Facing Grief Mania and Depression

Grief, we’ve all experienced it on some level in our lives. Whether it is the loss of a parent, spouse, child, friend or a pet, we’ve been there.  Professionals will tell you there are five stages of grief that you will go through, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance and that they play out differently for everyone.  While this is all well known, what many of us with mental illness, like Bipolar Disorder, do not realize, is that grief can trigger a depressive/manic episode.  (It is important to mention that these episodes can occur in those who do not have a mental illness as well, so it is important for everyone t o know what to look for and get help.)

I had never heard of “grief mania”, then again, I have lived day to day with this illness for the last 21 years and am now (as I head into my 50s) realizing that maybe I should be taking this illness more seriously.  I found out about this trigger the hard way, a 5 month major manic episode that landed me in the hospital with suicidal ideations.

Back track five months prior when  I received an early morning phone call that my cousin Scott, had passed away the night before,  he had committed suicide.  We were as close as two people could be and his death devastated me.   What hit me the hardest was depression, I went through a couple weeks of thinking that maybe he had the right idea, maybe it was the way to make it all stop and go away and I wondered if I should join him and finally put my own demons to rest.  I obviously didn’t follow through with my thoughts; instead I got a tattoo in his memory.   On my chest, over my heart, is the word “FREE” with a dove.  To me it said it all, he was finally free.  The thing is, I wasn’t and was about to head down a very dark path. 

The mania started out innocently enough, then again it always does,  I met up with a good friend I hadn’t seen in awhile.  We always had trouble finding time we were both available, but suddenly it wasn’t a problem there seemed to be all the time in the world for lunch, movies, concerts and late night talks.  I would spend time with some friends once a week to crochet; I was enjoying going out again.  I was taking my medications and seeing my psychologist, all seemed fine.  My first clue should have been when almost three months after Scott’s death I decided I no longer needed therapy, I was finally enjoying life and had no need for a psychologist. 

Everything had seemed perfect, until it stopped and when it did there was nowhere to go.  I made an appointment to see my psychiatrist and an hour later I was on the psych ward.  That is when I found out about grief mania, the death of someone so close to me had triggered a major manic episode.  It would take nearly 2 months in the hospital before I felt like myself again.  Once I was back home,  I would visit the cemetery often to sit and talk, I was still battling my demons and I knew he was the only one who truly understood.

As life was settling into a “normal” routine, I was once again thrown a curve ball.  My step-dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer and placed in hospice.  My mom, feeling she would not be to make the decisions gave me power of attorney and put his life in my hands.  As the dutiful daughter I did as I was told, but in my heart I wanted nothing to do with it or him for how he had treated me when I was younger.   The week before Christmas 2015 he passed away and I once again fell into the spiral.  His death brought back memories I didn’t want and I hated the fact that I had had to manage his needs in his final days.   My psychiatrist knew I was struggling and kept a very close eye on me.  I begged him a couple times to admit me, I was starting to realize something was wrong, but he wouldn’t.  I was going to face it this time, not hide behind the walls of the psych ward. 

As I pondered all that had occurred in the past 18 months, I found myself wondering what life was about and if maybe I needed to find my own place in this world, something I never had.  So, to everyone’s surprise I made the huge step of moving half way around the world.  I was still a bit manic at the time, but I was taking a stand for myself, as selfish as it sounds.   The move did not set well with my daughters and in my heart  I had lost three children, so as the wave of mania was dissipating, I went into a serious depression and mixed episode, many times wondering if life was worth all the trouble.  (A year later only two of them still talk to me)

As I was beginning to finally settle into a new life I was hit with yet another blow.  While planning a trip back to the US last month, I had hoped to see my daughters, but in the end saw only one.  I was heartbroken and cried all the way to the airport; I had lost my children again.  Then received the news a dear friend had passed away, I was starting to feel like heartbreak was all I would ever know. 

 So here  I am grieving yet again, acceptance isn’t coming as easy this time and my depression and mania are as strong as ever, but I know I need to face them – but truth be told – I’m scared.   Each day is a new battle, I have to tell myself I am strong enough and in the end things will be OK.  Most days I do alright, but it is in the middle of the night, when I can’t sleep that the sadness, anxiety and demons return to challenge me and I have to fight with all I have not to give into them. 

Reading how loss and grief can affect those of us with mental illness I know that I am not alone.  I have also realized that when it comes to mental illness you have to keep talking and learning, because you never know what may trigger the next episode.  It is a journey that cannot be walked alone, I tried to convince myself I didn’t need help, I could face the grief and sadness on my own, I was wrong.   Help is there, use it. 

Thank you for reading this post, while a bit long I think it shows the path life can take and how it knocks us down and what we need to do to fight out way back. 

