[Naming the ups and downs of bipolar, one feel at a time]
When I say “I can’t believe I said that,” who the heck is the “I” in that sentence?
If I’m down, and I think “I can’t stand myself,” just who is this individual that can not do the standing?
It’s the Watcher. That part of your consciousness that silently observes. And it’s great.
Because there’s no judgement with the observer. No hate, no loathing – just acceptance.
I think I’d like to get to know this guy more. I think he’s got something going, and “I” want a part of it.
ANONYMOUS ASKED:
hi! so im currently dating someone who (most likely) has cyclothemia, and i love her so much and i just wish i knew what i could do when shes having one of her irritable/depressive stages…. especially when she’s lashing out at me, because im never sure how to respond in a way that won’t set her off more. any advice you could give me would be hugely appreciated!! 🙂
So, first up, I’m not a doctor and I’m not a relationship therapist. I don’t know you guys or your situation. Also, it’s completely possible that any advice I offer will be off-target and may blow up in your face – I can only talk about what works for me. So I want you to take what I say in that spirit, and hopefully you can cherry-pick the parts that work for you.
Ready? Here we go.
Depression and irritability make it hard for me to do. For me, they cloud out possibilities – from my future as a professional, to the chances of starting a family, right down to the possibility of getting up to make toast. It all becomes too hard, too annoying, too ugh. Like standing in the middle of a desert – any direction you choose is the wrong one.
Because of this, it’s easy for depressed-me or aggressive-me to enter a shame spiral when interacting with the world. As an example, if I turn down an invitation to a party (for me a wise decision because I will be horrible company) I won’t think about how this is an intelligent and rational decision – instead my brain will focus on how I am a horrible human being for being so negative and avoiding people.
Does this make sense so far? Good.
Now, the tricky bit – how to deal as the non-bipolaroid:
I hope that helps you, guy! Thanks for reaching out!
Something is missing.
Chocolate? Beer? Exercise? A certain someone?
Do I need a holiday? Maybe a haircut? A fair and improved version of democracy? A new car?
I don’t know, but something feels off.
And it could just be an agitation – a side effect of the hypomania. But I’ll keep an eye on it, just the same.
A plateau is a flat ground at the top of a high point. If it was a feeling, it would be contentment – the feel that you’re in a good place, but that nothing’s changing.
The opposite of that? Maybe a canyon.
If a canyon was a feel, it would bee that feel you get when you’re stuck in a rut, and are limited in directions to go. I mean, yeah, you could climb the walls, but that’s hella hard, and when I’m at the bottom, any direction that isn’t immediately ahead of me is doomed to failure.
So, how can I beat it? Well,I can’t, and I don’t. Fighting against depression is like throwing rocks at a cliff wall – I can flail away, but in the end I will just get frustrated at my lack of progress. I’m weak. And if I take it too far, I might hurt myself or those around me.
Instead of fighting it, or trying to force change where change won’t happen, I accept my situation. Hell yeah, it sucks – that’s mental illness for you. But there’s another way.
I just go liloing. Perhaps the best way out of a canyon is to follow the water – just jump on an inflatable tube mattress and let the current carry me along. Eventually, I find myself at a place where the canyon walls are low enough to scale. Then I can get out any time I like – or if I want, I can just keep floating.
Here’s the lilo lesson – sometimes it’s best to just go with the flow.
On my travels, I have met a number of people who practice yoga.
They focus on their inside environment by stretching their bodies, (safely) push them to their limits. They focus on their breathing.
They know that what they consume affects their experience. Many of these yogis and yoginis (sp?) focus on their food and drink as well, with a strong emphasis on fresh, clean meals that taste great. Nothing unpleasant. Nothing toxic.
They extend this philosophy to their daily lives. In the places they stay, the activities they attempt, and even the people they meet – they seek to increase the frequency and duration of the more pleasant experiences, places and people they encounter, while removing the toxic and unpleasant.
They learn to trust their instinct. These yoga types have a kind of watchful circuitry. One that keeps an eye on their moods and feelings, lets them know if something’s amiss, and helps them identify how to rectify the situation. They learn to listen to their emotions, because they recognise them as real.
There are some amazing similarities between these exercises and practices, and the habits I have cultivated to help me manage my bipolarity:
And now I’m wondering if this is something I can look into more fully. What more can yoga teach me about managing my condition?
