Tag: bipolar II

I think I’m cyclothymic, I get regular and drastic mood swings ranging from extremely energetic to blank and uncaring to sad and wanting to lay down and cry to extreme anger. My bf thinks I’m fine. Do you think I’m cyclothymic or am I being paranoid?

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A better question might be: how are your feels
impact your experiences?

Are they affecting your quality of life? And
what are your options for dealing with them?

It took me a long
time to get my diagnosis. I was experiencing hypomanic and depressive
episodes throughout high school and beyond. I didn’t do anything about it
because I thought it was normal. I thought I was being
sensitive – that I just sucked at playing it cool.

As it
turns out, I’m very good at playing it cool. It’s why I was able to
muddle on for so long before I crashed out in a big way.

But
here’s a glowing little secret for you, Anon.

No one can tell you what
your feelings are. Same as no one can tell you that you’re hungry, or
how you experience colours.

On that note, I can tell you about my experience with Bipolar Disorder II.

My feels don’t always correlate with the real world. Yes, the
feels are real, they just don’t line up with external events in terms of
cause or range.

The
“emotional-typical”

experience goes like this: something happens -> brain feels a thing. With my condition, it’s frequently in reverse: my brain feels a
thing -> brain goes looking for a cause.

You can probably guess that I wasted a lot of energy trying to
find causes for these inspirational/critical feels. And yeah, I
hacked up a few projects and relationships as a result.

I
can also tell you about extreme emotional ranges. Joy and rage and sadness and
inspiration that are magnitudes above the standard.

Your emo-typical person might experience these feels a few times in
their life – romance, heartbreak, births, marriages, deaths.

They are less likely to experience these feels because they just happened to glanced out a window and saw a
rainbow and now nothing will ever be as beautiful. Nor are they likely to start doubting their life choices because they stubbed
their toe and life is pain because they suck as a human being.

Anon, you need information before
you can take action.

Think of it like any other medical situation. If your
arm started feeling weird, you first action shouldn’t be to reset a bone. You get a scan.

This is the same. Find out what’s
happening first, then map out your options.

Again, I can only
base suggestions on my own experiences.

  1. I scheduled a visit with a GP.
  2. The GP gave me a referral to a psychologist for depression.
  3. This
    psychologist identified my symptoms as possibly relating to a
    condition outside depression. They referred me to a psychiatrist with a
    background in bipolar disorder.
  4. This psychiatrist diagnosed my bipolarity, then helped me map out
    the facts. What I had experienced, what the impacts had been.
  5. We then
    worked on preferred outcomes, and the options available to get there.
    Baby steps, week by week.

Anon,
I encourage you to do this sooner rather than later. The sooner you have the information,
the sooner you can map out changes that will help get
your life where you want it.

What
I do NOT recommend is just blanking your feels and muddling on. It
might feel like strength, but it’s not. That’s ignorance. And Anon, you don’t do ignorant. You want facts.

So get the information that will help you look after yourself, and those around
you.

Please feel free to get in touch if there’s anything you want to clarify, and please let me know how it goes!

The List

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  • You have leftover pizza in the freezer and no one else is going to eat it
  • You’ve found that one episode of Community you missed online
  • Your cat/dog/hamster needs petting/walking/lettucing
  • You want to know about the ampersand
  • And the interrobang, and how to draw it by hand
  • Also, what an umlaut is, where it came from, how to use it
  • Someone texted you and you haven’t texted them back yet
  • Stephen Fry’s still hosting QI and it’s up to the letter M and you want to see what they do for the finale of Z
  • You need to sort through the recyclables and make sure the plastics and the glass don’t get mixed up
  • You have washing on the line and no one’s gonna take it in for you
  • The plumber is due to come by on Monday
  • Creme eggs go on sale soon
  • You are going to make it through this year

These are all great reasons not to kill yourself. Big, small all between. If it keeps you moving, it’s a great reason, and I’m a huge fan.

What can you think of?

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Think Happy

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How many of us have heard that we need to “think happy”?

