Bipolar

I started this blog four years ago! Yep, it’s been four years. Four years since my last psychotic episode that landed me in the hospital. Four years since in a manic frenzy I started this blog hoping to make a difference. Four years since my husband was truly educated as to what it would be like if I ever had another psychotic episode.

I wanted to centralize this blog on what it is like to be bipolar. I don’t know if I managed that. At times, I guess I do, but other times, I just mumble about what my life has been like at the time. A part of me thinks that that is my point. I’m what society would dub a normal mid-westerner, who happens to be bipolar. I think. LOL! My bipolar disorder has been (for the most part) under control since I went psychotic four years ago.

WTF! Who am I kidding! I’ve had my highs and my lows, but nothing too dramatic. I’m on a lower dive right now because I’m worried about my sister, but I was pretty high last Friday when I finished writing my first draft of my novel.

But who cares? Really? No one really reaches out to me on here and I don’t reach out to others either. (Stephanie–you cool!)

I don’t know what is wrong with me!

img_2103.jpgI wish I’d get an answer about whether I should reveal my name on here.

I’m going to explode. LOL! Just joking. I liked the picture and thought it represented my mood today.

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

award-very-inspirational-bloggerWHOOHOO!

Thank you Kevin from  http://voicesofglass.com/ for surprising me with the “Very Inspiring Blogger Award.” I am very honored.

The following are the rules for this award, so that everyone can understand what I’m doing with this post.

1. Display the Award Certificate on your website.

2. Announce your win with a post and link to whoever presented your award.

3. Present 15 awards to deserving bloggers (I’m going to be working on that.)

4. Drop them a comment to tip them off after you’ve linked them in the post.

5. Post 7 interesting things about yourself.

 

Now since the rules are explained, I’m now going to give you 7 interesting things about me. (I hope.)

1. I was diagnosed as bipolar I with psychotic tendencies in 1999 due to the surprising onset of my first and, soon to follow, second psychotic episode.

2. I have only had 3 psychotic episodes.

First time: Dec. 1999 when I told my Oral Communications class off during finals and told them we needed to prepare for a racial war to hit U.S. soil. I thought I was God’s messenger.

Second time: Feb. 2000 when I wasn’t totally healed, tried to go back to college, and thought the television was talking to me

Third time: Sept. 2009 when I went off Lithium and Abilify to try to have a baby and only was on Lamictal during those six months. I convinced myself that I needed to become a martyr to help bipolar people in this world not have to suffer from Stigma anymore. Let’s just say that didn’t work. Never did get pregnant either. 😦

3. I’m a twin.

4. I taught high school English for three years.

5. I’m heavily involved in the Lions Club.

6. I love writing, but have never finished a book or published anything. This blog is as far as I’ve gotten.

7. Ummm…. I’m very close to my family. We mostly all work and own a company together.

 

Okay, so I hope these facts about me were interesting to you . Thank you Kevin for your support.

Best Wishes to all!

Duals

 

The Concrete Wall

It’s taking me a while to get up the nerve to write all that I’m feeling right now done. I’ve decided to just stop and write. Writing has always been a comfort to me, so now I’m going to grasp it. I’ve had a huge scare that I don’t know the result of yet, so I’m still in the tumultuous throws of panic. I’m trying to tell myself that the possible news may be no big deal, but…

For those of you that don’t know me, I work for my parents in a company they have had since I was six years old. I’ve grown up helping and/or working here for most of my life. Even when I was teaching, I was working overtime with them to help out. I’ve never been able to step away, but when times got tough, I did. Last September to December, I was unemployed for the first time in my life. I looked hard for a new job, but found nothing. However, I was called back to work for my parents due to their need for me to get things moving again. I swear they did practically nothing while I was gone. So I’ve been trying to get things back on track with the company, but my father still has to control everything. It drives me nuts, but I’m use to it. The company is completely controlled by my father, but the terrible news I’m waiting for is about his health. This company cannot run without him. My parents are highly reactive, which has sent me to the “looney bin” before because of their unwillingness to deal with issues….LITERALLY!!! I want to be proactive. I want to form a plan that can fix the issue of the company being so highly tied to my father, but when he doesn’t want to give up the reigns and work with people, it won’t happen. I feel like I’m banging my head into a concrete wall over and over again!

