for my diagnosis. He was reluctant to put me into a standard DSM-IV category, and I'm glad for that. He said that it appears to be Bipolar II with mixed elements of depression. He also said he's fairly certain I've never had a full-blown manic episode. He's probably right. Any time I ever got really scary in my own thoughts, I've retreated to home and to prayer. The other thing that we discussed is that the medication that works now may not always work. That's I have to go see him. I'm blessed to have strong recovery that has lasted so long. I have to give credit to my excellent doctor and also to medication compliance. What's so weird about my bipolar is I'm pretty sure I'm depressed now, but I have a lot of energy. The notion of "mixed elements" or "mixed state," which I've never grasped before, suddenly makes sense to me.

Yesterday I found a good site and bookmarked it so I can go back and learn more: Mood Swings But Not Manic  There's lots of good science there.

Anyway, yesterday I told another work friend about my bipolar. We had a great talk about it. She shared some things with me, too. I have someone else who loves me and really knows me a little bit. Most of the time I have to be the professional administrator at work. My overall boss, the person over our whole organization, knows. She told me not to tell anyone else because they may look at me differently. My experience has been that people say, "I would never have known that if you hadn't told me." Then, they tend to forget about it. My family does the same thing. The important concept is that I am living with bipolar and have to deal with it daily. Sometimes it's a grind, but it is worth taking care so that I am able to live a full and happy life, feel my feelings, and be present to my family and friends. If you had asked me 5 years ago, I wouldn't have imagined myself capable of handling the job I'm doing now. I thought I'd never be fit to work again. So, I rejoice in my recovery and weep at the same time with the praise I must offer God for never leaving me.

"We fall down, but we get up. For a saint is just a sinner who fell down and got up." --Donnie McClurkin

Blessings.

The Most Important Gift

When I was actively involved in Al-Anon recovery, there were a lot of group members who said that recovery in Al-Anon was the most precious gift. I read literature, journaled, worked the steps with a sponsor and went to meetings; however, I always put my family, especially my children, ahead of going to meetings. One school year, I gave up my home group because the time conflicted with going to school and teaching one child an advanced math class. Full disclosure: I wasn't living with active alcoholism at the time. Also, an alcoholic friend once told the that the AA's need for recovery is different. He said, "We have a tendency to drink and die."

I've heard others speak of "the priceless gift of serenity," and I know from deep within myself how priceless that gift is. I won't give my serenity away to anyone. The second step says, "Came to believe that a Power greater that ourselves could restore us to sanity." One definition of insanity is repeating the same behavior and expecting different results. One day in a meeting, I actually said out loud (!) that I have a diagnosis of bipolar. Just to say that out loud made me shake. I had been struggling with the word "sanity" in that step, and I really needed to say that I am mentally ill. Sanity in real life is different than sanity in Al-Anon, and I needed to say that in the safe environment of the meeting. I have a potentially life-threatening mental illness.

More than five years after receiving the bipolar diagnosis, I have come to an extremely important realization: my recovery from bipolar disorder is the Most Important Gift in my life. It is my priceless gift. Without the overall mental health I've worked so hard to gain, I don't have the dear people in my life. My relationships can't be healthy. I can't be happy and fulfilled at work. When I am ill, the pain is almost unbearable, and I'm not present. I don't want to go back to being ill. I am responsible for my own recovery. I am responsible for seeking help when I need it, and the experience is humbling. I am grateful beyond measure for the gift of recovery.

I end with one of the prayers I say every morning:

Freedom Prayer:
Take, Lord, receive all of my freedom, my memory, my intelligence, and my will, all that I have and possess. You, Lord, have given those things to me. I now give them back to you, Lord. All belongs to you. Dispose of these gifts according to your Will. All that I ask is your Love and your Grace, for they are enough for me.
--St. Ignatius of Loyola


Blessings!

It's Time to Deal with "The Music Thing"

Yesterday I wrote about forgiving a particular person, LDD, who killed my sister-in-law. After working out, I sat with my guitar and tried to write a song, a tune, or something to accomplish the forgiveness I sought. My Al-Anon sponsor told me that when someone has hurt me, I have to consider my part, too. There are several instances in my life where it is nigh unto impossible for me to see that I had a part. In this case, the car wreck happened in another state, I wasn't there, and sure had nothing to do with the cause of it. My fault is that I haven't focused on forgiving this person, and so he's being held up spiritually by my lack of forgiveness. Anyway, I ended up writing the beginning of a little song.

It's really simple and the words are:

Inspire me
Forgive me
Bless me so that I can
Forgive me

For I know what I've done
And what I've left undone so
Please forgive me


Inspire him
Forgive him
Bless me so that I can
Forgive him

For I know what he's done
And for what he's done
Please forgive him

The pronouns can be changed easily according to the forgiveness need.

I'm still working on it, of course, but the words and music came to me really clearly.  Writing a song is an out of control experience for me. I don't ever feel like I'm doing anything. The song is given to me. It is a spiritual gift that I never asked for, and most of the time I don't want it. Songwriting and music, in my experience, are associated with staying up late, acting "weird," thinking in non-linear ways, and generally being illogical. I've lost almost 15 pounds in the last 5 weeks or so, and so I have all of this extra energy. That's a good thing, but I don't want to go into a hypomanic cycle or any other state that would compromise my mental health. My bipolar recovery has been excellent for over 5 years, and it's really the most important thing in my life. It's the keystone of my existence.

It's time to address the musical talent I possess and see if I'm finally mature enough to integrate it into the rest of my life. I am afraid that it will take away the stability I've worked so hard to gain, but I have to work it out. My heart is telling me this so clearly now.

Blessings!

Beginning ideas

I was out walking and running the other day, and I started thinking it might be a cool idea to start a blog. But I couldn't think of what to base it on, so I decided to just lay out all of the labels talk about whichever one is on my mind on any given day. I rarely tell anyone that I'm bipolar, and when I do, they usually don't believe me. I mean, come on, I've been married for years and years, married only once. I have three great kids, a full-time job, and a wonderful, blessed life. Things haven't always been easy, but I am respectful of my illness, to the point that my doctor told me I'm healthy. See, I got tired of thinking of myself as ill, and I'm really not ill when I take my medication. Maybe one day, when I'm in the mood, I'll talk about the experience of being actively bipolar and the actual diagnosis process.

I don't have time today, because I'm about to live some life on a day hike with a couple of the kids. I'll post pictures tomorrow if I can figure out how to do it.

Blessings!