Category: Depression

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Depression Relationships Slider

4 Thoughts on Marriage, Long-Term Relationships, and Bipolar Disorder

Everyone needs love in their life. Like many mentally ill people, I have experienced a great deal of turmoil in all facets of my life, including romance. I’ve been engaged twice, but never married. I was diagnosed and started on my recovery path around the same time that my second engagement ended.

I distinctly remember her expressions of pained confusion as my mind melted down. At the time I was diagnosed, I decided to just stay single because I was tired of dragging people I loved through pain and misery with me. But, after three years working on recovery, I began to see that it was certainly possible to have a long-term, happy relationship as a mentally ill person. The problem is that a lot of the advice and information out there is aimed at a generic, lowest common denominator “typical” person.

The following thoughts are derived from my own recovery, as well as listening to the woes of several married couples where Bipolar Disorder is present. Your mileage may vary.

1. Accept that not everyone can handle mental illness.

You don’t have to look far to find articles about how people with mental illness need kindness, compassion, and understanding. That is true. However, it’s also true that not everyone has a thick enough skin to handle mental illness. It can be frightening, disturbing, and confusing. Not everyone can handle that, and that’s okay.

It is worthwhile to consider what kind of experience and opinions a potential partner holds about mental illness. Have they ever been emotionally close to a mentally ill person before? Do they accept it is a medical problem, an illness? What kind of challenges have they faced in their lives? Will this person fall to pieces if they are confronted with the worst your mental illness has to offer?

I find that there are a lot of people that want to be understanding and compassionate, but the extremes of mental illness are just so different and unsettling that they don’t understand how to be.

2. The traditional tropes of partnership don’t necessarily apply.

A traditional idea of marriage sees two people joining their life together in many ways to be partners in this life. I know it’s a heart-warming, romantic notion to many. In a relationship involving Bipolar Disorder or other mental illness, there has to be at least some degree of space between the partners.

I’ve heard the following scenario dozens of times.

Husband has Bipolar Disorder and is the primary source of income. Husband swings manic, cleans out the bank account, and bails on wife and children. Husband may be a fantastic guy when well and balanced, but for the next several months, he’s teetering on the edge of out of his mind while mania does what it does. Wife is forced to cajole, coerce, or literally beg husband to keep their family afloat and a roof over their heads, not always succeeding.

In my well, placid state of mind, I would never want that for my family. Any half-decent person with a conscience wouldn’t want that for their family. So, I would never want to fully intertwine my financials with a long-term partner, because who knows what I might think is a good idea when I’m out of my mind? Separate bank accounts, avoid cosigning for things if it can be avoided, maybe a mutual bank account for paying bills and rent at the most. Need to build or rebuild credit? Get yourself a Secured Credit Card instead of cosigning a debt.

Not everything needs to be meshed together. And in my opinion, it definitely shouldn’t be. Boundaries are necessary.

3. Patience. Take your time developing the relationship.

Personally, any time I start to feel too good, I just assume I’m escalating until I can confirm that I’m not. Hitting things off well with another person can certainly be a escalation trigger for Bipolar Disorder. In fact, the following scenario is the most common that people write to me about.

Person A meets Person B and there is immediate chemistry. Person B lives with Bipolar Disorder. The relationship takes off hot and heavy. They’re my soul-mate! It’s intense, it’s passionate, everything seems to be perfect for about three to six months. Then, things change. They change because Person B triggered into mania, the cycle runs its course, and they crash hard into depression. Person A is confused, they want the person they fell in love with back!

Well, that’s what they think they want. In reality, the person they fell in love with may not actually exist. Mania can be a distortion of the person with Bipolar Disorder. It can also create totally fictional feelings and beliefs, making it not real at all. So many people are looking for this romanticized notion of a soul-mate. They think they find it in manic Person B because mania isn’t anything like what they’ve known before, unless they’re actually familiar with Bipolar Disorder, in which case they would know that it’s not a good thing at all.

Patience is a virtue that everyone needs more of. Date for at least two years before making any major decisions like getting a place together. This is good for both parties. It prevents the person with Bipolar Disorder from acting on fictitious emotions they may not actually feel and it gives the partner a chance to see a wide sampling of the mood swings and how things can be.

If you meet a person and you’re flooded with all of these overwhelming feelings of perfection, love, beauty, and purity of passion; assume it’s mania until you can prove otherwise. A lack of doubt is a major warning flag for escalation.

4. Do not hide your mental illness to achieve a relationship.

People come and go in life. Living with mental illness, we often see a number of people go. Friends are nowhere to be found, relationships crumble when drastic unwellness hits. It can be tempting to want to hide this facet away from a potential partner, but that’s a mistake.

You can’t build a healthy, loving relationship on distrust and partial information. Healthy relationships aren’t built that way. Sooner or later the partner will find out, and they will be hurt and feel betrayed. You’ll be setting yourself up for failure from the start.

The matter of mental health does need some partnership to it. If you’re going to spend a large amount of time with a person, it would help both parties out if they could communicate and work together to overcome the inevitable hurdles that the mental illness will contribute. I’ve talked to both mentally ill people and their partners who think that it can just be the sole domain of the mentally ill person, that it can be kept from affecting the partner. That’s naive, wishful thinking at best.

When’s the best time to have that discussion? Earlyish. It doesn’t have to be immediately, but somewhere before love and serious relationship sets in. I prefer sooner so I don’t waste our time.

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Coping Depression Slider

Wounds Can Close but Not Fully Heal

The path of recovery and change is long and hard.

You can spend twenty years working on a dysfunction, doing everything you can to learn how and why it happened, work to make sure it won’t happen that way again, but end up with it thrown right back in your face. It starts with a simple error in judgment and can easily start to run away from you. You get sucked up into the emotions that you thought you had overcame a long time ago. They fuel more bad decisions, you don’t listen to the people you should, and you only look forward with blinders.

The next thing you know, you’re staring at yourself in the cracked mirror that you thought you had fixed years ago. All of the horrible feelings that went along with it, all of the crushing blackness of depression and self-loathing, is sitting right there on your shoulder again. It laughs and mocks. It digs and picks at you. It will try to throw you straight back down into the hole you spent years climbing out of.

But, you have to forgive yourself. You have to acknowledge you’re human and will make bad decisions. And it doesn’t mean you are less of a person or stupid. It’s just the nature of the road that leads to self-improvement. The best approach is to own it, do your best to repair it, and move past it.

In related subject matter, I can’t tell you how stupid I used to think adjusting negative self-talk was. Like many people, I would colossally fuck up, look in the mirror, and tear myself to pieces. Many moons ago, I did end up learning from a therapist that it can play a major role in helping to alleviate future crashes and depression. The more you dwell and focus on it, even in using negative language against yourself, the more fuel you throw onto the fires so they can burn hotter and longer.