Well, that’s one issue I’m dealing with right now. The other is ME. I undervalue myself, I guess. 🙂  According to my therapist, I am as reactive as my parents…which is true. I want to be proactive, but I wait for others to tell me what to do with my life. TOTALLLLY TRUE!!!! God DAMN! It’s so second nature that I don’t realize I’m doing it. I’m always….”I gotta ask…” instead of “I’m going to do this whether you like it or not, because I matter.” I’ve put my life on hold. I have no career because of the family business. I am highly active in a service organization that has nothing to do with MY passion in life because I want to make my HUSBAND happy. I do a lot for my siblings because it’s expected. I live my life according to what other expect from me, instead of doing what I love. I want to write a novel about mental illness, but I put it away because I’m so busy with everything else in my life. I want to help people so badly fight this terrible stigma against those with mental illness and bipolar disorder, but I hide behind this blog as my outlet instead of really becoming active in something. unfortunately, I have tried to be more active, but that goes no where in a hurry because of the other service organization comes first. This all has come to the forefront because of my therapist. I had not realized I was so depressed and emotional until she showed me I was so worried about everyone else and not about myself. I would have gone on for the rest of my life like this if she didn’t point out to me that my psychotic episode in Sept. ’09 should have been a huge wake up call. Problem is…it was for me, but everyone else around me doesn’t give a damn. This blog for instance…..Everyone knows about it, but they don’t read it. I could tell deep dark secrets about my loved ones on here, but they would never know that the world of strangers now knows or can access it. UGH!!! It is so frustrating. For those of you that do read this, thank you, but unless you comment, I feel like I’m still banging my head against a concrete wall. Utterly pointless. I think that’s why I’m not really on here anymore. I feel like I don’t make a difference in anyone’s life. That I don’t matter. That people out there have already stopped reading by this point because I’ve been rambling way to much and they don’t give two shits about me. Just like my family.

Sorry, Stephanie (mybipolarlife)…I know you do care.

Dying to Help People

I’ve told you before that my psychiatrists and therapists have told me that even my bipolar disorder is abnormal because I maintain a certain level of control and awareness even when I’m psychotic. Well, now I understand it a lot better after reading a section in Hilary Smith’s “Welcome to the Jungle.”

In chapter two, she talks about insight during psychosis…”insight means the ability to recognize when your behavior and thought patterns are coming from your mental illness as opposed to your regular self.” There are three levels: totally unaware, in and out with knowing but still insisting you are right, and aware no one understands what you are experiencing.

Wow, now this is starting to make more sense to me. Near the beginning of my last manic to psychotic episode, I was reliving my past because I wanted to write a book about my experinces with bipolar disorder. Well, I was obviously hypomanic for a long time while I was going through a med change. I started seeing my therapist and busted out in tears when she asked me about my first hospitalization. I went through all the stages of grief again in her office, so at the end she explained I was most likely suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My first hospitalization was that horrible.

My hypomania was fueled when I delved into my research again about PTSD instead of just bipolar disorder. I stepped onto a rocket ship and watched myself soar. In less than a weeks time, I stopped being able to easily fall asleep and my sleep was heavily interrupted. I called my psychiatrist to tell her that I was having problems, but the immediate change of medication did not help. After one night of absolutely no sleep, I believed I had to subject myself to the hospitalization system again to overcome my PTSD.

Okay, so that sounds reasonable right? Well, the psychosis was setting in at an alarming rate because when my husband woke up that morning, I also felt I had to become a martyr, so that no one else with bipolar disorder ever had to go through the hell I went through when I was first diagnosed. I honestly thought I had to die to help people.

Because I was facing my fears of hospitalization, I literally could feel my control disappearing faster and faster. My speech and thought processes were so fast, people had a hard time understanding me. My adrenaline was pumping. Thank God for my husband because he literally had to translate what I was saying to the doctors because I was mixing my present situation with what happened to me when I was first diagnosed. My insight was still there as I tried to express my thoughts. I knew I needed help right away before it could get any worse.