Don't let Mental Illness leave you grounded

Recently we took a trip back to the United States from Australia.  For those who have never done that sort of flight let’s just say it’s not for the faint of heart.  A rough total of 23 hours in the air and another 10+ hours in layovers take a lot out of you, not only physically but for those who live with mental illness, mentally as well. 

Preparation is the key to it all, making sure medications are packed and are taken as close to normal time as possible.  That is probably the easiest part, the rest can leave you feeling off, confused, tired, depressed, and manic and in some cases psychotic.  I know it does not seem like it’s worth it, but travelling is a chance to see the world and the sacrifices that are made are worth it if taken care of in the right way.  We were not made to stay in one place, there is so much to explore and experience that our mental health should not keep us from that.  However, having these illnesses can add an element of difficulty, especially when they involve long flights and most importantly a lack of preparation.

Sadly I fell into the latter category; I was ill prepared for the trip, mentally.  I had lists for what needed to be packed, papers printed for hotels, car rental, site seeing, flights and visas.  I had an itinerary planned and ready to go and waited impatiently for the day to come.  We even arrived at the airport 90 minutes before it opened.  

What I didn’t plan for, however, was my mental health. I knew in the back of my mind that it could become an issue, lack of sleep and a disruption of a regular routine has been known to cause me problems in the past.  I told myself that was in the past, I was smarter now and could handle this without a problem.  I knew jet lag would be an issue, but with a little sleep and some down time there would be no problems, turns out that I was only half right. 

Flying to U.S. was OK, jet lag was minimal – though I was tired – I felt good and we had a fantastic time visiting New York City.  I had never been to Central Park or Time Square so I felt like a little kid exploring for the first time.   We visited with friends, toured the battlefields of Gettysburg and did a little shopping.    All this made the fact that I was tired seem irrelevant, there was so much to see and do I was on top of the world.

When the time came to return back Australia, I hoped it be just as easy.  I would love to be able to say it happened that way, but after four days of being back home, I have not slept for more than 5 or 6 hours a night, I’m irritable, moody, depressed, hypo-manic and fear psychosis isn’t far behind.   The emotions of visiting my home left me with feelings of nostalgia and the emotions of coming to terms with who I am now.  I looked forward to returning to work when we returned, but since we live in a resort town winter is very slow and it is possible I will be out of work for the next 3 months.  Put all these things together and I am struggling to find my footing once again.  All the progress I made over the last year seems to have dissipated over the Pacific Ocean.  I am struggling to focus and return to a schedule and routine that I am familiar with and helps me be the person I want to be, the writer, photographer and person who loves life and battles the demons with strength and determination. 

I do not say these things to deter anyone from travelling, it is actually the opposite.  I want people to know that, yes travel can be a challenge if not handled correctly.  There is planning that needs to be done not only with what you will pack and things you will do, but also how you will handle jet lag or a disruption in your daily routine.  These two topics alone should be at the top of the list when preparing for a trip.  It is very easy for a slight relapse to make a huge difference not only in your holiday, but in the return home as well. 

Hiding mental illness behind the mask

At some point in everyone’s life, there is the dream of being an actor. We watch movies and picture ourselves starring alongside our favorite performers, walking the red carpet and receiving an award.  It’s a glamorous life, one envied by many.   I never thought that I would become an actress, but along with my diagnosis of mental illness came a new identity, a persona was created and the acting skills I didn’t know I had emerged in order to ward off any indications that something was the slightest bit off.

The charade goes like this.   You are invited to a party and have agreed to go.  The day of the event arrives and suddenly anxiety starts building, this alone will begin an internal breakdown of who you really are.  Dialogues begin of what people will say when they see you.  Will they remember the time you made a minor mistake at work three years ago?   As the scenarios begin to take form, self-esteem takes a hit as you look for something to wear , other than the “comfy clothes,” you wear at home.   By the time you get to the front door you have yourself convinced that everyone will know you are sick, they will judge you and see what a mental illness is really like.   And just like that, you smile in the mirror, as a small voice in your mind yells, “ACTION.”  It is time for your performance.

This can be a similar dialogue on any day; the problem is it occurs too often.  Over time it becomes normal and in the desire to hide the illness, we hide ourselves instead, often without realizing it.  The person we create becomes who we are and our true self becomes a person in the mirror that we never really see, because it is a reminder that we are not who we want to be.   So, in order to protect our already fragile minds, we go within, create a life we think is perfect and “press play.” 