So for the people out there who think the idea of positive self-talk is stupid (which I did for many years), it’s really not. It’s just no one really explains that it helps adjust the whole way in which you perceive yourself and deal with your mistakes. It’s not a one time thing and it’s not going to drastically swing things for the positive, but it does make dealing with the lows a bit easier. It’s one small piece of the overall picture.

You’ll have setbacks, you’ll make mistakes, and ghosts from your past may come back to haunt you from time to time. The important thing is to not dwell too long on them. Acknowledge them, work to repair the damage, and move forward. And try not to be too much of an asshole to yourself when it eventually does happen; because it will.

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Depression

Contemplating the Masks of Depression

What do you think of when you hear the word, “Depression”? Is it an image of a sullen, morbid soul who is sitting in darkness by themselves? That is a very common stereotype facilitated by pop culture and some of the easiest to understand extremes of depression.

Depression has many masks. The name is quite literal. It literally depresses a person’s ability to experience many emotions in a way that you would expect from a healthy mind. It can look very stereotypical, like anger, or in some cases, it can look like nothing at all. The person may be totally functional in every day life. They hold down a job, have a family, go about their lives; but they are unable to feel the emotions they are supposed to.

How many people do you know that are just angry and bitter all the time for seemingly no reason? And I’m not talking about just a hard life either. That can certainly contribute. Even people with hard lives do have temporary reprieves from time to time. Maybe it’s being proud of a child for an accomplishment, getting a raise at work, or having a great night with the spouse.

Instead? There’s just nothing there. Just emptiness, hollowness, pointlessness. And that emptiness gets filled with anger and bitterness as the weeks, months, and years grind on. Depression won’t let that person feel happy or any kind of joy or satisfaction. Maybe enough time passes where the person moves past that into a desolate landscape where the mind can’t even muster up anger anymore.

Many people think that because life is hard, it’s normal to never feel joy or happiness; for anger and bitterness to replace sadness. It’s not.

It’s depression. And it can be caused by anything from a bad diet, to poor sleep hygiene, to trauma, to not exercising, to the seasons changing, to a lack of sunshine, and so much more.

Are you depressed? I think there are a couple of pretty easy questions to ask yourself to determine whether or not you should speak to a doctor.

Do you feel any strong emotions other than emptiness, anger, or bitterness? How did you feel the last time something good happened to you? Were your emotions appropriate for what transpired?

Many screening tools ask a question like, “Are you able to enjoy your hobbies or interests?” The reason is that you’re supposed to be able to, but depression can rob you of that, too.

Sadness and depression get a bit trickier. Genuine sadness is not supposed to feel empty or hopeless. It should also not make you feel as though you should hurt yourself or not be here any longer. Genuine sadness is not a black hole. There is supposed to be emotional pain there. A lack of emotional pain and numbness may also potentially point to depression.

If this writing resonated with you, if it’s something you see in yourself, talk to your doctor. That does not necessarily mean you need or should go on meds, either! Quite a few people successfully combat depression with lifestyle changes and healthier habits.

Life is difficult enough as it is. Don’t let it rob you of the ability to feel emotions, too.

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Depression

Depression: I Should Have Felt Something…

"Melancholy 2" by Andrew Mason (London, UK) - cropped version of: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Melancholys_Warm_Embrace.jpg. Licensed under CC BY 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Melancholy_2.PNG#/media/File:Melancholy_2.PNG

Addition: I originally wrote this blog post in a pretty dark swing. I felt it was a good idea to demonstrate that even if you have a decent control, there are still times of struggle. So I went ahead and just wrote this while I was dark so you all could see that side of things and how I work to manage it. I’m level and fine now, for anyone concerned.

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Depression robs a person of experiences and feelings. Everything is just pulled into a flat, gray place where there is little to feel. Case in point – the release of my eBook. I knew I would ramp hypomanic, and I did so. I knew I would crash back out of it relatively quickly, and I did so. What I was not counting on was my brain settling back into moderate Bipolar-Depression AFTER the depressive crash.

So once again, I’m reminded of all of the things that I should have felt – happiness, pride, a sense of accomplishment – fucking anything. I did for a bit, but I know that was all a product of the escalation. Is it possible that I’m still in the midst of a depressive crash? No. That feels like my brain is downshifting from 10th gear all the way down to neutral. It’s been a couple of days and my crashes don’t last that long. It’s definitely a depressive cycle.

And that bitter gray flavor of emotion is just a call back to the many other times in my life I should have felt something but could not because of my piece of shit brain. I remember asking my second exfiancee to marry me, her response being tears. I recall feeling so flat and wondering why she was crying. I adored that woman. A moment that should have been filled with emotion, warmth, and joy when she accepted – I felt so numb.

And finding out about my son. A time when I should felt anything at fucking all. Fear, pride, trepidation, love, curiosity – ANYTHING. But there was only the numbness, the flat gray place where everything is muted and nonexistent.

The point that many people fail to realize about Depression in general is that it doesn’t just quash the positive things. I’ve felt just as flat, pointless, and absolutely gray on hard or difficult shit that I should have cared about. Girlfriend wants to break up? Whatever. Lost job number whatever? Figures. Blah blah blah. Same bullshit, different fucking day. It pretty much just merges several days into a single long, gray day.

So I do what I’ve been doing for 20 years, what many other mentally ill people do. Plaster on a smile, thank people for the congratulations and kind words, and pretend my emotions are functioning correctly. But then there is arguably the most important point, the one that will matter to you. How to deal with it?

This is why I don’t place great stock in how I feel about various things. It doesn’t matter that I feel pretty much nothing about meeting this goal. Regardless of how I feel, it’s still out there, it will still hopefully help some people better understand the Disorder, the shit that surrounds it, and the subject matter it covers. How I feel is irrelevant – which is a phrase many people have heard me say on numerous occasions though I know most of them don’t exactly “get it”. Much of the time I feel nothing, and if I allow myself to live in that mental space I’ll never get anything accomplished.

Emotions stemming from Bipolar unwell cycles may have some root in reality, but they are not our true emotions. They are a figment of the mental illness. It’s best to set aside decisions about important things until after those feelings are back under control. If more of us could learn to do that, I think we could remove a lot of the general instability and chaos of our lives. Most decisions don’t require us to make them RIGHT NOW, but we do because our brain is screaming at us we fucking need to or our brains are overloaded with incorrect, irrational emotions.

And that’s exactly why I’ve already started working on my second eBook on maintaining friendships and relationships involving Bipolar Disorder. I know my brain is being a pile of shit at the moment and I’m not going to allow that to dictate what I am going to accomplish. Even if I feel numb and gray, it will still be out there benefiting others. Once my brain swings back into place, I’ll be pleased with that.

How I feel is irrelevant.

