Tell or Not Results

Hey, y'all--
Well, it seems that there is pretty much evenly divided opinion on whether to tell people you have bipolar or not. Some have experienced misunderstanding and stigma, while others have experienced the opposite, and feel they have had a part in educating people about the disorder. I guess I feel I am in the latter category, however difficult that category is.

Y'all know I have been on that date line. Well, inevitably, I get asked what I do. I thought about just saying I am on disability, or that I am a stay-at-home single mom, or something like that, and leaving it at that. I know that telling people we have bipolar is a personal choice. But as some of you pointed out, it can be good to get it out in the open right away, and I decided to test that theory on this date line, figuring I had nothing to lose but a phone call's worth of time.

When asked what I do, I tell someone I am a writer. They usually say, "Oh, what type of writing do you do?" I answer, "I write for a website on the internet." If they say, "That's interesting," or something along those lines, and leave it at that, fine. But if they continue that line of questioning (serves them right! LOL), I will say, "I write for a website for people with bipolar disorder," which, of course, leads to disclosing the fact that I have it myself. At that point, I have found, I either get a short or a long pause in the conversation, and I can sort of tell the degree of knowledge the person has of bipolar, the degree of stigma, the degree of understanding or misunderstanding. But I've got to tell y'all, at least in my limited experience over the past several weeks--even with those who know nothing about bipolar, they are willing to listen to me tell them about it, without seeming to judge me.

However, I will concede two points. Number one: These are virtual strangers, who have nothing invested in me emotionally, and have no past experience with bipolar, so they have no prejudice from having had to go through a bad manic episode with someone. Number two: These are single men who, admittedly, are lonely and/or desperate and are trying to get to the point where they can ask me out for a date, so I would guess they would play the understanding card even if I said I were some green monster from outer space, as long as I said I had dark hair, dark eyes, was about five foot tall, and wore a size 8! LOL

Anyway, the main point is, telling people we have bipolar or not is still a personal choice, as is when to tell them. It's unfortunate that we survivors have to be the primary source of educating the public about the disorder, but we can hope that other sources will catch up eventually, can't we? Although the wait can be frustrating as well. Sometimes I do get frustrated with people who have no knowledge of bipolar, or of mental illness in general, and react to me as if they could "catch it" like a cold, don't you?

New Articles Posted

Hey, y'all--

Just wanted to tell you that my new articles are posted at bipolarcentral.com, so let me know what you think!

Michele

TO TELL OR NOT TO TELL

Hey, y'all--
I need some help. I'm trying to write an article on when or if to tell people you have bipolar disorder, and I can't find any information at all out there on this subject (which, of course, tells me that I really need to write an article on it!). So I need feedback from y'all, and lots of it.

Please share your opinions on whether you think we should tell people we have bipolar or not.

For those who chose (or choose) not to tell people, why not? For those who think we should, when do you think is the right time to tell people?

Also, please share your experiences with what happened when you did tell people. How did you tell them? What did you say? How did they react? etc.

Thanks so much for your help.

Everyday Miracles

Sometimes I get so focused on the negatives in life, the downside that BP so easily surrounds me with, that I forget to "Stop and smell the roses"--to appreciate the everyday miracles that I take for granted. For instances, it is a miracle that I am even alive today. I lived a very self-destructive lifestyle all those years before I was diagnosed with bipolar. I self-medicated with alcohol and drugs, overdosing and yet surviving. That is a miracle. Several times I tried to commit suicide and yet survived. That is a miracle. I was told at 17 yrs old that I would never be able to have children. I have given birth to 3 healthy, wonderful sons. They are all miracles.

But there are also everyday miracles--those things we overlook on a daily basis. I don't believe in coincidences. I believe that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes in big ways, sometimes in small ways. If we pay attention. If we look for them.

Today my everyday miracle was this: I've been needing a new vacuum cleaner (desperately!) since mine broke, but could not afford the new one at Wal-Mart, cheapest one being $70. So, being the yard sale addict that I am anyway, this brought reason to my weekly quest. However, part of my depression has been because of financial stress, and I had very little money with which to buy a vacuum cleaner. And I do mean very little money. Ok, ready for the punchline? I found a Eureka vacuum cleaner, in almost new condition, works perfectly, for FIVE DOLLARS!!! Now, tell me *that* isn't a miracle!