I would give anything to be myself most days, but I am not sure I know how anymore; not completely anyway.   I long to be the person I was before I became “sick,” the athlete, the super-mom,  the friend everyone turned to.   Now, instead, there  is always that part of me that is on guard, afraid that if I reveal too much of who I am then my ‘secret’ will be out and that is the fear, the truth and what people will say.   So, the act continues, no awards are given, no speeches are made and there is no red carpet to walk down.   This is a private performance created in the mind amid the maze of medications, doctors, diagnosis, illness and stigma. 

Making the decision about psychiatric medications and treatments

There are times I wish there was one drug to work for everyone.  I went through years trying to find a combination that worked for me, to be stable (if that is possible), keep the psychosis and mania to a minimum and depression at bay.  Part of the issue I faced in the early years of my diagnosis was being in the military, I moved around a lot.  So, just when I found find a good doctor and felt comfortable with them, it would once again be time to move.  I got to the point where I didn't care much anymore, especially when it came to one of the last doctors I had.  He rarely listened to what I had to say, I was on two medications and I was having awful side effects, I begged him to change them.  He would sit behind his desk and fill out his insurance forms for the visit.  After a few visits and no help I did the only thing that sounded logical to me, I weaned myself off all medications.  I'd had enough.  

Fast forward to a year and I crashed, hard!  It was then I realized that I was not going to be able to do this alone, I had to be on medication in order at least keep some level to stability.  The journey would become harder than I thought, but after three psychiatrists and psychologists, I found not only a medical team I could trust, but also a medication combination that was helpful.  It was not an easy road however; it took several attempts to find out that my system rejected just about every new drug that had come on the market.  In addition, the Anti-Depressants I was taking were actually causing some of my mania.  With that off the list it came down to relying solely on mood-stabilizers, anti-psychotics and anxiety medication, but as we slowly ticked off the list of medications I could not take I became more discouraged.  The main hurdle we faced, in my eyes, was the extent of my diagnosis, Schizo-affective was simply the tip of the iceberg, it also included General Anxiety disorder, PTSD, and Dissociative Disorder.   Thankfully I had a doctor that would not give up.    

In the end we came up with a combination of Lamictal, Neurontin and Klonopin.  The first two keep me stable, for the most part (not drug is going to make this go away completely) and the later helps me not only sleep (my brain refuses to shut down, especially at night), but I can take it during the day if I am having an anxiety attack.  It is important to add that medication alone was not the answer, at least for me, and while we discussed medications he decided to approach the subject of ECT, (Electro-Convulsion therapy).  The idea more than scared me, but I was desperate and I trusted my doctor.  I checked into the hospital, was admitted to the psych ward and for the next 10 days had five treatments, and then I had three treatments as an outpatient.  The experience as not what I expected, my only side effect was bad dry mouth afterwards, and a headache.  

Now being the challenging patient that I am, and while the ECT worked to ease my depression, it brought on mania.  We didn't see it at first, it was subtle, but there was something going on.  12 months later I was back and had a second round after I hit bottom again after losing my cousin to suicide, his death destroyed me and sent me into a severe mixed episode.   Since the last sequence of treatments had help with the depression, this time my doctor knew we had to take a different approach.  It is most common to administer the treatment to one side of the brain; however, for me he decided he had to administer to both sides in order to balance out the depression and mania.  It was like my mind was fighting itself for control and he was making every effort to call a truce.  There was some success with the treatments and balance was restored, but there was a part of me that had hoped that it would make it all go away, I was growing more and more tired of it all. 

I began tracking my symptoms a few years ago; I watch how my mania, depression, anxiety, psychosis and sleep fluctuate from day to day. With the graph I can see what may have been going on that day to cause more a depressive state and what may have caused anxiety.  It’s not fool proof, but it can give a general overview of what may trigger some of the mood swings and then I can make any changes I may need to. 

In the end, yes the ECT did help and the medications continue to keep things in check - for the most part.  Over time I realized that we must live with these illnesses as they are, work with a good medical team, and have a strong support system.  Without all these pieces in place we run the risk of continuing to hide behind our mask and tell the world we are “OK,” when what we really need is help.  

The Cold Hard Ugly Truth about Mental Illness and Sensitivity

I initially had the idea of focusing on BipolarDisorder and Schizophrenia as it pertains to sensitivity, but realized a single focus leaves out a lsrger group of people who also face these challenges on a daily basis.   

Five years ago, after several failed attempts at holding a job for more than a few weeks, countless severe depressive episodes and medication adjustments it was decided that I should consider apply for disability.  It was a hard thing to accept, while I welcomed the idea the realization that I was not able to hold a job was difficult to face and yet relief at the same time.  When I received my letter that I had been approved I became depressed, suddenly I realized that everyone (doctors, the state, and the disability system) saw me as not good enough, crazy and unable to function in society.  The one thing that was to make life a little easier and take some of the stress and anxiety away from me actually caused it.  In my mind I had this idea that I was damaged and not worth anything anymore.   I cried and yet felt relief at the same time.  The confusing world of mental illness and over sensitivity at its best, maybe they did know what they were talking about after all.   It took some time, but I accepted what I knew was the right choice and in the end realized that I could still contribute to society in many ways, but had the ability to do it on my terms, in my time and if I needed to walk away and take a break I could.  So, I began writing again and found a new love of photography. 

