You Are Not Your Disorder

Hey, y'all--

Got some exciting news! Since I've been feeling so much better after the shock treatments and coming out of the depression and stabilizing, writing ideas have been starting to come back to me. I had an idea for a weekly column called "For Your Mental Health" for our local weekly paper, and pitched the idea to the editor, and he accepted it! I told him we always see these columns about "For Your Health," etc., where a doctor or other health professional tells us about dieting, exercise, cholesterol, etc. But NO ONE (at least not to my knowledge) has ever written one about mental illness! Like we're still society's outcasts, ya know? Like no one wants to bring it out in the open.

I'm writing the column about things in general that we all deal with, not just those of us with bipolar disorder. Because even those of us with BP have other disorders as well--anxiety, for example, usually goes hand in hand with BP. In my case, I also have schizoaffective disorder and borderline personality disorder. Don't worry, I have good medication for those as well, and I'm under control! :)

Today's article for the paper was on "You Are Not Your Disorder," and I wrote about BP, for example, talking about the difference between saying you ARE bipolar vs. you HAVE bipolar. Next week's article is going to be about how society as a whole needs to be better educated on mental illness. I'd appreciate ANY AND ALL HELP y'all can give me on that, so please write with your comments and suggestions?

Remember that God loves you and so do I!
Love, Michele

Just Checkin' In

Hey, y'all--

No big revelations today, or anything--just checkin' in. Was at a meeting last night, and this guy was just so very angry at having bipolar disorder, he was just ranting and raving! He said that he is newly diagnosed, doesn't know very much about "it" yet, was just starting to read about it, and was just starting on medication. Ah..., I thought, now I understand where his anger is coming from. Don't we all?

Took me back to my beginning... finding out there was actually a name for the insanity I felt! Whew! And then just as fast as I was feeling relief, that feeling was taken away from me just as if the carpet was pulled out right from beneath my feet, and I was told (as Paul Harvey would say) "the rest of the story." The good news? I wasn't going to die. The bad news? There was no cure. The good news? There was medication that would help control the symptoms. The bad news? I would have to take the medication for the rest of my life. I could go on and on with the good news/bad news scenerios, but you all know what I mean.

We all know what it was like in the beginning...that awful fear that descended on us--mostly the fear of the unknown. For bipolar disorder (although we were relieved we at least had a diagnosis), was not something as easily defined as, say, diabetes or even cancer. BP is a hidden handicap--just as disabling as any physical disorder--however, this one comes with a whole host of its own symptoms, some not socially acceptable.

Many people with BP will not even tell people they have it, for fear of reprisal, such as loss of their jobs. Not because we fear the disorder, but because other people fear it--again, fear of the unknown, most likely. As soon as we found out we had BP, we read what we could find about it--those who don't have it, won't make that kind of effort. And, too many times, we are judged, sometimes harshly, for having BP, just because of society's ignorance of the disorder.

Things are getting better, as far as educating the general public about BP, largely through the efforts of organizations such as NAMI and NIMH... but in our own private sectors of the "general public" (our co-workers and/or those closest to us), too many of us still feel "less than," "not a part of," "defective," "abnormal," "different," etc. And, with the medication merry-go-round (until we find the medication that works for us which, in my case, anyway, took 2 years), it may take a long time to feel like ourselves again (if there ever was a "self" in the first place).

Anyway, I didn't mean to run off like this, just over a guy at a meeting last night, but once I got started...oh well, it's just a subject close to my heart. Even though several times a week I meet people who either have BP, know someone who does (usually a family member), or are newly diagnosed, it still amazes me that this disorder is as widespread as it is, yet is so rarely talked about, or brought out into the open. It just makes me even more grateful that we have this forum (blog) to share in.

Remember, God loves you, and so do I.
Love, Michele

How is This Right?

Hey, y'all--

Just had to share this with you--it helped pull me out of my depression, and I hope it will help you with yours (present or future/bipolar or not):

In the course of your daily life, whenever you encounter something that is not your idea of a good thing, ask yourself, "If everything that is happening is right, how is this right?"

What's right about the fight with your mother, the fender-bender, your aching back? Without negating what's wrong, ask yourself what function or need is the event serving?

Maybe what's right about the fight is that your are learning to say No; maybe the fender-bender is a wake-up call that you are too stressed-out; maybe your aching back is a reminder that your body wants some exercise.

Again, this is not to deny, suppress, or ignore the difficulty or pain you might be experiencing, but rather TO TAKE THE MEANING FROM THE SUFFERING SO THAT THE LESSON WON'T HAVE TO BE LEARNED AGAIN.

Remember that God loves you, and so do I.
Love, Michele

Whatever It Takes

Hey, y'all--

Sorry I haven't written. Having a bit of the blues. It just frustrates me, makes me mad, even--thought it wouldn't happen any more, now that I had the ECT and all. And intellectually I recognize what everyone tells me about it-- yeah, I'm human, and yeah, I'm like everyone else and yeah, everyone gets the blues, etc. etc. But emotionally, it's still a bummer when I do. I hate this feeling. I feel like I go two steps forward and one step back, ya know? And even tho my house is a wreck and needs to be cleaned, and the mail has piled up, and I haven't checked my email in days, and...and...all I really wanna do is crawl into bed, turn off my phone, eat sunflower seeds and read a book. Boy, aren't I a great example of a bipolar survivor, huh?

But the truth is, this does still happen here and there. Yes, I have bipolar, and yes, I did have shock treatments (ECT) to control it, and yes, they did work, and yes, I am still on my bipolar medication, and yes, it is still keeping me stable. But will I still experience depression from time to time? Unfortunately, yes. But nothing like I was before. And that's a big deal for me. I'll do whatever it takes to never go back there again.

When I get depressed now, all I have to do is remind myself of what I felt and what I thought before I had the ECT, and then I am willing to do whatever it takes to never go back there again. Even if that means I give myself permission to hide in bed with my sunflower seeds and a book! Even if I want to take a day off from the world outside my door. Yes, I give myself permission to do that. And I've learned that that is ok. Really. It's ok. The world is not going to stop turning just because I left the dishes in the sink till tomorrow... or not checked my email for an extra day. Or not opened the mail today.

But by giving myself permission to take a day off, I may very well be avoiding another episode. And that is what matters to me. Sometimes that is what it takes to ride out the depression. And I have to be optimistic--thinking, "Tomorrow will be better." No one knows what tomorrow will bring. So it's ok to think, "Tomorrow will be better." Who knows that it won't? But isn't it better to go to sleep thinking that tomorrow will be better? I've found that that really does work for me. And, even those times when the next day turned out not to be better, well, hey--at least I gave it a shot, and that's better than nothing, huh? It's still a way that I am controlling my disorder, and not my disorder controlling me.

Remember, God loves you and so do I!
Michele