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Coping Depression

Normal For You Does Not Mean Normal For All #depression #mooddisorder

Image courtesy of www.freedigitalphotos.net and by the artist David Castillo Dominici.

Spend any amount of time on social media and you will see proclamations about how there is no “normal” being thrown around. “There is no such thing as normal.” “Normal is just a setting on a washing machine.” Blah blah blah.

There is a normal. I believe that normal is at the most basic level of human existence. My regular readers will know that I have a severe Bipolar-Depression component of Bipolar Disorder. I’ve spent about 80% of my teenage to adult life mired in mild to suicidal Bipolar-Depression ranging from just “fuck it all” to “put a 9mm to my head and pull the trigger on a dud round” suicidal. Though many people equate depression to sadness; it is really more like your feelings are muted (or “depressed”).

The analogy I use to describe it is that of a stained glass window. A stained glass window is alive and vibrant with color when light pours through it. Consider that to be life and normal emotion. Depression is layer after layer after layer of wax paper put over that stained glass window. It diffuses the color, the light, the vibrancy. The wax paper mutes the light and makes it hard to perceive. You look at it, and you know it’s supposed to be bright and vibrant; but all you can perceive is the muted colors trying to get through. At least, until there is so much wax paper on the window that it is all gray.

By and large, that was my normal for a majority of my adult life. Day in, day out. Wake up in the morning, curse silently to myself that I woke up again. Look in the mirror, hate what I see. Grind through another meaningless, pointless day to when I can go back to sleep. Avoid human contact, put on the plastic smile so people will stop asking what’s wrong because I had no idea what’s wrong. And when I dipped far and low enough- contemplate killing myself. Should I unsnap my seat belt, punch it to 100, and hit that bridge support? Should I slit my wrist and step off of the local bridge to ensure I don’t survive this time? Should I drink tonight? Get high? Make it all go away for awhile?

That was my normal, but that is not normal.

Humans are not meant to function in that kind of emotional wasteland. We are social, emotional creatures; even the introverts out there. We are supposed to have feelings; including happiness from time to time! I know it exists. I felt it once, in what I suspect was the window between a dosage increase and my body getting acclimated to it. I felt sad. There was no numbness, no void, no emptiness. I just felt sad and I had that feeling you get behind your eyes when you’re about to cry; but no tears came. Then, I realize I had felt sad without depression and that made me happy and excited. There was no stain of hypomania, no accelerated thinking, no erratic behavior, no unreasonable emotions; just warm and positive even though the overall circumstances were sad.

That’s the only time I remember feeling genuinely happy or sad in probably 20 years. It stands out so starkly in my mind because of how different it felt. The rest of the time? Barring hypomania, I’m standing below that stained glass window, waiting for any kind of light to get through and show me something beautiful. I want it, even if it is something just as simple as feeling good about stepping out into a sunshiny day and listening to birds sing.

I know a lot of people that are depressed who do not realize they are depressed. No, I’m not a doctor or therapist. I am someone who has lived with severe Bipolar-Depression for a long time. I know what it is for the same reason I know what a chair is. It has four legs, a back, sometimes arms, and you sit in it. It’s a common and consistent part of my life. Just as common to me as the void that is depression, if not more so. After all, when I wake up in the middle of the night and stare at the ceiling, I’m not looking at a chair; but my old friend Bipolar-Depression is typically there to greet me.

Anyway, I regularly see the depressed tell themselves that it’s normal to feel placid or nothing constantly. That life is hard. There are wars and famine and cruel injustices in the world; and they should just be thankful for what they have in life instead of striving for better. Depression is incredibly common because of this.

But therein is the problem. Even people in terrible circumstances are able to find a piece of happiness once in awhile. Maybe it’s their child’s smile. Maybe it’s a delicious meal. It doesn’t have to be complicated or grandiose. The point is, they feel something other than emptiness, numbness, and misery. Something other than another gray day to grind through until they can go back to sleep.

The mocking humor in this? Depression is relatively easy to treat. No, it doesn’t necessarily mean shoveling meds down your throat. A change in sleeping and living habits can potentially provide relief. Exercise and dieting can help. There are many routes that could have a beneficial impact on the person that should be explored with a general practitioner.

But they don’t, because it’s “normal” to be gray, miserable, and feel little to nothing.

Normal is being able to conduct your life in a meaningful way. It’s being able to function appropriately in a healthy way. You can be rich, poor, goth, punk, hip-rop, city, country, conservative, liberal; whatever. The unifying factor is the ability to conduct your life in a meaningful way; regardless of how you choose to pursue your existence. THAT is normal.

As for me? I’m a Type 2 Bipolar with a severe Bipolar-Depression component. I’m still staring at that stained glass window, waiting for an antidepressant to cut through the wax paper and let the light flood back in. I catch it in glimpses here and there. I can see it trying. Just going to take some more time and some more work to get to the real normal.

The grayness and chaos of Bipolar-normal for me is not normal for all; even other Bipolars.

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Depression Self-Help

On Bipolar-Depression And Life Decisions…

Different people experience Bipolar Disorder in different ways. In my case, I’m a Type 2 Bipolar who spends a majority of his time in relatively functional depression. That has been my baseline since I was a teenager with regular dips into non-functionality.

So a few days ago, November 17th, I turned 35. About a month before that I found a document that was a 2013 report on the career I wanted to pursue for my state. I knew that the role I wanted to pursue was new and uncommon; but I did not think it was “only 150 people doing it in the entire state” new and uncommon. That kind of low existence isn’t really a career choice; it’s more like a craps shoot.

In years past, this would have been a trigger into morbid or suicidal depression. Today, I know how to handle that thanks to what I learned in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. There’s a window between the time the Bipolar person triggers and the destination they will wind up at. I know that I need to minimize the impact of my thoughts in that trigger window. I do that by forcing myself to not think or dwell about the circumstance unless I absolutely have to. In this case, realizing that it would be completely retarded for me to sink the time and effort into developing a career that only 150 people perform was the trigger.

Every time it would pop into my mind, I would force my mind somewhere else. I would distract myself with music I could really get into, talking or immersing myself in the struggles of other people, or video games. It took a few days, but eventually my mind felt like it reached the plane it was supposed to be at. The chaotic fluctuations were more muted and the waters seemed to have calmed. After that point, I was able to think about it with a clearer mind.

It still kicked me towards the depressive side; but no suicidal or self-destructive thoughts. I didn’t fall as far as I would have had I just jumped on those emotions of experiencing a set-back. This is an invaluable skill to develop if you’re Bipolar or Depressive. Do not just jump on your emotions when you hit an emotional experience. Does it always work out so neat and clean? No. It doesn’t. I fuck it up from time to time or it’s something I can’t put off; that I absolutely have to take care of. But when I am successful it makes things so much easier.