So, how does this all relate to sensitivity, you ask.  Well, for many people being sensitive is just part of who they are.  Everyone is sensitive at some point and in some way, its human nature.  However, for those who live with a mental illness, being sensitive becomes a challenge of mere survival and the trying to find a healthy balance. 

Being overly sensitive to a situation or comment made is called a trigger, or some may refer to it as having a switch that is flicked on.  These actions or words are seen as an insult, the assumption that someone does not like you, or you are simply not good at your job or an activity you are involved in.  While you know these are not true, the brain does not offer an objective picture of the situation and the ability to feel what is real and what is not is clouded.  The challenge is to learn how to see these triggers for what they are, ideas that developed from the actions and words of others with the absence of evidence.   Be aware that when you begin to use the words; always, everybody, never, nobody, etc., it is a sign that you may not be hearing what is being said in the right context. 

To help change the thought pattern and distorted thinking, it should be looked at as a learned skill.  For instance, when an incident occurs consider writing it down. 

Form four columns with enough room to write about the occurrence in detail.

• ·         The incident or trigger
• ·         What you felt at the time (how it was perceived)
• ·         How could it be seen another way (the other side of the coin)
• ·         How can your reaction be adjusted in the future

By doing this exercise, over time it can become second nature and train your mind to face these incidents with less stress anxiety in the future.   In addition to writing these situations down, it is also important to find additional ways to relax and calm your mind such as, exercise, talking with someone, such as a trusted friend or therapist, as well as painting or writing.  

I know for myself I need to learn and relearn, sometimes on a daily basis how to combat what I encounter.  As my mind battles the challenges of Schizophrenia, I need to continually remind myself that what I am feeling may not be the truth, as I know I am overly sensitive to conflict and criticism (or what I may perceive as criticism).   It is not  uncommon for me to play a situation over and over in mind for days, creating different scenarios in my mind of what I should have done or what I can do in the future,  and at times I find myself having the conversation out loud.  Maybe that is a good thing, they say when rehearsing a speech read it out loud to see if it makes sense. 

By learning what your triggers are and how your mind processes information, you have the most powerful weapon in defeating the effects of your reaction to being overly-sensitive to what we face in the world on a daily basis.  

My Search for a Mental Health Service Dog

 I learned about service dogs for mental health a couple years when I was hospitalized, and right away I knew it was a great idea and wanted to be part of it.  I contacted a trainer in the area and requested information, I knew soon I would have a dog of my own and he or she would be the answer I was looking for.   After filling out the lengthy forms and a few emails later I learned that there was a three year wait for a dog as they were in high demand, I was immediately crushed and felt once again I was alone in this daily battle for stability.   

When I began doing research on what a service dog for mental health actually does and what they are capable of helping with, what I found was quite remarkable.  The training they receive is extensive and they are taught to focus on the most common symptoms for each illness; because of this each service dog’s job is unique to the person.  The most common mental illnesses the dogs are trained for are Schizophrenia, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety and Bipolar Disorder.    

For these illnesses specifically, a trained service dog is able to minimize anxiety by licking the handler’s face or hands, pawing at them and physically engaging them.   They can indicate whether something is there or not for those with visual or auditory hallucinations.   For PTSD and those who have night terrors, the dog is able to awaken the person, turn on lights, and help them calm down.   If depression becomes severe, the dog is able to get the person up to go for a walk, play and simply have them moving.    

So with such a long wait list the idea of getting a puppy came to mind, after all a puppy would be fun and certainly add some excitement to life.  He or she would be able to provide me with the support I needed and wanted.  What I found, however, was not what I was expecting.  In November we got a Yellow Labrador puppy, she was 7 weeks when we brought her home and just the cutest thing I’d ever seen.  While this ball of fur was a welcome addition, over the next couple months I began to see a change in myself and it wasn’t for the better.   This puppy, who was supposed to bring such joy and comfort, was causing my illness to compound itself in not so welcome ways.  I became more anxious, my sleep patterns were way off, stress became a daily issue and depression set in.  I would often dissociate and my auditory and visual hallucinations increased, this was not what was supposed to happen.    