One of the ways to notice and record everyday miracles is to write a Gratitude List. List everything that comes to mind that you are grateful for that day. Start brainstorming, and you will be amazed how quickly your list will grow, from big things to small things, and you will find your spirits lifted as well. This is one of the best ways to battle the depressed side of bipolar.

Today I am not only grateful for my life and my healthy children, but I am also grateful for the birds singing outside my window, and for finding a $5 vacuum cleaner!

Friends to Friends

Hey, y'all--

I just wanted to thank everyone for being so supportive during my recent depression. Your comments were so encouraging, and I appreciated every one--although it was a bit convicting to read my own words written back at me! Nicolep wrote and reminded me that I had previously posted on here: "Give it one more day. 'Never give up before the miracle happens'. Who knows, your miracle may be right around the corner...you have been in this dark place before, and you came out of it. You WILL come out of it again." YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!!!!

Sometimes I get so caught up in the advocating, teaching, writing articles, etc., side of bipolar disorder, that I forget that I am also a consumer, that I have bipolar myself! And when I do get depressed, I take it hard, because I don't give myself the same break as I would give to anyone else. But I'm working on that now, because of comments y'all made, like what Cinders wrote to me: "The best we can do is be kind to ourselves."

By the way, Cinders, welcome! You said that you have MS, and that you visited us actually for a friend who has BP. Please feel free to come back anytime. I liked what you said comparing MS to BP: "We are at the mercy of our bodies and never know what we will wake up to." If you just replaced the word bodies with the word brains, you would be talking about BP, because that so perfectly describes it! And your posting brings up something else--we can get so caught up in our own mental illness that our vision becomes distorted--narrow focused--and we forget there are other people out there struggling just as we are, who have different mental illnesses, or who have physical illnesses, and that pain--whether it is emotional or physical--is a great equalizer.

Nicolep--Thank you for asking how I'm doing. I'm better. It's just the old rollercoaster ride of BP. I typically ride this ride when I get overwhelmed, and especially when I am feeling financially pressured or insecure, like I have been lately. But it always passes. I am a rapid cycler, and there are still breakthrough mini-episodes, in spite of my medication. They don't last long, though. Just something I have to live with--the consequence of having bipolar. I did want to thank you, also, for pointing out that "We don't live in the "what if" world--we live in the real world." A.A. calls it "Living life on life's terms." To be honest, that's one of the things I struggle with the most, because I tend to be an idealist--I see things not as they are, but as I want them to be.

Shanendoa--ECT stands for ElectroConvulsive Therapy--it's just the good ole shock treatments, revisited. They have come a long way since the old days, and many people who have failed all the traditional methods and medications for bipolar are finding success with ECT. I am researching the topic right now and will be writing an article about it as soon as I have gathered all the information I need.

Stacey--Your comments were perhaps the most pertinent of all. You wrote: "Allow yourself to be human, and not a label." That's something I have trouble with. Before I went on disability, I had always worked 2-3 jobs--a workaholic in complete denial. I did this for 30 years. I look back on it now and see how in-human it was, how much of life I really missed. But what it really did was give me the mindset of being super-human--never allowing myself a day off, no vacations, etc. And always being such a perfectionist, too. So now you can see how the idea of allowing myself to be human is so foreign to me. And the labels have been such a convenient excuse. They gave a name to what was "wrong" with me. But I will remember and practice your words now as part of my recovery. I will make a decision to allow myself to be human. Thank you for teaching me this. It reminds me of the saying, "There is one God, and I am not Him." LOL

Again, thank you all for your care, friendship, support, and love. Now I know that truly, *I* am not alone.