Problem #1: What is this bullshit about not medicating me right away to knock me out so I could sleep? Sleep is the biggest help when you are suffering from a psychotic episode. The longer I was awake, the more restless, psychotic, detached, angry, nervous, paranoid, violent, etc. I became. I don’t give a damn that it takes so long to do the paper work, arrange for a bed, see your actual psychiatrist who will treat you while you are in the hospital. There is no excuse why I went until seven o’clock that night before they had to give me a large syringe of a sedative to put me out. My adrenaline and mania were at such an extreme level that the lights burned my eyes and the lightest touch felt like knives sticking into me. It didn’t make sense that I had to wait from seven that morning to seven that night to get the help I needed to sleep.

Well, I could tell you all the other problems I experienced this time around again, but in reality it was a lot better than the first time I was hospitalized. I learned a lot about myself and the disorder. I’m also learning a lot from Hilary’s book, so I’ll keep reading it and let you know. I suspect she might not have been hospitalized before though. She talks about hospitalization very negatively, which I don’t agree. I believe that the “theory” of it can be very important for some people to experience as long as the patient is open to the help. Before this last hospitalization, I would have never said that. Now, the pain I experienced in 1999 is healing because of going through the trauma all over again in 2009. Hospital procedures still have a long way to go before they treat us like humans though. We need to do something about that.

Please comment about your experiences.

Duals

A College Life for Me

collegeFor those who want to obtain a college degree, it can be very difficult. I do have a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and a Secondary Teaching Certification, which I’m learning is a phenomenal achievement. I even graduated with a 3.67 GPA and managed to teach for 3 years.

Why is my story so different than most others with Bipolar Disorder?

Well, first you will have to hear my story to learn the answers.

For those of you that don’t know, I’m a twin. I’ve always been left behind in my twin sister’s shadow. She was the more renowned overachiever that teachers would remember, and I was always thought of as the “sister.” She even was known to be a better writer because she was working for the local newspaper and I was layout editor and writer for our school yearbook. When we went our separate ways for college, she went to the prestigious university and I went to the local university. I was determined to prove myself by getting a better GPA than her this time at least.

During the weekend before my fall semester sophomore finals, I had no idea I was already bouncing between hypomania and mania. I barely knew what bipolar disorder was, let alone that I was bipolar. I was very irritable and angry with the world that Friday night, got drunk on a lot of vodka, became verbally violent to my best friend which all led to my desertion. Alone in my apartment, I became severely depressed for about two hours, contemplated suicide for the first time, then suddenly I was God’s messenger, wrote non-stop, and went to my first final telling the whole class off and wanting them to help stop the impending racial world war and that Y2K would start the beginning of the end.

I was definitely crazy and tried to announce it to the world.

Even though the way I received the much needed help was traumatic for me, I clung to my diagnosis like a life raft in a turbulent ocean. I was terrified of that side of me. At least, I could take medicine to keep it away. I feared I was never going to achieve my dreams. I even felt a deep loss when I realized that I could never be the first female President of the United States…. I never said I wasn’t ambitious, but before that moment I never wanted to be President. I just wanted to be prestigious and be known for doing something to make the world a better place.

Well, I obviously missed finals, but I fully intended to return to college for spring semester. I was taking my meds and seeing and listening to my psychiatrist regularly, so I was doing all I needed to, right? When spring semester began, I made up my finals quickly. I began to form a personal hatred and insecurity for the campus and my apartment because I could not stop remembering what had happened to me, so I commuted from home. I was going to make sure I had the support I needed.

When the depressive side tipped down the teeter tauter, my psychosis slammed back with the help of lithium toxicity and antidepressants. I was flying high again but stayed home instead of going to school until it really became bad. When the television started talking to me, I packed up the van and went back for a second hospital stay. I medically withdrew from my classes and stayed home. I even worked for my parents.  For a while, I thought I was living the rest of my life. Nothing for me was ever going to change. I’d be indebted to my parents and never leave home.

As the months went by, I recovered quite well and my psychiatrist believed I could handle going back to school. I decided not to hide being bipolar and went back to use my experience as topics for my stories, poetry, and papers. After a long discussion with my father, I veered away from having a career in writing and decided to get in the teaching program. He wanted a more “stable” career for me because my writing was “obviously” a trigger for my psychosis, so I devoted my efforts to become a good teacher for my students.