It took awhile to realize that while it was a good idea to have a dog and she is able to help me, having a puppy and raising her to be a helpful dog for me, was not the right path.   On the positive side she does help me concentrate on being active and social by taking her for walks, playing and talking with people we meet.  However, I didn’t expect life to change in the way it did.  Having a puppy is like having a toddler; they need constant supervision and attention.  She took over our lives; the spontaneity that was once enjoyed was no longer available as she could not be left alone for a long period of time.  I became angry, I wanted “my life back”, I missed the adventures of life and the freedom, and there are days when it is a greater weight on me than I would like, knowing life will never be the same. 

It is often in these moments, when I sit down and sometimes cry because I am trying to do something and she wants to “help” me that I get frustrated, and then I look at her and all I see are these bright green eyes looking at me and that puppy face and I know she is maybe in her way already trying to help, she knows what I need and I am the one not listening to her. 

I still struggle quite a bit, but we are getting to where we want to be.   Not only is she learning about us, but we are learning about her and I have to adjust to what she needs, it’s not all about me.  My intellectual side knows that, but the other side, the one that does not see things the right way, fights back and I am caught in the middle. 

The lesson here is, yes a service dog is a wonderful addition and is very helpful, however when making the decision to have one, it may be wise to be patient and wait for a trained dog.  The idea of a puppy and the fun it can bring is nice, but weigh the pros and cons before you do and make sure you are prepared for not only the life changes it will bring, but the challenges you may face mentally as well.

5 Reasons We May Fail When Trying to Stabilize Mental Illness

It’s been over 21 years since I’ve been diagnosed with Schizo-Affective disorder, (a combination of Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia) and in that time I have learned what is takes to not only survive, but live with my diagnosis.

When I was first diagnosed I was sure I could do it on my own, most of us do.  We believe we know better than the doctors, after all we know ourselves and what we are capable of.  We don’t set out to fail, as with any illness we want to feel well and capable of living our lives fully.   Mental Illness is different, with such a stigma attached; feeling the need to hide it offers one of many reasons  to stop treatment or even start. 

#5 – Hospitals:  If you’ve spent time on a psych ward you would understand it is not a place to learn about your diagnosis in its full extent.   It is a group of individuals trying to understand how they got to be where they are and what they have to do to leave and get better.  The nurses, techs and ultimately the doctors can talk and prescribe medication, all the while hoping that when their patient is discharged they will continue treatment, though there is no guarantee.   So, yes hospitals have their place, they can start the process, but it’s a long term solution that is needed. 

#4 – Medications:   With so many medications available, it is hard to find the combination that will work.  Often times it can take months and multiple tries to find what is right for you.  Sadly, there is no one drug that will work for all mental illnesses, is it trial and error.   In some cases, side effects can lead to further illness and/or hospitalization.   This can be why treatment is often stopped, the endless frustration from not finding a treatment that will work can be overwhelming.   

#3 – Doctors:   It takes time to find a doctor you connect with and feel comfortable talking to, if not you may be less likely to listen to them.  It can take time, but it is important when you are serious about your treatment.   Psychiatrists and Psychologists alike are there to help, but it is a two way street, so understanding on both sides is vital. 

#2 – Friends and Family:  We may have heard a friend or family member say that the diagnosis is just something the doctor made up, you were just a little sad for a few days, or being told it’s not something to talk about, what will people think?   Knowing those you rely on the most are not supportive, or willing to listen and help, can set the cycle in motion again This ultimately leads to medications not being taken, doctor visits cancelled and the mind spinning looking for answers.  In the same breath, the opposite can also be true, family can promote the illness in order to keep their loved one medicated and “under control.” 

#1 – Ourselves:   It is our human nature to believe we know more than those who are telling us what to do, feel, or say.  The idea is adopted that the illness does not exist and that if it is ignored, it will go away.  Doctors can talk all they want, medications can be taken, but if we want to believe we are fine and go on with life as we see it, then that is what we will do.  It takes time for the realization to sink in that this is a life long illness and some help is needed, we are not super human, though there are times we believe we are. 

I know there are many more reasons or ideas that can be used to explain why it is so difficult to stabilize these illnesses, but if just one of these sounds familiar, then it is one step closer to finding the peace that is so desperately wanted and needed.

  

This is what it feels like to be lost and found in a psychotic episode

Mental illness shows itself in many ways, it can be sad, joyous, tiring, energetic, destructive and ultimately confusing.  There is one aspect though, that is often not talked about, it is the good, the bad and the ugly all rolled into one, it is psychosis.

When I started having psychotic episodes, they were exciting, wonderful and unsettling all at once.  You’re probably wondering how this is possible, well it is and each involved emotion plays an important part.

