Tag: bipolar disorder ii

Craving

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I am experiencing a god-awful craving for closeness.

A need to touch and be touched. Held. Cared for.

It’s a creepy sensation. Mainly because it’s unfamiliar. I’m quite confident in my solitary travel ways. But this makes me feel like a creepy deviant.

I’m not sure why. All I know is that I feel alone. Surrounded by people, sure. Good people. People I have come to admire and respect. But alone.

I think that touch affirms the sense of being a people. People touch other people to show they are paying attention.

It helps me know that I am alive. Worthwhile.

But I can’t ask strangers. Can’t ask travel friends. That’s creepy. Yet the feeling’s building up.

So, what’s the solution?

MASSAGE

A solid 1.5 hour massage. Head to toe. Forget the hot rocks, hold the oil – this isn’t for improved skin tone or blood circulation.

This is about re-establishing my sense of humanity.

And man, humanity sure does feel good.

Climate Prep

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I have heard a theory about  cultures that  develop in extreme climates. The theory goes that severe conditions requires careful preparation to survive. The local communities develop routines that work around the local environmental conditions. Like collecting food and fuel to last out frozen months. Or hauling water vast distances in the gray of early morning to avoid dehydration during the furnace of mid-day.

The interesting point for me is the way the people pay attention to the signs and signals in the weather. They see a cloud on the horizon, or notice a hint of change in the air, and they respond accordingly. They have learned that to ignore the warning signs is to chance an extremely uncomfortable (and potentially short) existence.

This matters because my moods are like the weather in many ways:

  • they are outside my direct control
  • their arrival is preceded by certain signs
  • they’re impacts can be mitigated by intelligent preparation
  • the consequences of ignoring them can be devastating

For example, if i notice a certain numbness to my thoughts – like I haven’t slept enough and my brain feels sluggish – that’s a good indication of a depressive episode. OR if I get excited at the prospect of something menial – and the excitement doesn’t fade, or seems to cross into every thought – then there’s a good percentage on it being a precursor to a hypomanic episode.

Unfortunately, there are strong temptations to ignore these signs. I might try to brush of a numb sensation as a result of working too hard, or a strong flutter as a normal response to exciting news. Because the truth is I don’t want to have to face the tough times ahead. I don’t want to stockpile provisions. I don’t want to avoid the outdoors.

Additionally, other people can’t see the weather. It’s not real for them. And I don’t want to look dumb in front of my friends by throwing on a heavy jacket indoors, or chugging ice-water when everyone else is sipping hot chocolates.

But this is dumb. It’s like standing in the snow without clothes because you don’t believe in blizzards. The weather exists whether you believe in it or not.

Besides, I’m not doing this preparation for them. I’m doing it for me.

Nope

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I woke up today and found it was raining nope. Up into the sky, behind the sunshine and chirping birds were great big rolling clouds of nope. As they passed, they dropped massive sheets of nope all over the landscape.

Great big walls of liquid nope dropping out of the heavens, smashing into the ground with torrential force. Going outside was impossible.

This was weird because no one else sees to notice. They were walking around in the nope. I watched as it cascaded from their clothes, over their faces. They were wading through the nope like it wasn’t even there.

Soon the nope pools ran together, becoming lakes that submerged the landscape. From my window I watched as a moving wall of nope started rising up the side of my building, washing away even the slightest chance of doing anything.

Bridges went down. Communications were cut off. Before long, I was stuck on an island made of blankets, with limited energy reserves and precious few fucks to give.

I hope rescue turns up soon.

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Guilt vs Shame

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I don’t feel guilt when I’m depressed.

Guilt is knowledge. Guilt is a deliberate, conditioned response to a deliberate, considered action. If I steal the last cookie from the pack, I feel guilty, because I know that’s a dick move. Society has taught me this is wrong, and so when I do wrong, then I become guilty. It’s just information.

Shame is a state of being. It is an emotional state of crushing force. Shame shuts down my ability to do even the most basic things. It diminishes my sense of honour, worth, and self esteem. Anything that removes or diminishes these ideal is shameful, and thus I feel ashamed. It’s a feeling of diminished possibilities.

Here’s the rub. I can do a thing that makes me guilty but not ashamed. If I sleep with someone and don’t call them back, that makes me guilty of being a crappy lover (or a great one-night stand, your choice). I may experience guilt because it’s not what you’re “meant“to do, but I don’t feel shame, because it’s not a shameful thing.

On the flip side, if I’m late to meet with friends, I feel shame, because my mental state tells me that I’m a horrible human being for not respecting their time. It’s my sense of self that gets judged, not just the action. I’m not guilty per se, because it was not deliberate.  Besides, they were late anyway and forgave my trespass.

That’s what friends are for, right?

But depression doesn’t let me see this distinction. It robs me of the insight into the difference between an external judgement and an internal state. Guilt becomes shame. Shame then creates more shame, because it stops me from doing. And because I can’t do, I feel more shame – and so the cycle starts.

However, you can stop the cycle before it begins.

Firstly remember that everything that happens to you is not your fault. You did not cause it. You do not control how the world works. You can only ever choose how to react to it.