I finished college in five years with extra credits to spare, so I finished a year after my twin sister. She was in medical school and I was joining the work force as an English teacher. After some advice from my teaching advisors, I kept my disorder a secret from anyone who didn’t already know. However, the hardships of my third year of teaching allowed me to realize being bipolar and a teacher isn’t a good combination. For me, teaching at the school district I was in was too demanding and almost expected a more hypomanic attitude from me than I was willing to give. 145 high school students are too much for any “normal” English teacher, let alone one who is bipolar.

Okay, so let’s be a little clearer. These are the points I’m trying to make from the story of my life so far:

  1. Determination and ambition will get you through your highs and lows. If it is hard for you, having someone to drive you forward and show compassion will also help you on your road to success in getting your degree.
  2. Learn more about how you respond to medication to find the right combination for you and stay on your medication.
  3. Avoid alcohol and drugs.
  4. Find a medical support group and a hospital psychiatric ward you like and trust.
  5. Depend on your personal support system like family and friends.
  6. Learn time management.
  7. Learn about yourself and your disorder. This lesson I didn’t learn until my last year of teaching when I finally found a good psychiatrist that I never knew I was missing.

A very good article that relates and may be very beneficial for those who are bipolar interested in going to college is “Back to School with Bipolar? How College can Unleash Mania” by Michele Hoos from Health.com.

For seven years, I never realized I was flying solo in tumultuous weather with the experience of a novice. I didn’t know nearly enough about bipolar disorder, so now I’ve learned a lot. I’m even able to look back and gauge my thoughts and experiences to see that I’m not your typical bipolar.

Please comment and read the comments below! William made excellent comments that you really should read. 🙂 Thank you William!

When was My Onset of Bipolar Disorder?

little girlsWhen did you learn you were bipolar? How long do you think you had it before it became obvious enough for a diagnosis? This has been a recurring question that I’ve been asked lately, so I’ve given it a lot of thought. Here are my conclusions.

My whole memorable life.

I know it sounds silly, but I really do think I have showed signs of it since I was a very little girl. I can’t pinpoint the traumatic experience that brought it on, unless being separated from my twin sister on my first day of kindergarten is proof enough for a traumatic experience. It is one of my very first memories of seriously being upset to the very depth of my soul.

I just know how I behave, feel, react, think, learn, and interact with society have little to no difference in its fluctuations, its intensities, and its dualities since I was five years old.

I guess I should be clearer.

  • My anger would flip to extreme intensity. Yelling, screaming, and fighting were natural for me.
  • My excitement was always extreme. I would become extremely hyper and run around overjoyed when it was just something like a birthday.
  • My moods were volatile. I could sleep forever or stay up all night and be fine the next day with little to no sleep.

I was largely an introvert in elementary school and fell into depression spurts during sixth and seventh grade. I would take naps after school because it was so exhausting. I remember feeling hollow and lonely, but never suicidal. I don’t think my depression ever went that deep. I started to read young adult novels near the end of that time period and switched from depression to manic and book thirsty reader.

Eighth grade was a manic/hypomanic year. I started to make friends outside of just my sisters, and I began to have a lot of fun. Freshman year, I started writing my first novel. I stopped after 140 pages because it wasn’t making sense near the end. Hmmmm….

Sophomore year, I joined the yearbook class and became even more social. I went to a lot of school functions as photographer and reporter. However, junior and senior year, I fluctuated from mania to depression and back. There are so many examples those two years, but two regrets I have because of the mood fluctuations are the following:

  1. Mania prevented me from taking the time to apply to my favorite university, so I ended up missing the application deadline.
  2.  Depression weighed on me when I signed up for my senior classes. I dropped yearbook because I was going to be Editor-in-Chief that year, but my beloved advisor was stepping down and a new inexperienced advisor was taking her place. I was going to have to show her the ropes, so I decided to try to enjoy my senior year instead of work my butt off.

I didn’t go into journalism in college mainly because of that one decision. Now, I realize journalism was the one thing I thoroughly enjoyed in high school. I still can’t fathom why I chose to be a high school English teacher instead.

So here I am. Bipolar for life. Diagnosed bipolar I at the age of 19. I received the help I needed during finals week of my sophomore year in college when I became psychotic for the first time.