I do not always know I am heading into a psychosis, often someone will see it long before I do.  What I am aware of, however, is what is going on inside my brain, a mystical place full of wonder and promise, hopes and dreams, confusion and fear, all put together in a room,  let out in pairs and given the ability to experience life in the “real world.”

For me, this is how it begins.   Hopes and dreams appear first, being a writer and photographer I am suddenly struck with the most amazing ideas and decide that all of them are going to work, so I begin implementing each one all at the same time.  A new book idea is started, Writer’s groups are joined, and a photography site is set up as I wait impatiently for hundreds of adoring fans to praise my work – after all it is fantastic, right? 

Wonder and promise are not far behind. I go for walks and am amazed by the images I see, the boats on the water, the birds flying and not falling, surfers and paddle boarders riding the waves.  I think of what it must be like to be on a fishing boat, to walk on an island and take those breathtaking pictures that people are waiting to see. The whole world is in front of me, the promise of what is possible and with every part of my being I know I can make it happen.  I am restless and wandering is my only desire. 

Lurking in the back of that room are confusion and fear, they ease their way out, often unnoticed, and begin the not so nice side of this otherwise joyous experience.  Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, there is a flash of something out of the corner of my eye.  A person, an animal, a car passing by, I can’t really be sure; all I know is it doesn’t feel right.  When the two little trouble makers feel the hallucinations are not enough they add sound bites as I hear my name called when no one is around.  These two little imps are clever, for fun they throw in uncontrolled thoughts, and I begin to wonder if people are mad at me, why are they not talking to me, did I do something to upset them, am I not good enough?  These are often combined with the idea something is about to go terribly wrong.  Ah, they are devilish, cunning little things. 

See all this goes on at once, a tornado swirling around my brain.  There is the part of me that wants it to end, the power of confusion and fear are too much, but the idea of endless opportunities and ability could stick around, but I know it won’t.  They will go back into their room and wait for another time to come out, and with them take the brilliant sunshine and promise they brought me.  I know it’s not reality, I figured that out a long time ago, but for a period of time I am on top of the world, I was invincible.  Sadly, when it all ends I feel I am nothing, my photos will seem dull and lifeless and my brilliant writings are junk.   

I know people are scared at the mere idea of this, but to me it’s normal.  My mind, in all its chaos is a place I can hide, and sometimes it decides to come out and play; we understand each other – sort of.

No matter how you look at it, my brain has a mind of its own and what it is capable of is nothing short of amazing.

A Lesson I Keep Having to Learn and Relearn

In a perfect world we act, sometimes wrong, and when we do we learn not to do that action again.  We move on with life not really thinking about it again, chalking it up to one of life’s learning moments.

There are times though when, for me, that doesn’t always work.  There is that intellectual part of my brain that tells me, “You shouldn’t do that, you know what is going to happen and it’s time to step back and think first.”  Then there is a other side of the brain, the one that thinks it knows better and can control  everything, that  tells me, ”Don’t worry, we got this.”

Seems complicated, doesn’t it, actually it’s quite simple and it is in that simplicity that I lose myself and my logical thinking.  With my mental health challenges I know that I need to take care of myself in every way possible, the right amount of sleep, eat right, exercise, take my medication, but most of all I need to listen to my body and what my mind is telling me.  This lesson is one that was brought to the forefront recently and set me back a bit.

Working a part time job four or five days a week is OK, the hours are good and I have plenty of down time and freedom to focus on what I need to do.  However, a couple weeks ago they became shorthanded at work and asked me to come in on my two days off.  Of course I jumped at the chance, two extra days of pay, how could I turn that down.  My mind right away went to how much I could make with the additional days, what we would be able to do with the extra money – that was the focus, the extra money.  I wasn’t thinking about the affect it was going to have on me both mentally and eventually physically as well.  My normal five days suddenly turned into 12 days, it wasn’t until day 8 that it hit me and I realized what I mistake I made!   I had gone against my better judgement. 

Eight days in I was physically exhausted, I still believed I could do it, finish the next four with no problem, I had blocked the tiredness out of my head – dissociated you could say and kept moving.   When I finished my assigned days, I had two days off and collapsed.  I enjoyed the days off and knew that after that I would be on again for five more days. 

That’s when it hit me, I woke up that morning for work and a weight was on my chest.  The world was coming at me from every direction, conversations I’d had recently had suddenly became scenarios in my head where I was wrong and would be chastised for, and no good to anyone.  I was in the midst of a major anxiety attack.   For the first time in many months I took my anxiety medicine and went to work, wanting nothing more than to just be alone and let this pass, and jump start my brain again.

As you can imagine this is not the first time I have done this, felt I could take on the world and have no repercussions, and sadly it probably won’t be the last.  Each time, however, I can only hope that I get a little stronger, a little smarter and maybe a little wiser and know that I need to listen to not only my body, but my mind.  In my case, my mind is what is most important, if that happens to short circuit, the whole wall will tumble down and it will often take days to try and build it back up to try again.