That initial slam of the trigger is the hardest part to work with. I’ve still had to deal with the periodic waves from needing to think about it and dealing with this monkey-wrench in my plans. I shout it down in my mind with the mantra I embraced when I was diagnosed; “swim or die”. Is it the end of my world? No. It’s not. Things rarely go as you plan them in life. I just have to keep swimming and find another way to accomplish my long-term goals.

My birthday was bittersweet and is often time for reflection. A year ago November 17th, my grandmother passed away. I grew up living across the street from her for most of my early life and when I was living with my folks as an adult. I love her dearly but I just don’t feel the loss like I know my family did. I attribute that to the logic from my autism overriding my emotions. She was obviously an older woman, 89 if I remember correctly, who had been experiencing kidney problems. It wasn’t surprising to me that a chain of events stemming from that could end with her passing.

I think that this understanding is why her death didn’t trigger me. I understood far ahead of time that old people + kidney problems = bad. I didn’t spend time wondering why or grieving the fact that she was gone because my brain knew that old people + kidney problems = bad.

I do think that it might have had a much more negative impact on me had it happened out of the blue; like a heart attack or aneurysm. That probably would have kicked me into a shitty depressive cycle because I had no time to get acclimated.

But, the discovery that my career of choice was actually 150 instead of maybe a couple thousand? That came out of nowhere and tried to slam me pretty hard.

People who deal with depression will be able to relate to this sentiment. For most of my life I couldn’t picture having a future because my present was mired in depression. When you’re severely depressed, everything just sort of blends together and becomes irrelevant. Why should I take care of myself? I don’t matter. Why should I plan for a future? I probably won’t be there anyways.

I spent about 20 years; from about 13 to 33, wrestling with these thoughts. My dad constantly jokes that he never thought he would make it to old age because of the life he led. I would often make the same type of joke, “I won’t make it to old age”; but I left off the rest of my thought. That thought being “I won’t make it to old age because I’m pretty sure I’ll end up killing myself long before then”.

But now, now I have a different reality. I found purpose and a deep sense of self-fulfillment in helping other people. That was not a thought that ever crossed my mind when I thought I was just a broken piece of shit. Sure, I would try to be there for a friend or something if they needed it. As for strangers? My depressive thoughts for the longest time were “you don’t give two shits if I’m alive or dead so fuck you too”; even if completely unfounded.

So I’m 35, turned an important corner a couple years ago in coming to terms with myself and what I have to offer the world. I’m 35, trying to figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life to be self-sufficient, to help people, to not lose my own war with Bipolar Disorder. And I am now back to square one on how to accomplish that.

I wish I could install a window in the side of my head for y’all to peek through at the debate that rages.

Depressed side: “You knew it wouldn’t work out. You fuck up everything you set out to. Idiot.”
Rational side: “Fuck that guy. Shit isn’t going as you planned, it never does. Find a new path.”
Depressed side: “Yeah find a new path that will just blow up in your face and fuck you over.”
Rational side: “Shut the fuck up. Victory goes to the tenacious; the people that overcome set-backs. So don’t listen to that bitch and figure something out.”

That’s pretty much how I debate things in my head with myself.

Inspirational as fuck, eh?

So I’ve spent the past few weeks, silently battling in my head and trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing. I have really boiled it down to two options.

A. Work a typical job and continue to do what I do through my website as my means of helping people. There are problems with this approach. That is going to require a heavy investment in time and energy in the week. Being Bipolar, I do need to attempt to keep my stress levels somewhat in check and have time to decompress so it doesn’t shove me into a hypomanic cycle. And if you’ve been lucky enough to not have to work too many low-tier jobs in your life; they don’t tend to honor or respect your time very often unless you have an actual decent superior. You’re a low wage monkey and can be replaced by any other low wage monkey. So that isn’t likely to work out in the long-term. Yes, there are good people that would work with me out there. There are also assholes that would smile to my face and start looking for any reason they could to get rid of me so my problems didn’t impact their ability to conduct business.

B. Go back to college. I could complete an Associates in Human Services Tech at the local college (or university for you folks not in America). The government should pay for it (or a majority of it) as part of vocational rehab to get me off of disability and back into the work force. Furthermore, if things went well, I could continue that education to four years; and then maybe even look at Graduate school to become a Therapist or Psych. I like the fact that I can increment it. Maybe I make it through two years but it’s hard as shit because my brain sucks and my short-term memory has the retention of a screen. I could take that two years and get a job as an aide or assistant.

Quite honestly, I would be looking further than that. I have a very unique, perfect storm of things going on with me that puts me in a position to contribute greatly. Bipolar but not too Bipolar; Autistic but not too Autistic; skilled written communicator who can articulate well; battered, bruised, damage- but not broken.

What I lack is credibility to medical professionals. A degree would be huge for that because I could say “Hey, I’ve been through all this shit; but I’ve had training like yours too. So perhaps you should at least hear me out instead of just looking at me like I’m fucking stupid?”

And then there is the matter of money. There is little to be money to be made in mental health. I’ve talked about my need to actually earn a couple times, and received a couple of messages about how “money isn’t everything” and “I shouldn’t be worried so much about that”.

Yeah, that’s all well and good; but I want to be self-sufficient and I like stuff. But even more than that; I’ve spent the last couple of years trying to figure out types of businesses that could push towards self-sustainability, provide opportunities for disabled people, the poor, and convicts trying to change their lives. That’s going to require money and I know that between my credit rating (LOLOLOLOL) and general history as a mental patient (also LOLOLOLOL); a traditional lender is going to look at me and shit themselves in laughter.

So if I want to even attempt something like that in the future; I’m going to need to have my shit straight. I’ll be in a decent position if I can make it through college with minimal debt. I’ll live below my means after that point so I can stockpile resources. If I decide to pursue a venture like that, I will probably have to appeal to independent investors for funding. And I would prefer to have at least half of the capital be my own money to demonstrate I believe in it and planned thoroughly enough to put my ass very much on the line.

College seems to be the right path but man; in addition to all the normal doubts…there’s the doubts that go along with being Bipolar. For example, I know cramming is fucking useless for me because my brain won’t retain information that way. I need to cram about a week ahead of time before the info pops out of the wasteland that is my short-term memory. And that many years? Oh I will definitely have unwell cycles and probably run into chaotic situations as a result. Sure, I have rights under the Americans with Disabilities Act; but will I be of mind to advocate for myself? To ensure that I am given the rights I am entitled to by law for being a nutcase trying to better my situation? Will I even be able to do anything about it if there is conflict?

I tried to go to college when I was younger and I succeeded at doing was racking up a $3000 internet bill from long-term, unwell decisions and blowing about $6000 in savings bonds that were gifted to me throughout my childhood.

But! There is good news in all of this.