Discouragement

Being true to my word about posting about both the ups and downs of living with bipolar disorder, I have to share about how I feel today, which is the down side of this insidious disorder. I swear, if this thing were a physical entity (I picture it like a dragon, spewing fire out of its mouth, always there, always trying to destroy everything good in my life), I would take both my hands, wrap them around its neck, and choke the very life out of it, for what it has done, and continues to do to me. I hate this thing. I hate it with everything in me. I mean, I know I wrote that post about what's good about bipolar and all, and even tried to be humorous about it, but today is just one of those days that I just hate having bipolar so much...today it is just so hard to be me. I want to go back to bed, pull the covers over my head, and pretend that I don't exist. I just want a day off from my life, just one normal day, when I don't have to fight this stupid thing. It's a neverending battle, and I don't ever get a break. I never get a vacation. It is always there. Always. And it always will be. I will never be cured.

I feel like a hypocrite today--having posted and preached all these encouraging words and written articles to y'all...and here I don't even follow my own advice, feeling discouraged, depressed and full of self-pity today. Why can't I walk what I talk? I can't even follow my own advice when I'm like this. I want to scream, this isn't me! This is the bipolar, not me! I want to be happy. I don't want to be depressed. By nature I am an encourager. But what happens when the encourager becomes discouraged?

I just want to sleep...to sleep for as long as it takes for them to fix what's wrong in my brain... so that when I wake up, like Rip Van Winkle, I would awaken to a cure--a normal brain, a normal life, a normal me. I hate having bipolar disorder. I hate being different. I hate never knowing when it will spring up and surprise me, and just when I think things are going so well, my house of cards will come crashing down around me. It's like walking on a tightrope every day of your life. And the best that you can hope for is a somewhat extended period of stability, of balance. But still, deep inside, you are wary every day, watching for all those little signs that something is amiss.

And if you dare to have a relationship, or get married, it is even harder, and you keep everything hidden, because you are scared of losing that someone because of your bipolar. So you learn to fake it. To smile when you are depressed. To cry silent tears on your pillow at night after everyone else has fallen asleep. To write your deepest thoughts in a journal that no one else will ever read. And to take your medication religiously, so at least it won't get any worse than it already is. And each day you wake up, you hope today will be better than yesterday was.

That's how I've been feeling the past week. Like I'm on a rollercoaster, and bipolar is at the controls. Up and down. I'm back on my meds, so the episode is over.... but I am still feeling residual effects. Or maybe it isn't the bipolar at all. Oh my gosh, what if it isn't the disorder? What if I'm just a b-tch? Someone wrote on my blog about their husband who is bipolar, and asked how do they know how much is their husband's bipolar, and how much is just his personality? And now I wonder the same about myself. My emotions are off the wall...and now I, too, am afraid to tell anyone what's really going on in my head, for fear of the consequences.

The biggest fear I have right now is that the bipolar, my greatest enemy, that hidden enemy that attacks my very mind so that I have no real defense against it, has become greater than the medication I am taking to fight it. That the medication I have been taking for two years is no longer working. But it has to work! It's my only chance! My last chance! All the other medications have failed! I live each day petrified that one day the medicine will just stop working, because that will mean I will have to have ECT. And I am sort of attached to my memory, and really don't want to lose even a small part of it.

I am so depressed today. I thought I was doing so well. I thought I had this thing under control. I had hoped things were on an uphill swing, that I could look forward to another 2 yrs (or, dare I even hope, more than 2 yrs?) of stability and balance in my life. And I may still--this could just be a depressed day. One single day. And I may just be overreacting to it. At least I hope that's it.

So I will fake it till I make it. I will choose to believe that this is just a bad bipolar day (they do happen here and there, and don't necessarily mean another episode)--and I will stay home, stay safe, and take the extra anti-anxiety pill my psychiatrist prescribed to have on-hand just for times like these, and I will close myself up in my room, and will try to read a book, or write in my journal, and I will cry as much as I need to, and I will hide from the world for as long as I need to, and I will let the answering machine pick up my calls, because I cannot talk to anyone right now. And I will wait out this storm, choosing to believe it is only temporary. Because anything else is just too overwhelming for me right now. I realize that I am not perfect. And that just by nature of the disorder itself, I will have bad days with the good, and that this is just a bad day. And bad days do happen.