When did I become bipolar? I have always been. It just took me this long to figure this all out. I always thought it was when I was 19, but that was just my first psychotic break. I never understood how to recognize the difference between a manic episode and a psychotic episode for me until now. I always thought I became psychotic when I was manic, which is not the case. I’ve become better in tune with my disorder because of all my research I’ve done on bipolar disorder.

When was your diagnosis of bipolar disorder? When was your onset of bipolar disorder? Why, if at all, are they different?

Greg House Versus the System

House TV seriesWatching last night’s House two hour season premiere allowed me to see from an outside perspective what it was like to be admitted into the psychiatric hospital. I felt the show depicted a realistic perspective of what hospitalization can be like for the most part.

One aspect I did love about the show is that it did highlight some of the problems with our mental health care system. It showed the clinical therapist trying to help the delusional man by taunting him to move a 500 pound piano and yelling at the delusional man that he couldn’t save the catatonic woman just like he couldn’t save his dead wife. That I thought was too harsh and over the line, but I’ve seen some therapists and psychiatrists do just that. They think smacking someone with reality will help them more. Unfortunately, House takes the extreme opposite view and escapes with the delusional man to a carnival where they both have a great time “flying” in a wind tunnel machine and testing their strengths until the delusional man decides he can still fly and jumps off the ledge of the parking garage in the hospital. (He might have just wanted to commit suicide right then instead of flying…my depiction is slightly unclear.)

Which was better: House fueling his delusions and giving him one of the best days of his life which led to the man getting physically hurt or the therapist forcing him to confront reality?

I firmly believe they were both wrong. The delusional man was still a threat to himself or to others, so shouldn’t have been taken out of the ward, but House did not treat the man entirely in a patronizing way. I know, hard to believe, right?  However, the therapist was cruel, harsh, and patronizing, but he didn’t pretend with him either.

So what is the right way?

Well, thank you for asking me to answer, since I’ve been known to become delusional at times, so I have the inside scoop on how we think in that type of situation.   🙂

Okay, well I need to clarify myself here a little and give you some more background information about me. Many people, including my therapist, believe my intuitive senses about myself are very unusual and extremely accurate. I am able to identify my mood swings and get the help I need before my manic episodes and psychosis go too far faster than even people who are observing me can do the same. This is not “normal.” Most people with bipolar disorder lose control once they reach the manic state. I, on the other hand, can still control or be controlled in certain circumstances even while beginning psychosis.

I’m basically trying to tell you that I might be very beneficial in answering this main question because I have been there and knew what would have helped me when I was in that situation. Remember, the question is the following:

                What is the right way to treat a person who is delusional and manic?

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor. This is just my opinion. I am not claiming to know how to help Schizophrenics because I do not have that diagnosis.

1.)    Be honest and open with them when they ask you a question.

2.)    Do not take a long time to act in getting them the help they need. “Patience is a virtue they know not of.”

3.)    Do not treat them like a criminal. Have an ambulance take them to the hospital.

4.)    Do not threaten them in any way.

5.)    Be kind and courteous, but firm in your resolve. Do not patronize.

6.)    Find out their history by contacting loved ones by checking their phone or personal items for “In Case of Emergency (ICE).” If you are just a friend, that’s great because you are not restricted by law to get the patient to sign a consent form to contact others about their medical history. Call their contacts immediately.  It could be your friend’s life on the line. They will know what medications help them the best or the person’s history of violence or suicide.  

7.)    Do not try to reason with them harshly at that time. Don’t disagree or agree with their delusions. Just try to calm them down by reasoning with their resolve and negotiate with them. If they are willing to compromise with you, then you are lucky.

8.)    Do give them your opinion on the subject. Their mind is working overtime, so you bringing up another point to their inner debate may mean them their life.

9.)    Once in the hospital, trained professionals should be able to take it from there, but I do have to stress the word “should.” I’ve been hospitalized three times now within a ten year span of time and the system is still messed up. Hence, the reason I am writing this blog.

10.) Remember this phrase I am going to preach until I turn blue: “Perception is reality, until reality changes perception.” This phrase means for me that everyone’s collection of perceptions make up their reality, so it is “reality’s” job to change someone’s misguided perceptions not you. It takes medicine, doctors, therapy, relationships, and drive for someone to truly get better (and unfortunately money because of the screwed up healthcare system which still doesn’t look that much better for us even with the plan that is on the table right now).