I just turned 35 and I don’t look forward with hopelessness. Even when I am depressed, I still see a future for myself. Yeah, there are still times when I put on the headphones and zone out into a video game for several hours because I can’t think. But those times are much fewer and far between than they used to be. I had to reevaluate and change the way I looked at myself and my future. It’s something I’m still working on in a lot of ways.

The point to all of this? I no longer feel like I’m just killing time until I die. That came from a shift in a way I not only viewed myself but in the progress I’ve made fighting the Disorder with the help of doctors, medication, and therapy. That’s a change that so many others could have too if they jump into the fight, scrapping tooth and nail to win their own war.

I’ve gone from 20 years of feeling like shit about myself to knowing I will have a future. I’ve been able to close my hateful eyes and see someone with a unique combination of difficult experiences and gifts that can be used as a catalyst for others.

So if you look in the mirror and can only see yourself through depressive eyes; that doesn’t have to be your future. If I can do it, you can do it too.

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Coping Depression

The Anatomy Of My Depressive Crash

A depressive trigger was recently tripped in my brain and started off a depressive cycle. I felt my brain down shift about a week ago after a conversation with a good friend. I feel like this is a good opportunity to illustrate the shift, how I view it, what I do about it, and how I attempt to minimize the damage. In a majority of my writing, I aim to provide reasonable hope and the more positive point of view that medication and self-management has helped a lot (which it has). This post was written in a depressive state of mind so you can get a glimpse of that other me.

As for the inevitable flood of worry I know I’ll get from certain readers; I’ll be fine. My depression of today is nothing compared to my depression of 20 years ago. No suicidal thoughts or thoughts of self-harm; just the void. On a scale of about 0-10 with 0 being suicidal; I’m at about a 3-4 whereas the last several months I’ve been more at a 5-6. I attribute this to meds and self-management techniques.

So let’s dive into this cesspool.

The Depressive Trigger
The trigger? The trigger was my fault. I thought more than I talked and created a misunderstanding with my on again, off again “it’s complicated” friend. I’ve long looked at relocating to a place where I could pursue my career goals. The area I’m in doesn’t have the population or resources available really. My “it’s complicated” friend and I were making plans to share a place. In my mind, I was thinking this was a significant repairing of our last schism that had been on the mend for awhile and an inevitable next step. It also happened to coincide with several of her goals and needs as well as my desire for relocation.

After floating an alternative idea; it was realized that she was focused more on the practical sides of the arrangement. It made the most logical sense to her in that way. I drew conclusions and connected dots that weren’t present while she was fairly clear in communicating her perspective. The revelation and realization that I had got this wrong was my depressive trigger.

“But Dennis,” I hear the normals asking, “aren’t you just sad?” Fucking no. Sad is sad. Depression is a numb, empty void. Depression is nothingness. My brain dropped and shifted gears like an automobile. I was in a good mood, relatively placid; and then it felt like someone shifted from 5th gear to 3rd gear. My brain slowed down, my mood dropped into nothingness; and here I sit writing this. It’s been a week. It’ll probably be many more.

Since I know my friend will be reading this; I know you felt like an asshole and terrible about it. It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just the nature of dealing with a Bipolar person.

(Addition) After reading the initial drafts of this approach, my friend pointed out that I told her that I had informed her that I had hit a trigger in the conversation; which I didn’t remember. (Thanks for nothing, brain!) Anyway, I told her that I had hit a depressive trigger and that if I seemed to withdraw and become distant in the coming days, that’s why. She pointed out that this was helpful to her so she would know what was coming and not worry over the change in my mood, withdrawing, and increased introversion. Given that she has her own mental struggles as well; my telling her reduced her own anxiety and wondering about what was going on in my head. Hopefully, this is a solid demonstration of the benefit of open communication between partners/friends/family/whatever.

The Fallout
The long and complicated history I have with this woman was a significant catalyst. The connection I felt for her was immediate when we were youngin’s. I didn’t understand it, didn’t understand my mind, or the very different way my brain and emotions work as a High-Functioning Autistic. It also coincided with the emergence of Bipolar Disorder and puberty. It was not exactly a great time in my life. I engaged in some misguided behavior that could be construed as stalkery until she simply kicked me out of her life for good. That I could deal with.

As a High-Functioning Autistic, my brain tries to interpret everything in black and white. I could deal with being nothing or in mutual love. What I couldn’t deal with was an unrequited love that was so strong. I had no fucking idea how to handle that. I also didn’t know that what I was experiencing was abnormal. I never talked about my feelings because I never saw a need to and because my brain suffers in the conversion of emotions to vocalization- a common autistic trait.

That trigger took me back 20 years. It took me back to the pain, confusion, and misery. It was a stark reminder that even after all the time I’ve spent working to counter this bullshit; it can still sucker punch me out of nowhere. And over what? Dormant feelings from 20 years ago that I got over awhile ago. But unfortunately, my emotional processes are fucked.

My introversion is back in full force. Discarded my real life gaming group that I look forward to out of pure apathy. Just don’t give a fuck at the moment because I’m depressed, unsure, and aimless. Plans I saw as crystal clear shattered to pieces. Doubts I had rationalized and fought back all flooded back, particularly in regards to doing what I do with wanting to pursue a career in mental health.

It’ll probably be better for me to just get a run of the mill job and just continue to work through my website and personal writings. Maybe I’ll be able to finally finish the e-book I’ve been working on if I’m not trying to generate income by writing professionally. Is everyone else right? Should I be softer in my tone, language, and approach? What the fuck am I doing? Where am I going? What do I want to fucking accomplish? HOW do I accomplish it? Doubts, doubts everywhere. Doubts that were previously conquered and answered. Doubts that I had previously made decisions and plans on that now threatened to become unraveled because of depression.

Minimizing The Effects Of The Cycle
The moment I felt my brain downshift I knew what was happening. My brain shifting cycles feels a certain way; in the same way that slamming your fingers in a door does. You don’t slam your fingers in a door and say “FUCK, MY FOOT!” You know it’s your fingers because that’s what hurts and the event occurred to your hand.

So I didn’t question it, I just started enacting my damage control plans for a depressive cycle. There is a period of time where the brain is in transit to where its new baseline is going to be for the duration of the cycle. During this period of time, you have a little time to try and keep it from getting out of hand. To slow and interrupt the decent; I did the following…

1. Wrapped up the conversation as soon as possible so I wouldn’t have to think about it. Adamantly shoved it out of my mind. Every time my thoughts would drift back to it, I would force myself to think of something else. I handled the little bit of time she wanted to discuss things; but when I felt the time was good I would shift the conversation away.

2. I immersed myself in activities that would take up my thought processes and not allow me to think about it. For me, that’s complicated video games and studying finance, economics, and liability law for my work and other projects. All of them are complicated as shit, all of them require a strong focus to make sense. This was complicated by my thought processes slowing down as the result of the depression; but shit happens. I dealt with it and stuck with the plan.