So until I find out otherwise (which I truly hope I don't), I will believe that this is just a bad day. That's all, just a bad day. Even "normal" people get them. And I will get through it. I always have before. So I will accept that I am not perfect. And I will give myself a break today. The house can wait to be cleaned for another day. The dishes can be done tomorrow. The world will not stop just because I do not participate in it today. And I will hope that tomorow will be better. Even the Bible says, "Weeping may come for a night, but joy comes in the morning."

To Tell or Not To Tell

Y'all are gonna love this! I actually went on a date. Yeah, me! First time in over two years. Let me tell you about it. Ok, confession time first. Now, don't laugh. Promise? Ok. I signed up on a telephone Date Line. Aw, see? There you go laughing. I knew you would (chuckle). Well, really, where else am I going to meet Prince Charming? I don't drink or go to bars. I certainly don't want to date someone from my bipolar support group--it's bad enough trying to live with myself! At church? Yeah, well, I thought of that. So I went. But all the good guys my age are married. The supermarket? Right. The checkout clerks do flirt with me, and that does flatter me, but after all, being 47, even if I were going to date a younger man, don't you think 18 is a bit *too* young? LOL So where does that leave me? (I'm open to suggestions).

Just as I was beginning to think that all the good guys were already taken...my neighbor across the street had a yard sale. Being the yard sale addict that I am (yes, I admit it--My name is Michele, and I am a yard sale addict), of course I had to go over. I met her, and spent the next couple hours visiting with her. So, in the course of the conversation, and her asking why she never sees a man over at my place (oh, how pathetic!), I tell her that I have been alone for over two years, that it is just me and my son. Then, of course the drama queen in me comes out, and I say (picture back of hand across my forehead here), "Oh, I am so lonely..."

So she (her name is Tammy, by the way)...Tammy proceeds to tell me about this Date Line she has been on, and how she has been talking to some very nice men on it. Now I am rattled (which is a nice way of saying p'd off)--and I say to her, "What are *you* doing on a Date Line? You already have a husband, a good man, who works hard, loves you, treats you like gold! You are using up a space in the dating world that one of us single woman should have! That's not fair! It's like having your cake and eating it too, when all I want is just a nibble!" I mean, I didn't mean to bite her head off or anything, but it just didn't seem right, ya know? So she was explaining that her husband is off working all the time, and how she is so lonely and bored during the day and how all she does is "chat" with these guys--it's all so innocent. (Here I'm thinking, "Uh, yeah, right...just lend me one of them, will ya?")

So I confess my envy to her, and tell her the it's-not-fair-you-are-taking-up-a-single-woman's-place thing...and she says, "Well, do *you* want to meet a nice guy?" Ok, so now it's put up or shut up time, and I get nervous, but stammer out some kind of affirmative reply. So she calls this guy, tells him about me, and we make arrangements for me and Tammy to meet him that night. So I spend the rest of the day going from one extreme to the other in my mind, not knowing until the very last minute whether I will actually go or not.

Ok, I went. Nervous as a teenager, but I went. His name is Robert. And he really seems like a nice guy. And yes, we do hit it off, and it looks like we are going to see each other again. But now I have to decide, do I tell him I have bipolar or not?

TO BE CONTINUED...

Suicidal Thoughts

I was so pleased when I checked the blog today and saw how many of you responded to each other's comments, each helping the other. That is exactly what I had hoped would happen. First, let me clear up a few things. Many have asked where they can read the Manic Episode article. Go to bipolarcentral.com, click on articles, then my corner, and click on the article. That is part one. Don't worry, I won't leave you hanging, part 2 will be the depressed cycle, and part 3 will be stabilization.

Second, so many of you are bringing up the suicide topic. Of course, I sorta opened up that can of words by mentioning about my sister having killed herself in April, but it does seem to be on so many of your minds (and even on my own last week during my depressed cycle) that it causes concern. So much, in fact, that very shortly I will be writing an article on that very subject. So if you have something to share on that, feel free to do it here. We don't judge each other, especially since during our depressed cycles, many of us have had suicidal thoughts, and were afraid to share them with our loved ones. Some have even attempted it during an episode, including myself. But there is a huge difference between having suicidal ideologies, and actually committing the act.