This
well-meaning idealism may come form a nice place. But it’s got to stop.
At best it is
misleading when being said to those of us with bipolar and cyclothymia. And at worst it’s dangerous bullshit that makes a bad situation worse.

Here’s where I think it comes from.

Research
into how our minds work have stumbled across a fancy notion –
neuroplasticity. The layman-friendly idea is that you  can change your
brain simply by thinking.

As often happens with breakthroughs,
this simplification gets taken outside its context. Sure, thinking
happy thoughts can improve moods. But it doesn’t mean that this is a
cure-all.

But people want simple.

They want easy. They want
something they can understand. They don’t want to spend time researching
bipolar disorder and cyclothymia. They don’t understand how important
it is for those of us living with it.

It’s not lazyness. It’s just a lack of information.

So they use the details they have to try and make what they think is a positive impact. They preach what they can understand, not realising its potential impact.

Here’s why it’s misleading.

Mindfulness
and cognitive behavioral therapy can help people. They can allow
practitioners to alter their mood by altering their thinking. From
experience, these practices deliver insight into moods and thought
patterns. And this lets me prepare in advance and react more
appropriately during a recognised up or down phase.

The practice of “thinking happy” sort of falls into this category.

But
my bipolaroid brain doesn’t always follow
the prescribes path as dictated by external and internal stimuli.

So I
can have insight. I can have control over my reactions. But these practices do not deliver a means to
control the mood itself. Meaning that for me, “thinking happy” just
doesn’t work in practice.

Hell, if we could think ourselves happy,
wouldn’t we?

Here’s why it’s dangerous bullshit.

If
I’m down, and I’m told to “think happy", it makes me feel helpless.

I
can try it. It doesn’t work. And that clear failure becomes just another
weight dragging me down. It also opens up a gap in understanding.
Suddenly, the well-wisher isn’t a bright face swimming in the dark seas offering help.
They’re yelling out “just don’t drown” from a passing yacht.

And that’s just insultingly unhelpful.

Why?
Because like many with this condition, I work for my happiness. I
stress and I measure and I build routines. I do yoga and meditate and
eat right and go above and beyond what I see others doing in the pursuit
of happiness.

I fight for my happiness every day. Every second.

That’s why
this well-wisher gets lumped in the “dangerous bullshit”  category.

Standing there with a sympathetic smile telling me that I can just
“think happy” is bordering on insulting. And that’s not something that
someone in my position needs.

Not that they know that. They don’t have to live like this.

Drowning isn’t normal. Yachts are normal.

So, what can we do?

Educate.

Talk them through the thought patterns. When you can.

Explain the actual work that
goes into becoming someone who can function as well as we can.

Try to make them understand the obstacles in our way.

Bring them into your world using analogies, and make them a champion of your daily struggle with thinking happy.

Maybe it will stick, maybe not.

But their involvement can be part of our happiness – if we can just get through to them.

Riding Shotgun

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So, your partner has Bipolar?

Welcome to a pretty exclusive club. Here are the rules.

Okay, not rules.

Guidelines.

Suggestions.

They’re
not complete. Everyone has their own stuff. And yeah, they don’t just
apply to bipolaroids. You can use them with other people as well.

This is not a trade. There are no guarantees. Providing
your bipolar partner with love and attention does not mean you will
contractually receive happy, lovey, flirty interactions. This is a relationship – and you are not owed anything. Hell,
if that’s you’re view of relationships, then I pity you. Instead, try
focusing on the joy you find in the loving acts you provide, and give
what you can because you want to.

Your presence is not always the beacon of light and joy you want it to be. Sometimes stuff just sucks. And guess what, buddy? You’re stuff. And your stuff-ness is out of your control. It’s not you . It’s just that you’re part of the space-time continuum.

You are not a mind reader.  Please don’t expect yourself to be one. Bipolaroids often find it hard to communicate. Up, down, recovering – it doesn’t matter. Sometimes we struggle. Don’t view our inability to interact as a personal attack. Instead,
think of it more like a bad Skype connection. The picture is there, and
we want to talk. It’s just that the data gets garbled.