We live in a mechanistic universe with a limited range of senses at our disposal. So it’s understandable that people get things wrong. There’s just no way to have all of the facts all of the time.
Bias exists, and we’re all party to it. Cultural, historical, political, personal lensing – these past experiences and the views of peers have a powerful sway over how we interpret and filter information.So we cast different meanings on the same set of events.
The nervous system enforces solipsism. How can I know that you see the colour red the same way I do? Or that what I hear when a train passes in the night is the same sound as what you hear? I can’t. There’s no way. It’s built in.
It helps to know these things. People can’t help but view things differently, because they are different.
This matters with mental health because as a person living with bipolar, there are times when people don’t get it. And that’s fine. They don’t have to.
So it helps to be aware of the difference. It means I can deal with people who don’t get it. My imagination lets me empathise with them, without necessarily agreeing with them.
I can cross the void. Then, instead of trying to change their view, or convincing them of a certain perspective, I can just work around them with a minimum of fuss.
There is no such thing as “sick enough”.
As I write this I am several hundred thousand kilometres and quite a few air-hours from home. No support, no back-up. Just me and my condition.
And this one truth hits home – I am responsible for managing myself.
If I need help, then I get help. I may not feel like I deserve assistance. I may loathe the idea of asking for help – I usually do – but in this case no one else is going to do it for me. Because they can’t.
They don’t know.
And why not? Because there’s no measure for when someone is “sick enough” to get help. If you saw someone bleeding, you wouldn’t stop to measure how much blood they had lost before deciding to lend a hand. That’s counterproductive – you would help, or get them help, as fast as possible. Assess their needs, sure, but not dismiss them out of hand. Because there’s no such thing as bleeding enough, is there?
And it’s the same for mental health. If I am depressive or hypomanic, then that’s reality. It is happening – it is fact. Except in my case, no one can see the medical emergency going on. It’s all internal.
It’s up to me to act.
So if you are struggling, if you feel the need for assistance, do not listen to the thought that you are not “sick enough” because that definition does not exist.
There’s a popular building package where I grew up called the Knock Down and Rebuild. Basically you just pay some dude with a bulldozer or whatever to smash up your house, then build a new one.
Sounds like fun, yes?
When I had my last real episode, I knew this was something I had to do – I had to smash the habits that had lead to my breakdown, and bolt together something better in its place.
BULLDOZE BAD HABITS – be it work, relationships, substances, staying up late at night watching Netflix. If something is causing you stress, stealing your sleep or in other ways damaging your cool, then walk away. Smash that habit and never look back.
BUILD A SUPPORT NETWORK – maybe tell family, friends and mental health professionals what’s going on. They can’t shoulder the burden for you, true, but just telling them what’s happening means you are taking responsibility. And that’s some powerful stuff.
THERE WILL BE COLLATERAL – there are gonna be times when you slip. This is expected – you can’t be ready all the time. But by telling your support peeps, they will be ready, and can sometimes help you rebuild things.
Emotions are real. You can feel them, see how they change things, hear them alter your voice.
Their existence is not a matter of question – it is fact. But they come with some big fucking caveats.
THIS IS SUPER TOUGH – because you are up against forces that literally part of you, and that no one else can see.Just like someone wear a VR headset, the people around you cannot experience what the wearer sees and hears – they can only observe the wearer’s reactions.
SO BE KIND TO YOURSELF – because the truth is that control is not always possible, and almost never desirable. You can’t take the headset off, but you can learn that this is your own reality. So be nice to yourself when you fall, and give yourself the space to fix things when you need it.
Emotions are not collectable things. They are more like bubbles on a stream – you can examine them closely, but eventually you have to watch them float by. At which point they will be replaced by new bubbles.
For me, my bipolar moods are like these bubbles.These feelings (or lack of feelings) are things that are happening in my world . They are present, but passing – and I do not have to do anything about them, other than examine them.
This does not mean that my bipolar moods are in any way less real or less powerful than those experienced by other people – or by myself when I’m not involved in an episode. They are real. The are present.
But they are circumstantial.
This is important to note, because for bipolaroids like me, it becomes necessary to dissociate feelings from action.
My moods are not my choice. The stream doesn’t get to choose the size or frequency of the bubbles. They just happen.
Likewise,I am not responsible for my feelings. I am only responsible for how I respond. Just like everyone else.