For those who are having those impulses now, I beg of you to postpone your decision. Give it one more day. "Never give up before the miracle happens," I believe. Who knows, your miracle may be right around the corner! Think about this thought as well--Bipolar Disorder is a mental illness that lies to you by telling you that you do not have the disorder, or worse yet, that you are crazy and that you will never get better, or be normal. But the truth is, you have been in this dark place before, and you came out of it. You WILL come out of it again.

One of my mind's favorite tricks to play on me while in an episode is for me to think, I don't really want to kill myself. I just want to be dead. I'm too chicken to do it myself, but I wish someone else would do it for me. You know, the old "hit by a bus" fantasy, or the car accident fantasy, or the "just go away cuz no one would care anyway" thinking. But friends, these are all LIES that our minds tell us during an episode. They are not true.

Those who are not in an episode right now, please reach out to those who are--tell them your experiences with suicidal thoughts. Because by the very notion that you are alive today to share your experience means that you chose life, that you did not give up or give in, that you got through that episode! Share your experience, strength, and hope with them-- show them that they, too, can get through it, no matter how dark it seems right now. They may be thinking there is no one in the world who cares about them right now. We need to show them that they are not alone--that we are each other's life preservers! We can give each other hope.

Because we are not just people with bipolar disorder. We are bipolar SURVIVORS!!! We have not let our suicidal thoughts while in our episodes win out and get the best of us. We have won out over our own thoughts, over our own minds, over our own episodes, and we have come out on the other side. We have won! And if we can do it, so can you!

If you are still thinking of suicide, please, please, call a suicide hotline. Get help. Tell someone. Post on here. But whatever you do, reach out to someone. The lie is that no one cares about you. The truth is that someone does. We do. And we are pulling for you. We have been there, and we do know how you feel. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

Remember one last thing, please. SUICIDE IS A PERMANENT SOLUTION TO A TEMPORARY PROBLEM.

We Can Help Each Other

Wow! I am so overwhelmed at the responses to my first post yesterday. Here I was telling y'all that YOU are not alone, all the while hoping that *I* was not alone! Well, I sure did learn my lesson. But here's the thing. I received so many emails, so many of you sharing your stories and pain, current problems, some even sharing how you are at this moment even thinking of suicide. And my heart just broke for all of you, and I cried for you, for all of us. And I thought, there is only one of me--how am I going to respond to all these people, much less help them?

So here's the deal, y'all...the only way this is going to work is if we help each other. We share a common bond. We all have bipolar disorder. We may come from different backgrounds, be different ages, live in different states, even have different types of bipolar. But our similarities far surpass all that.

We all know what it's like to feel alone, to feel "different", to feel somehow like "damaged goods" or "broken" somehow. To feel like there isn't a single person out there who knows how we feel, or what we go through...who knows that terror we live with when we cycle into an episode, when our own mind turns against us, and we become our own worst enemy...when we watch our families turn away from us in hurt, in frustration, and sometimes turn away for good, when they just totally give up on us, and we are left alone to face this awful disorder ourselves.

We know what it's like to go so far down into the recesses of a living hell that suicide seems the only option left for us. And we know the fear of telling someone else, because they might call us crazy and lock us up, and we might never get out again. We know that insecurity of finally meeting someone we might actually be able to have a relationship with, but are scared to tell them we have bipolar disorder, because if they knew, they would become afraid of us, and/or reject us.

We know what it's like to be afraid of our own selves, our own minds, to not know from one day to the next whether we'll be happy, or sad, or manic, or depressed, or agitated and hostile, or suicidal or homicidal or crazy or maybe even sane! And even if we feel sane, there is always that question in the back of our minds, how long will it last this time?

We know the struggle with the medication merry-go-round, the struggle with finding the right professional who will stay with us long enough to actually help us on a long term basis, or fighting with insurance companies who arbitrarily cut off funding for our usually expensive medications.