Oddly enough, yes, there is a positive side to this.  I am learning, slowly and with encouragement that I need to take better care of myself.  Look at the bigger picture, i.e. myself, not what a few extra days of work will do for the bank account, think of what it will do to me.  It’s not selfish, its self care and knowing what it will take to stay well and available for friends, family and life in general. 

Stormy Seas and Our Moods

"I have seen the sea when it is stormy and wild;

when it is quiet and serene;

when it is dark and moody.

And in all its moods, I see myself. 

*Martin Buxbaum

Remembering who you are, you're not your illness.

If you change the wording a little, "Can you remember who you were, before mental illness told you who to be?"  Does it sound a little more familiar? 

I can, I have always been a creative person.  I remember being 10 years old sitting on my bedroom floor making clothes for my Barbie's, or swinging on the front porch writing stories.  I always had a book with me; spending summer vacations reading as many books as I could, the hours at the library made me feel alive.  It was seen as the dabbling of a child though; no one put much thought into it or asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up.  I was told I was going to college and I would get a degree, get a job, get married and have babies.  I called their bluff, however, and enlisted in the military; I wanted to be on my own, away from the world I knew.  It never stopped my love of writing though, I continued - only no one knew.  I kept it too myself, my secret, the person I really was.

Mental illness changes many things in life and it can be difficult to silence the voices that say this is as good as it will be, the past is over, the person who was, can no longer be.  These are the lies that are transmitted with a diagnosis.  It feels as if, with the doctor’s words, comes a badge that tells us nothing will ever be the same again.

While there is some truth to this way of thinking, it's not the whole story.  A diagnosis of mental illness will change the future, that is true, but it cannot take away your past, the person you are deep inside.   There will be new challenges, an unseen battle of the mind that can make the days more difficult, but it does not mean that you are different as a whole person; it is merely a different way of living and looking at the world. 

This idea, however, does not come easy.  With such a diagnosis there is the immediate fear of stigma and being ashamed, both of which are society’s perception.  Life seems different and there is the question of how it will be now, medication, doctor visits, therapy.  Do I tell people? Friends, family, work colleagues?  These questions themselves are enough to add to the anxiety, but taking a step back can help bring it into perspective.  

If a friend came to you and said they had received a diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder, what would you do?  Think about that for a minute, what is the first thing you would do?   For most of us we would hope that we would be supportive, and there is no doubt we would be, but would there be a second of doubt and uncertainty?  Would you question, maybe for the first time who this person is?  Have they changed in your eyes? 

Now, look in the mirror - do you have these same questions about yourself?  The diagnosis of mental illness not only creates doubt and uncertainty in those around us, but in ourselves as well.  That is why we need to sit back and remember who we truly are, the person deep inside, whom we are at our core.  

Growing up you may have wanted to be an artist, but society told you that it was not a lucrative career path, were they wrong, or was it only their opinion?  With this new diagnosis, it will also be their opinion that you will hear.  Maybe now will be the perfect time to start a new career, follow that dream you always thought you couldn't have.  It can be seen as a new lease on life, a new beginning.  

While this total shift in careers or life may not be possible for everyone, it does offer the chance to explore what is inside of us a little more.  Creating a stronger and more resilient person than we ever thought we could be.  

What a Wallaby taught me about Bipolar Disorder.

 

Have you ever had a moment when things become a little clearer, you could relate a specific incident to what you were feeling?  I had one of those moments this morning; it was heart wrenching but triggered something in my mind, I suddenly realized that I was not alone in my struggle and I could learn something everyday on how this illness works and what others do to live with it and make the right decisions, or even how to live with the bad ones.  

 It was 6am, and I was driving to the beach for a sunrise walk, thinking of the sand, the sun and the quiet during the morning, when I saw them – the Wallabies  One hopped causally across the road; I slowed down knowing there was probably another not far behind.  Sure enough he was on the side of the road trying to decide if he should cross.   As we watched each other, he turned  back into the bush, or so I thought.   Watching him return to where he’d come from I continued on – well, he had a last second change of heart and turned to road as I drove past him, the two of us meeting in a split second, and I couldn’t stop.   I felt the bump, and in that moment and my heart sank.   I slowed looking in my mirror terrified at what I would see and what I had done.   However, he wasn’t there!   Where had he gone?  I was sure I had hit him.  

 So, what does this have to with Bipolar Disorder, you ask?   As I walked down the beach, thinking over the incident just moments before, I realized the Wallaby was as confused as I am sometimes, turning back and forth, not sure of the next step to take.  My mind jumbled, turning in circles as I figure out my following move.