3. I stepped back from my mental health projects for a day. Didn’t want to think about the Disorder, my problems, or the problems of anyone else for about a day to give my brain time to reach its new baseline.

4. General conversation with some of the more positive, energetic people I know to let their energy help lessen my crash. It is absolutely true that your moods will feed on and reflect from the people around you. If you surround yourself with negative or depressive people; that’s where your brain is going to go. That doesn’t mean to sit around and dump your depression around; but general conversation with people who aren’t in the same dark place can help.

5. Music. Music helps me a lot. So I’ve been listening to a lot of upbeat, heavy, or speed type music that normally boosts my mood. If you sit around listening to dreary, depressing music; it will feed your depression and make it worse. And I assure you, I listened to that dark stuff plenty when I was less understanding of what my brain does when it’s being a pile of fucking shit.

I feel like using damage control for about a day after the triggering circumstance is long enough to let my brain hit its new baseline. Your mileage may vary.

In the past, a circumstance like this would have crashed me to about 1-2 with suicidal and self-harming thoughts. Nowadays, it’s more like a 3-4 which is depressed but not too morbid. Mostly just feeling null and void for however long the bullshit lasts.

Why Didn’t You Talk To Me?!
I know I’m going to get an earful from a handful of people when this runs. I’m not writing this post for myself. I’m writing this for people to see that I do still deal with my own shit. I’m writing it so normals can hopefully get a better idea of what’s going on in their loved one’s heads. I’m writing is so my Bipolar and Depressed readers can see that there are means to lessen the impact of unwell cycles if they learn their illness and how it affects them intimately.

This? This cycle is nothing compared to the morbid dregs of depression I used to dwell in.

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Depression

Of Robin Williams, Depression, And Suicide…

Robin WilliamsWell, it’s been about two weeks now since Robin decided to end his life. I talked to quite a few other Bipolar and Depressive people who hit a similar low on hearing about that. It was kind of weird because I didn’t feel any particular attachment to the guy in general. I thought he was funny and generally liked him in his stand up and movies; but didn’t even take any great strides to see anything he was in. I definitely could see and identify with his approach to dealing with depression; make other people laugh and focus on something else so you don’t have to think about it for awhile.

Reading the news was an instant depressive trigger. I felt my brain try to rocket into the pit but the antidepressants must be working to an extent. As I stated in my short update post, it was like someone took a tennis ball, hauled back and threw it as hard as they could downwards. It tried to drop out and just bounced off the floor, then dribbled a bit as it settled at a lower level than what I had been at. For the first couple of days, my brain just would not function correctly. In a depressive crash, the person’s brain may suffer slow down and lag; like being on a shitty internet connection. That’s where my brain was. Normally, I do a fair amount of writing about finance and law for clients; but at that point I was having a hard time just adding double digit numbers in my head.

I expressed this to my mother who asked if I was just feeling sympathy or sorrow. Being that my brain was being a sluggish piece of shit, I couldn’t articulate that a Bipolar crash or spike has its own feel. Mental illness is illness; symptoms and hints are there at what you’re experiencing or may experience. I know it was a depressive crash because a depressive crash only feels like a depressive crash. (Depressive crash.) It would be like slamming my fingers in a car door and someone asking, “Are you sure you didn’t stub your toe?” Yes, I am quite sure I didn’t stub my toe. Not only did I just slam my fingers in the door (a trigger, e.g. Robin’s suicide) but I have symptoms relating to that incident (symptoms; brain rapidly falls out which lasts for days, brain slows down and loses critical thinking capabilities, the void of depression sets in).

I have a bitch of a time articulating myself verbally during these times partly because my brain slows to a crawl and partly because, as a high-functioning autistic, I have a hard time converting my emotions and feelings verbally. But yeah- thanks for the Devil’s Advocacy either way! (Seriously, that sounds sarcastic but it’s not.)

There has been a ton of speculation about the reasons behind Robin’s suicide from mainstream media, mentally ill people, and mental health groups. As someone that is going on about a two decade war with Bipolar-Depression; I’ve seen several parallels between his struggles, actions, and how I view my own future 30 or 40 years down the road.

Was Robin Williams Bipolar?
So let’s address the elephant in the room. Was Robin Williams Bipolar (or Manic-Depressive)? Those of you that saw my initial post about the news, I mentioned that “another Bipolar kills themselves”. The memory I was drawing from was from when the comedian Jonathan Winters died. Winters was diagnosed Manic-Depressive (Type 1) and was a huge inspiration to Williams. I had thought I remembered Williams stating that he was such a big inspiration, not only for his comedy, but due to his own struggles with manic-depression. I now believe this to have been a confused memory on my behalf. I dug for the article but I simply couldn’t find it. So chances are pretty good my brain was just being a piece of shit, as it is wont to do.

Williams publicly stated on numerous occasions that he struggled with severe depression for most of his life. Bipolar bloggers point at his animated comedy and screen persona as evidence of mania. Initially, that was the thought I had as well until I recently went back and watched his stand up again.

The thing is, Williams always tried to have a personal life for him and his family away from the spotlight. What these folks are basing their assertions on is his public face. None of us act the same at work as we do in private. If we did, we’d be fired in no time for refusing to wear pants to work.

On going back and watching more of his work, I came to realize that no, it was not evidence of mania. Sure; he’s animated, fast, and outgoing. Williams struggled with cocaine addiction for a long time. Assuming he was (mostly) clean later in life, I think it’s extremely possible that he used to get high before hitting the stage as a young man and just hit his stride in the frenetic activity of a coke high while delivering. That frenetic energy became his stage persona even after he (mostly) quit drugs. In other words, the actor acted.

In watching his stand up, I can tell you exactly why it’s not a manic tirade. It’s too coherent. He flows smoothly through his set, the times he “forgets” things are convenient for his performance, like the “what the hell was I going to say moment” he has during his joke about marijuana. That, of course, got major laughs from the people who have smoked pot from the audience because we’ve all been there.

I vaguely remember getting high once when I was younger, opening my eyes and looking down to find a burrito in my hand. I don’t know where I got a burrito. We didn’t have anything in the apartment to make burritos. I must have walked down to the corner stand and bought one but hell if I could remember it. I do remember it being the best burrito I ever ate; which is normal stuff when you’re baked. Everything is ambrosia.

Therein is the problem with that assertion. All we have seen of this side of Williams is his stage persona. And his stage persona, while animated and outgoing, is too coherent and measured to be a manic tirade. Disjointed thoughts are a huge problem for manic people. They just don’t connect in a logical way and your brain is in overdrive; so you can start at Point A and end up at Destination Zebra Cthulhu “Wheres The Beef?”.

Bipolar? I don’t believe so based on the information I have available.