We know what it's like to wonder what normal is, and if we will ever get there. We feel like we are the misfits of society...that there is no room for us in a "sane" world, that no one understands us, not even our loved ones... we live with our silent thoughts because they are so frightening even to us, much less to share them with our loved ones. We are lost, we are confused, we are alone, we are frightened, we cannot trust ourselves, we live in a world so different than others... and even the best of us, the lucky ones, who have been able to learn methods of coping, who function in society, even have good jobs, or good marriages, or are good parents, or go long periods without episodes, or have a good support system, or have good insurance so they don't go without their medication, or have a good therapist and a good psychiatrist...those lucky ones that have a relatively normal life...if you were to ask them to be honest...well, you might just find that they still live with the fear that at any time their little house of cards might come crashing down on them and they might find themselves in an episode.

Because we are not one of Jerry's children. There is no cure for what we have. And what we have can be fatal. Some days it is all we can do just to get out of bed, and that is the best we can do for that day. Some days we think we can run not only our lives, but yours as well! Maybe even the world itself! And we have great ideas. And we are very creative. And we are very outgoing people. But just as quickly we can crash and burn. And again, we wonder, would it be better if I just died? So I ask you, what other disease out there is like the one we suffer from? What antibiotic will cure our infection?

We have one hope. Our hope is each other. The silence must be broken. That's why this forum has been started. We don't have to suffer in silence any more, thinking that we are alone, that no one else thinks the crazy thoughts that we do... that if anyone found out we were thinking of killing ourselves, they would lock us up. Here, in this place, we are safe. We can talk about anything. And we will find others who know what we are going through. Maybe even have those very same thoughts! And we can help each other, encourage each other, share our stories with each other, share our pain, share our struggles, our victories, cry with each other, and yes, even laugh with each other. We can know that WE ARE NOT ALONE!

Let's do this. Let's make this work. Let's help each other deal with this thing. That's why this blog is called Bipolar Survivor. If you are reading this, YOU are a Bipolar Survivor. And every day that you wake up, you are a survivor.

"What's Good About Bipolar?"
by Michele Soloway

Okay, calm down! Just like the rest of you, my first instinct was to scream at David, “There’s absolutely nothing good about having bipolar disorder (BP);” and, of course, to tell him he was crazy to even think there is! However, in reading your posts, and considering my own experiences growing up with a mom who had BP, having BP myself, and being mom to a teen with BP, I believe there is something good to be said about it, after all.

First of all, let me tell you, if my doctor were to take me into a room, place me before a row of diagnoses, and ask me to choose one for myself, I definitely would not choose bipolar disorder. Would you? But no one gave us a choice, did they? And no one gave our children or family member a choice, either.

Heredity issue aside, we need to establish that we did not bring this upon ourselves. It is not our “fault.” However, neither are we “victims,” any more than a person with diabetes or high blood pressure is a victim, and thinking of ourselves with a “victim mentality” is neither healthy nor productive. If we are to find anything good at all in having BP, we first have to have a positive attitude, which I will talk about more in a little while.

All that having been said, let’s go on to the “good” stuff.

How about doing a Letterman’s Top 10 List?

THE TOP TEN GOOD THINGS TO BE SAID ABOUT BIPOLAR DISORDER:

Number 10… (drum roll)…
IT IS NOT TRI-POLAR DISORDER.

Number 9… (drum roll)…
IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE BEARS ON THE NORTH POLE.

Number 8… (drum roll)…
YOU DON’T HAVE TO KEEP YOUR POLES CLEAN (IN ORDER) FOR COMPANY.

Number 7… (drum roll)…
YOU CAN DO DESE TINGS IN DIS ORDER.

Number 6… (drum roll)…
HAVING BIPOLAR HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR SEXUALITY.



Number 5… (drum roll)…
IT IS NOT CONTAGIOUS (WELL, AT LEAST NOT BY SNEEZING ON SOMEONE, ANYWAY – BUT YOU COULD ALWAYS MIND-MELD THEM LIKE SPOCK).