And secondly, remember that depression, bipolar – and mental health issues in general – impact your ability to react. In the same way as an external force acting on your body. You can’t choose how to feel. And that counts as an external force.

Remember: guilt relates to deliberate choices and is determined mainly by society, while shame is an internal judgement. Bipolar and associated conditions are not a choice, nor are they internal judgements. They are things that are happening to you.

So they can’t be given the label of either guilt or shame.

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[shirt]

The Good Fight

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Today was not the right day for things to go wrong. It felt like fighting an uphill battle. Against giants. While armed with waterpistols.

I missed out on saying goodbye to a food friend by mere minutes. Then the taxi went to the wrong address. I lost money through carelessness. Got mad and tried to drink my feelings away. Turned up late to a dinner with friends. Yelled about my crap life in front of strangers. Got lost on the way home. The air conditioner broke down and it hot as hell.

Yeah it was a tough day. Made worse by the fact that I know it’s actually not that bad. Everything on the list is annoying, sure. But in the real world it’s recoverable. I know I’m durable. And I will survive. Which makes the guilt at feeling bad even worse.

How to beat it.
There’s no simple solution. When the monster wants me it comes and takes me. Repressing or refusing to acknowledge an episode – no matter how minor – just makes it worse.

So the best thing for me is to stand up (or at least sit a bit higher on my bed) and declare loudly (mumble into my pillow) “I am experiencing a bout of depression. It’s not me, I am not the cause. Anymore than I’m the cause of rainy weather. Bad things happen. But I will be smart about this and stay out of the rain as much as I can.”

I will fight the good fight. And it becomes a good fight when I stop fighting by taking the blame away from the circumstance.

New paint

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It’s amazing how much my sense of identity is tied to this meat suit.

I mean yeah, my body is me. I know this. But usually I’m focused on other things – how to pay bills, working on relationships, picking what to have for breakfast. I lose sight of the fact that I am inseparable from my body.

Sure it drives me wild sometimes – I mean, who would choose to be bipolar? You wouldn’t choose a car you knew would occasionally refuse to start.

But it’s all I have. And honestly I kind of like it now. I’ve put in a lot of work over the last few years and it’s better now than I think it’s ever been before.

So I’ve decided to show it I like it the best way I know how. Just like a car owner might get their wheels a new coat of paint – I’m getting a haircut and dressing fancy.

Head vs Habit

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I think my habits are automatic feedback loops. They’re hard to beat,
because interrupting them feels uncomfortable. But letting them run
their course delivers a reward feedback.

Case in point: I’m watching tv shows on my laptop. I need sleep so I can do things like an intelligent human. What do I do? Watch more, then get on Tumblr and look at pictures of ducks.

Second case: I have an appointment in another city coming up, and need to book travel and accommodation. The day before rolls around and BAM I’m still in my room. Looking at pictures of ducks.

On the flip side, my head knows what’s best. It remembers how I feel when I do the thing, or stop doing the thing.

It just needs leverage to interrupt the habit loop.

This matters because some of my habits – late nights, heavy drinking, bad diet, lack of exercise – are self-destructive. They all contribute to increasing occurrence, severity and length of a bipolar/cyclothymic episode.And it’s not like I have a choice of going up or down.

So, how do you get your head to beat your habits?

Ripples on a lake

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There is an amazing sense of peace underwater. The silence, the feel of coolness and depth. It makes for an amazing break with the world above.

It also forms the basis of one of my favourite calming thoughts.

I’m sitting at the bottom of a lake or stream. It is cool and quiet all around me. The rest of the world is reflected as waves and ripples on the surface above. Constant movement – sometimes fast and frantic as in a storm, other times it’s smooth and tranquil as a windless day.

The fact is, I can’t control the waves. they happen outside my control. I can see the surface, feel the movement as things happen. The ripples are real. But they are also distant.

And the space between me and the waves above is as close or as far away as I wish. I can reach out and interact with them – make waves of my own – or step back and watch.

It’s always my choice.

Making Space

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Look around you. Right now, how much distance is between you and the nearest person? Could you reach out and touch them?

Okay, now how much do you know about that person? How much distance is between you as people? Can you measure the solipsistic gulf – and are you happy with that distance?

 I’m surrounded by people, but I haven’t said hello to anyone in days.

Right now the gulf is massive. There is a sense of un-worth that stops me from interacting. Like great grey walls that block all sight and muffle all sound.

There’s not much I can do. Being alone is hard. But reaching out is harder. Talking is harder.

However, there is power in this knowledge. I know from experience that this grey gulf is real. It is happening right now. But it is also as insubstantial as and fleeting as mist on a sunny day.

And the best thing is that I don’t have to do anything. The passing of time will take care of it. I just need to give myself space. Give myself permission to be alone, and soon enough I can reach out and – metaphorically – touch people once again.

Re-Landing

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I have returned home after months of travel.

It is just a short trip home, and I will leave again soon.

Yet I feel a tad disconnected, and a little uncertain about that choice. I feel more homeless than I’ve ever been. So now is the time to reconnect, to talk to friends and loved ones. Make plans, and then keep some of them.

Please rest assured, I haven’t forgotten you, dear reader. Soon I will write more. But now is the time for talks and beverages and hugs.

Go hug someone for me, will you?