My Speculation
I mentioned parallels that I could see me reaching later in life. Robin’s wife announced shortly after the suicide that he was in the early stages of Parkinson’s. Now, I have a reader and a good friend who has Parkinson’s. It’s been a huge transition for her because she had to adjust from caretaker/giver to actually needing help from people. I’ve listened to her talk about her own feelings about it and what she saw in others when she was going to a support group for people with it. Really, it just went to further reinforce beliefs I’ve already held.

I’m not anxious to die, but I have no fear of death either. I have seven suicide attempts under my belt and due to the past 20 years or so of thinking about, envisioning, and dealing with those thoughts; I’ve just become numb to it.

What am I afraid of?

I’m afraid that there will come a point I can no longer critically think. I’m afraid that I will wind up with a degenerative disease, be a burden on the people that love me more than I already have been, and will lose myself in the process. Robin’s suicide came as a shock, but the announcement that he was dealing with the early stages of Parkinson’s dispelled the shock and put everything into a crystal clear focus in my mind.

If I’m a 63 year old severely mentally ill man still struggling with drug addiction who is now faced with a massively degenerative disease; my choice would be suicide too.

But I don’t think this was a long, calculated plan from Robin. No, I think these thoughts had been bouncing around in his head for awhile and manifested at a moment of severe weakness. I base that speculation on the method of death- superficial wrist cuts with a pocket knife and hanging himself with a belt. It seems more likely to me that if he had made the choice in a stable state of mind, he probably would have had a bit better preparation; such as buying a length of rope. The public evidence suggests a heat of the moment decision to me.

I think the reason this hit me so hard was because I looked at Robin Williams and I saw myself. I don’t walk his road, but I walk a parallel road of my own with many similar sign posts.

The great tragedy in all of this is our attitude towards death in general. Would it not have been better for him to be able to talk to a counselor about his fears and prognosis with the option of assisted suicide after undergoing evaluation?

I get it. We don’t want to think about our loved ones dying or even wanting to die. Death is a source of confusion, pain, and fear for many. But it’s not like wasting away, confined to a bed for the next ten years is any kind of solution. If I wind up with dementia or Alzheimer’s; I don’t need my family dragging their asses to the home to visit me when I have no idea who the hell they are and the entire situation is just painful. Don’t keep me alive on life support while my brain is dead and I’m locked in a semi-permanent coma. Don’t leave me alone and vulnerable with people I don’t know in a place I’m not familiar with.

And sure as hell don’t tell me I don’t want to die after DECADES of dealing with thoughts of death when all that is ahead of me is degeneration of my body, plus the mental illness, plus whatever complications may arise.

Remember me as a relatively whole person, not a shell or shadow of what I used to be.

My wish for Robin is not that he should not have committed suicide if he was in a stable mind to make that decision. My wish is that he should have been able to face it with dignity so his loved ones did not have to find this tortured, kind, warm soul hanging from his own belt, wrists slit with his own pocket knife.

A bit of disclaimer: Understand that the previous is my opinion of how I would want to be treated. My father faithfully visits his mother with Alzheimer’s in a home. My mother worked to take care of her grandmother and her mother as they got older. And my Parkinson’s friend; I know it’s been an impossibly tough transition for you. I’d do what I could for the people I love and care about, but I doubt I could do it nearly as well because I require so much mental management of my own to stay out of the pit and continue to get this life of mine pointed in the right direction.

This is also not a suggestion that suicide is a solution. If you’re having suicidal or self-destructive thoughts, get help. 1-800-273-8255 (for America). Suicide is a very permanent solution to an oftentimes temporary, treatable problem.

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Categories
Depression General Self-Help

Musing on Death and Mood Disorders

November has typically been a triggering month for me in the past. My birthday, my son’s birthday, and a couple of other important birthdays. This year was different though. At 6 AM November 17th, on my birthday, my grandmother Shirley passed away- likely to do with the treatment related to her kidney failure- but we’re not entirely sure. I would say I was as close to my grandmother as I could possibly be to a relative. I spent half my life living directly across the street from her. So she was not someone I just saw off and on.

Now, I’ve known for a real long time that my emotional processes are WAY different than most. When I’ve tried to explain this to others, I would often hear “well, wait until you lose someone close to you”. Well, now that I have…I can safely say that I was right and it didn’t make much difference. Yes, I felt bad for the loss of my Grandma Shirley. I felt worse because I didn’t feel as bad as I thought I should have. I fucking hate that.

As in many situations, I often use humor to get through dark, difficult, or tragic things. I know there were a few times during calling hours and around the funeral services I made people who were crying laugh. I know there was one point I could not stop snickering because I had been watching the Walking Dead and “you have to destroy the brain to keep them from coming back!” kept popping in my head. Or that older episode of South Park when the boys put a stick up the butt of Kyle’s grandmother’s corpse to use her as a puppet to scare some kids that were picking on them at Halloween. Or even going the intellectual route- burying her with a brick in her mouth which was a medieval practice to prevent vampires from rising. It would confuse the hell out of archaeologists in a couple hundred years. “They still believed in vampires in the 21st century?!” Also hilarious- to me anyway.

But I did what I learned to do a long time ago and KEPT MY MOUTH SHUT…mostly.

And that’s where the mental illness and differences really start to come into play. On the one hand, I’m Bipolar with a severe depression component. I’d say 80% of my cycles are of depression including my baseline mood. I’m sure it’s the reason that I haven’t cried due to emotional pain in several years. I really have no idea how long it’s been but I know it’s been a fucking long time. And then there is the autistic side of my brain. I often tell people I’m logical to a fault but they usually think I’m being coy.

So while we were at calling hours and the services; I heard on more than a few occasions how unexpected her passing was. I get that she was doing and getting better up until the day she died; but she was an 88 year old woman battling kidney failure. I don’t think it should have been that surprising to anyone. But my brain is a defective piece of shit so I knew that thought process was mostly my own and probably the result of the “logical to a fault” processes that rattle around in there.

And then calling hours and funerals are strange in general. “Do you want to say goodbye to your grandma?” “Do you want to see your grandma?” Yeah, I stepped forward; mostly for the benefit of my mother.

But really- that just wasn’t my grandmother. My grandmother was a lively, energetic woman who loved mowing her grass with her tractor, laughing, and periodically calling me shithead if I was picking on her too much. This was the same woman I had a 20 year argument with about her not giving me money to come over to her house and help her with things. As I finally revealed to my mother, I eventually figured out it was just easier to take the money and put it back in her purse when she wasn’t looking! Saved quite a bit of arguing. And wouldn’t you know my grandmother had given my mother birthday money for me just before she passed? I took it as excellent timing on her part- a final, stubborn “HA! I WIN!” from my grandmother.