You will not have the right answers. When a bipolaroid is up or down, our reality is light years away from yours. Offering advice to your bipolar partner feels like you are pointing out this gap. It
doesn’t matter what the advice is about – we feel angry, sad,
embarrassed or frustrated at this sudden sense of distance. One way
forward is to ask yourself what the best possible outcome is likely to
be from your interaction. If the outcome is positive – and the inclusion
of shouting and/or tears doesn’t diminish the result – then by all
means suggest away.

Being bipolar takes from us constantly. It demands time, patience, energy. In some cases, medical attention and time in bed. We are sorry for being so demanding. We hate it as much as you do. But we appreciate everything you give, when we can appreciate things. Picture this – you are enough for someone who frequently experiences highs that can topple mountains. You are awesome!

And finally, we can’t meet your expectations. They’re
in your head. That’s inaccessible to anyone short of a psychotherapist.
And besides, our heads don’t have space for them. They’re too full dealing with our own reality. Which you are a major part of. Instead, just get rid of them, and enjoy the fact that we want you on board with us. And we’ll do the same for you.

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Normal Operating Procedures

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Here’s the one big poopy thing about depression.

It stops normal operations.

  • You know you can do things. You’ve done them in the past.
  • You know you will do things. It’s built into you, and you will do them in the future.
  • You know you want to do things now. But you just don’t have the juice.

Depression overrides the normal operating procedures.

The condition (and it is a condition – it’s happening to you) resets the bar for getting things done.

And not just physical activities. Mental, personal and emotional activities.

How can you get through this stage?

Flip the script.

  1. Before, you wanted to be okay, but you still feel awful.
  2. After, you’ll be okay, but for now you goveyourself permission to feel poopy.

Does this make sense?

Let’s run through some more.

  1. Before, you know that doing something (anything!) would make you feel better, but you don’t know how to start
  2. After, you accept there’s not much “start”, so the idea of doing – while nice – is put aside for later.

Get it?

  1. You feel unloved. People do love you. You can’t feel it.
  2. That’s okay. Give yourself permission to feel that.
  1. You try to get well, but feel like your doomed to fail.
  2. That’s okay. Give yourself permission to feel that too.

By giving permission for these feeling to exist, you take control of what’s normal for you.

And there’s power in that.

Even if all you do with that power is give yourself permission to get better while covered in blankets. That is also okay. It is your choice how to operate until conditions improve.

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Flatlining

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I get up late in the afternoon.

Put clothing on my body. Put food in my face.

Log on to do work type things. Press buttons. Click images. Drag things from one folder to another.

Get up. Pee. Sit back down.

More buttons.

Food in face.

Headphones. Coffee.

Ah, what was that? Did I hear a heartbeat? Did something stir? An echo of how I used to be?

I know this feeling. I call it “flatlining”.

It’s the part of a depressive phase. It’s the bit where I’m not unhappy. But I’m not content. Everything just is.

And it’s dangerous.

My
brain wonder how long I have to put up with this mode of existence. How
many days of getting up, clothing and feeding myself simply because I
”should”? How many weeks of pressing buttons and getting up to pee? How
many months of crushing monotony where nothing stirs my soul?

I
can see the danger. I have been through this before. Chances are, if
you’re reading this, then you have too. You know why it’s dangerous.

So, how can you beat the flatline?

There
are three things I know help me get to grips with it. Not banish it.
There’s no cure that causes me to suddenly perk up and just be better.

Here they are.

Caffeine.
Drink coffee. Or tea. Nothing too sugary – that causes too big a high
and low – but with enough stuff just to elevate your metabolism. It’s
not the same as true excitement. But it does help lift the fog. A
little. Enough so that I feel like I have a grip on my choices.

Exercise.
Walking seems pointless, and lifting weights feels like a zero-sum
game. But the stress it puts on your body stimulates the metabolism
further, keeping things ticking over. I feel like this stops my body
from entering a state of sludge.