Number 4… (drum roll)…
YOU GET THE PART OF BOTH DR. JECKYL AND MR. HYDE IN EVERY SCHOOL PLAY.

Number 3… (drum roll)… (aren’t you getting sick of these drum rolls? How about a drum biscuit for a change?)

YOU GET TO GO SHOPPING! A LOT. A REAL LOT. A REAL, REAL LOT.

Number 2… (drum roll)…

SOMETIMES YOU GET TO GO UP AND DOWN (AND UP AND DOWN AND UP AND DOWN) SEVERAL TIMES A DAY, WEEK, MONTH, OR YEAR (take your pick) LIKE RIDING ON THE FERRIS WHEEL AT THE PARK, ONLY FREE!

And… Numero Uno… (drum roll)…

ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS YOU EVEN GET TO VISIT THE SANITY HOTEL, ALL EXPENSES PAID!

Well, hopefully, you at least have a smile on your face by now. Either that, or you are steaming mad at me for making light of a very serious subject. Which is exactly my point. I do have BP, and I very well know how serious it is. But one of the biggest lessons I have learned is that I must keep things in perspective, take everything with a grain of salt, and have a sense of humor. Because many times, if we don’t laugh, we will cry.

Even the Bible says, “Laughter does good like a medicine.” I know that in my worst depressive cycles, when someone made me laugh, it was like a ray of sunshine sneaking in, however brief. I’m not saying to laugh all the time, or pretend that things are peachy keen, when they aren’t. We do have to be honest about how we are feeling in order to self-regulate our moods (inasmuch as we are able), but we can learn to be a little more light-hearted; not to take everything so seriously. Since adopting a more positive attitude, I was episode-free for two whole years, and I even became healthier physically, all because my stress level was reduced.

So the best thing to be said about having BP is this: BP it is not curable, but it is controllable; and although medication and cognitive therapy are considered essential for ongoing management of the disorder, a positive attitude is just as essential.

First Impressions

Hey, y'all,

When Dave first approached me to begin journaling on this blog as a bipolar survivor, I was so excited! I thought, gee, I have so much to share, I can help so many people, I've got this thing all under control, blah blah blah. Well, let me tell you. God really does have a sense of humor!

Right after the "I've got this all under control thing," and after two whole years of stability (no episodes), I went into a manic episode. And I don't mean the "good" kind, where I love everyone and everyone loves me, and the only downside was that I spent too much money. I mean the "bad" kind. The very bad kind. This kind of mania was new to me. I had never experienced it before, and one of my first angry thoughts was, nobody asked me if *I* wanted this experience. I didn't get a vote. 'Cuz if I did, I sure wouldn't have opted for this. It was pure hell...every single day of it was a living hell. The only good thing to say about it at all was that somehow, miraculously, I did survive it and was even able to write about it, which you can read about in the article called BIPOLAR EPISODE - MANIC- PART ONE.

I had wanted to make a good first impression on those of you who have bipolar. Instead, after going through what I just went through, you have made a good impression on me. I have so much respect and empathy for those of you who have to deal with this "bad" kind of BP, and for your loved ones. The best thing to be said for it is, you can get through it (see my article entitled "What's Good About Bipolar?"), whichever type of bipolar disorder you have. I am living proof of that.

So, y'all, with all my best laid plans to make a good impression down the drain, I'll just be me, ok? Which is all I can be, anyway. I've got this keychain that I love. It says, "Don't try to understand me, just love me." My postings may not always be happy-happy-joy-joy, because for us survivors, sometimes to even have one happy day in a week is about the best we get. Some of my postings may be on the sad side. But I will always be honest.

Just a little of my background: My grandmother, my mother, my sister, one of my brothers, myself, and my 15-yr-old son all have bipolar, so I am very familiar with all sides of the disorder, from a very young age. My sister was 44 and killed herself this past April, because she was off her medication. So if you find me a bit of a hard-liner on taking medication religiously, please forgive me. It's just that if my sister had stayed on her medication, she would still be alive.

So, I hope that my postings will encourage you, help you, and if nothing else, remind you that YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

Michele