 Hiding in the bush wondering if he should come out, is like hiding in a dark room afraid to go outside, to let people in.  What will they think?  If they see will they stop and talk, or will they just walk by.

 Standing on the side of the road deciding what to do, is the spinning mind and the uncertainty that plagues everyday actions.   Too many days are spent wondering what to do with the racing thoughts, wishing they would stop and focus to be on a single moment and action, if only for a few minutes.

Tires catching his tail are the risks taken – both good and bad.   When incorrect decisions are made, there are people who are hurt; there is a feeling of helplessness and seemingly no way to make it better.  The good is when a risk is taken and can stand tall, no matter the pain and press on determined to do the right thing. 

Wallabies, Kangaroos, Wombats and various other wildlife find their way on to the roads, and their struggle with survival, taking chances, relying on instinct to make the right decision is relatable to those with mental illness and challenges faced daily.   

There is no doubt. I will look more closely from this day forward, though that isn’t a guarantee of it not happening again, just like each cycle, I go through – as mania and depression collide – I will at some point come face to face with an obstacle along the road.

 

 

Dispelling the fear of Hypomania

I sit on the rocks overlooking the Tasman Sea as I write this, watching the waves come in, crashing below me.  Some swells reaching several feet, others a mere ripple, all of them though are amazing and powerful in their own way.  Nature directs their path and intensity, in a similar way our minds guide our modds and how the cycle we are in will affect us.  Hypomania, mania and depression - they come and go, each moment in time.

Do a search about Bipolar disorder and you’ll find thousands of results explaining every aspect from depression to mania, medication, depression and the lesser known hypo-mania.  My partner recently read an article about hypo-mania and how it is often a prelude to either a severe depression or more sever mania.  The beginning of the article reads like a warning label, “Hypo-Mania – Danger Alert,” and while the symptoms listed are correct, it should not be written as a warning of impending doom for those who may be just learning about Bipolar Disorder, whether it is the individual or their friends and family.

 

The reality is hypomania, yes can be a pre-cursor to a full blown manic episode or a depressive episode, there is no denying that; however, let’s look at it from another point of view.

·       Learn what hypomania is and how it is different for each person.  A blanket description only tells you what could happen.  You have to discover for yourself, with the help of a partner, friends and your doctor, what triggers your mood and what symptoms are dominant.      

·      Make a list of your symptoms, how they affect you and those around you.  Both the good and bad.

·      Keep track of how long the cycle lasts and what happens as it dissipates.  This is important as it will give you the information you need if you then become depressed or actions become more intense leading to a full blown manic episode.

a.    To monitor my moods I use a daily chart and track my level of depression, anxiety, mania and sleep.  By looking at these numbers I am able to see when I was up or down and can then correlate that with a particular event or see a pattern evolve over a couple weeks, or if the seasons have changed.  The seasons can play a large part in our mood cycles. 

·      The symptoms of hypomania without a doubt can be harmful, but that does not mean you should be protected from life and kept sheltered.

a.    If you have a history of spending money while manic, have a limit set on your credit cards and bank card, so you can only spend a certain amount.  If you are in a relationship and have a joint account, let your partner know how you are feeling.  This can be one of the hardest things to do, as when mania hits it feels good and the last thing we want is someone to take that feeling away. 

b.    Anger and irritability are common.  Try yoga to relax or writing to help clear your mind.

c.    If there is a tendency for promiscuity, have someone you trust be an accountability partner. If you go to a party, don’t go alone and have someone else drive who is aware of you illness and will be your “wing man” for the evening.

d.    Projects are probably one of the most common signs.  I can’t tell you how many I have planned, started and never finished.  On a good note it shows creativity and that we are alive and capable of many things, however, ideas can get away from us and accumulate quickly, leading to being overwhelmed and confused.  Make a list of your ideas and the steps it would take to achieve them and if you would be able to do it, even after the hypomania ends.  As hard as it may be, pick one or two to focus on for a week.  This makes it more manageable.  If after a week you want to try something else, stop one or both of the previous projects before starting the new one. 

It is important to not look at hypomania, or even mania itself and the ideas and projects that can come from them as all bad, they are things that you are obviously passionate about and are important, the problem is we want to do them all at the same time.  Learning to harness the excitement and energy is key.  It is possible, to use hypomania to your advantage as you get to know your symptoms, triggers and how you react to the cycles.   

As with most things, there is the good and bad, what it important here is to look deeper into the information you are seeking, there will be numerous articles all claiming to have the answer and telling you what to expect, take them at face value and see what works for you.  You are the one who matters and needs to educate not only yourself, but those around you as well.