That figure in that casket was not my grandmother. It was just a corpse; a shell, a vessel for the spirited, wonderful woman who often managed to frustrate and love me equally at times. And that is exactly why I will be cremated and dumped out somewhere. Or- I think it would also be funny to piece my body out into like five sections and have them buried in completely different states just to screw with future generations trying to do genealogical research. That is also acceptable.

Anyway, this vessel is nothing without my active intellect, my heart, and my soul. If those things are gone then it ceases to be me. That goes if I’m in a vegetative state too. If I can’t think, then I might as well be dead. To borrow a joke from Chris Titus, “And don’t pull the plug and let me die slow and horrible. You duct tape my ass to a motorcycle and jump me over Snake River Canyon to break Evel Knievel’s record. Film it and release DVDs to help support my family. I want to be brain-dead over Snake River Canyon!”

And of course, funerals are mostly for the living rather than the dead. “I’m sure Shirley will be with you.” “I’m sure she’s watching over you.”

Man I hope not. I really don’t want my grandmother to know what kind of porn I watch or how often I just hang out pantsless. That’s not cool. How fucking boring would that be? You die, there turns out to be an afterlife, and you get stuck here? Look; I love my family and have plenty of people in my life I care about…but if there is an afterlife my fat ass isn’t hanging around here. I want to see shit, learn shit, delve into whatever I can possibly explore. And possibly vacation here to haunt my brother because fuck that guy!

I’m not religious for numerous reasons that I’m not going to tirade about here; but I hope my grandmother was able to move on to the Heaven she desired. I know she missed my grandfather who passed awhile back and had many friends she would probably want to see again. I’m sure she would want to watch over her daughter- my mother.

It’s strange how many things wind up being a double-edged sword. The fact that I am so muted to emotional circumstances most of the time makes it really easy for me to deal with emotional people whether they are enraged or deeply sad. But on the other hand, you have situations like my grandmother’s death where I wasn’t able to shed tears for someone I was close to.

Ah well. I hope my grandmother found what she was looking for out of her afterlife; if any. She was a great woman and I was lucky to have her in my life as I did. Maybe I’ll see her again, maybe I won’t. Time will tell.

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Categories
Depression Hypomania

Bipolar Perception And Its Impact On Relationships

Perceiving the world through the eyes of a Bipolar person is a difficult thing to do for those with typical minds. This is especially problematic for the people who love or are friends with a Bipolar person. The question I hear most often from these folks is, “How can my loved one do such horrible things to me when they claim to love or care about me?”

Let’s explore that conundrum. Bear in mind I’m using the following example in an extreme to hopefully drive the point home. Many of us Bipolars usually float around in middle ranges unless we’re severely unwell.

Sarah and Jack are a married couple. Sarah is Bipolar. The two share a healthy, loving, attentive relationship while she is well. She loves Jack with all of her heart. A Bipolar unwell period warps the perception of Sarah. Her mind starts feeding her misinformation about the world and her life around her.

Her mind starts picking apart everything Jack does. Did he spend too long smiling at a waitress? He wants to sleep with her. Did he answer a wrong number late at night? It was the woman from work that he’s sleeping with. Late coming home from work? I knew he was sleeping with her!

The longer Sarah is unwell, the more her mind will play with these thoughts and feelings; spinning them out of proportion. Then her mind may start dredging up all of the other things from her life with Jack that didn’t go as planned. Didn’t get to finish college? Jack’s fault. Miscarriage? Jack’s fault. Work a job that she hates? Jack’s fault.

Most likely this will culminate and explode. Sarah will get into a huge fight with Jack or find some other way to lash out at him for all these wrongs that her unwell mind convinced her that he is responsible for. Now comes the verbal barbs and possibly worse. “I hate you. You’re horrible. You’re worthless. I wish I had never met you.” and liberally lace it with profanity.

This is the point that many people get wrong. They ask, “If my loved one knew they hurt me, why wouldn’t they apologize?” Because they haven’t rebalanced yet or they don’t know what to say.

When was the last time you apologized to someone you hated? At this point in time, Sarah hates Jack because her brain has fed her lies and twisted her perception about the way their life has been. She doesn’t love him right now and may take it out on him in a number of ways- a revenge affair for his “infidelity”, physical and verbal abuse, or whatever her mind may cook up.

An unwell mind will normalize eventually. She will return to her baseline and be just as in love with Jack as she always was, except now- she has this laundry list of whatever horrible things she’s said and done to him while she was severely unwell. And at this point, most of us Bipolars will be watching the ashes of yet another important thing in our lives slip through our fingers. A number of us will go silent on the matter if we don’t understand our illness very well because what can you really say? What could possibly make up for those horrible actions? “I’m sorry” is often a pale shadow compared to the wound.

That does not mean that this is how things have to go- it’s just the way they normally go because people don’t educate themselves enough on the Disorder and how to manage it.

If you are Bipolar- you need to learn to identify the indicators that you’re getting unwell. Bipolar Disorder is a mental illness; as an illness there are symptoms that signify when you are getting sick. When you are getting sick, you can then begin to pay more attention to your own thought processes to rationalize your way through them. Almost all of the above examples could have been derailed if Sarah had realized she was getting unbalanced and stopped to really examine what she was thinking. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, you won’t always get it right. But you can prevent a whole lot of damage by being critical of your own thoughts if you identify that you may be getting unwell.

If you can, look into Cognitive Therapy. A therapist can help you learn and refine these skills. You will have to work hard to learn how to manage and defuse these thoughts but it is a skill-set that you’ll use the rest of your life. You either own Bipolar Disorder or it owns you- there is no in-between.

If you are a friend/loved one- you need to know you and your limits very well. The Bipolar person in your life will probably push them and walk all over them. Being called obscenities by someone that is normally loving can be a shock; but ultimately they are just a couple of words. Keep an eye out for drastic changes in behavior. A big change in sleep patterns is a very common indicator. Any major change in moods or personal habits could be indicative of an unwell swing.

And that leads me to communication and trust. The Bipolar person needs to be able to accept that they are Bipolar, they will have drastic mood swings, and they need to be able to communicate with their loved one if they are getting sick. The well person in the relationship needs to feel comfortable with bringing up that they think the other may be getting unwell. You can learn to read and identify your partner’s symptoms. Communication can prevent a lot of needless hurt stemming from unwell thought processes because the well partner can introduce facts and reality that the unwell partner desperately needs.

Loving someone with a mood disorder isn’t always pleasant. Never take on more than you are able to. Each person has their own lines and limits that they know can’t be crossed. It’s not unreasonable to expect the Bipolar in your life to work to minimize the damage the Disorder does. Just be aware that they will probably fail horribly at it from time to time. We all do. But- the Disorder can be managed and you can have a fairly normal relationship/friendship with the person. Every relationship has challenges, ours are just a bit different than typical.

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