Sleep. When I hit the point
where I can not do things, sleep is great. It helps restore brain
function by removing cellular toxins generated by daily activities. It literally flushes the shitty bits out of your brain.

What is your favourite way of recovering from flatline?

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The Itch

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I’m sitting in my parents kitchen, drinking tea from an unfamiliar mug.

It’s comfortable, yet strange to be here.

And that’s why I came back.

I wanted distance. Perspective. A new view of the life I have built.

Because The Itch is back

I know it as a feeling of discontent.

I’m itching for change.

Clenched teeth, stiff neck, curled fists. The need to lash out and make make something – anything – happen.

It’s a form of hypomania.

Not the fast, happy, isn’t-life-amazing high you might think of.

Instead, I have a real sense of disconnect.

I’m moving too fast, wanting too much. Or more accurately, I want things at the right speed – but the universe is slow in making things happen.

That’s why I’m here.

I’m showing myself how much things have changed.

I’m examining the speed of my own progress. Trying to remind myself that fast doesn’t mean durable, desirable or great. And most importantly fast isn’t permanent.

Fast is just fast.

This does little to soothe the itch.

But it does mean I’m less likely to act without thinking things through.

Molasses

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You ever had to wade through molasses?

Or maybe tar? Or glue?

Me neither. But  know what it’s like.

A single step is an effort. Raising your hand or arm is tiring. Keeping your head up is exhausting.

Now, imagine if the molasses was on the inside.

Imagine it weighing things down. Normal automatic processes are harder. Your appetite slows. Breathing is a struggle. Smiling or looking someone in the eye is a titanic undertaking. The molasses makes everything heavier.

Now imagine the molasses in your head.

It binds to thoughts, slowing them to a standstill. Feelings get sucked under. Logic gets glued in place.

Any activity is a drain. It feels like there’s no action you can take that is going to be freeing, liberating, easy. Because even thinking is an effort. And forcing action is next to impossible.

This is depression.

You can’t fight it. Your body is too heavily bound. You can’t grin and bear it, because smiling sits heavily on your face. You can’t think your way out, because the thoughts are caught.

So, how do you get out?

By waiting.

The molasses isn’t going anywhere. But it’s also not a motive force. It weighs you down, but it is static.  By struggling, by resisting, you are tiring yourself out. Forcing painful friction. This pain adds to the inertia, making you feel worse.

Be still. Be accepting.

Look at where the molasses clings. Wait for gravity to do it’s thing. Observe it as it gathers and gloops and falls to the floor.

By being patient and present, you free yourself of the painful struggle. And when it is gone, you will have an appreciation for the freedom others can take for granted.

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No Filter

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I feel everything.

I’m operating without a filter. There’s
no time to stop and think. Events are moving too slowly. And while I
feel all the things, the overriding sense is one of urgency.

I must make things happen. I have so much energy. I can’t waste time on being nice, reasonable, a “good” person.

And the people around me suffer because I can’t stop to consider how I’m impacting their lives.

How can I handle so much energy?

I make lists. I write down everything that needs doing, and everything I want to do.

Then
I cut it down. Which ones matter? Which ones are feasible? Which ones
are going to have an awesome impact? Which ones will I regret not doing?

What does this do?

Culling the list forces me to concentrate on what matters. The list becomes an external filter.

Yes, I can still feel everything, but I can choose what to focus on.

And yes, the urgency is still there, but now it’s focused. Useful. Like a blowtorch rather than a firecracker. Directed.

With
my list in hand, I can get to grips with making things happen. I’m less
distracted. More accurate. And less likely to lash out in frustration.

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Superpowers

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I got bitten on the leg helping locals break up a dog fight.

I scraped my knuckles and grazed my chin trying to “persuade” a tourist that the object of his affection was not interested.
I got my heart broken waiting for the cutie with a pixie cut to leave with me, only to see her head off with someone else.

But I know what my problem is. I think I’m exceptional. As in, somehow the rules don’t apply to me.

Like I have some motive force that drives me on, tells me I’m special, that I can, should, need to do the thing.

Stand up straight, look death and dismay in the eye, don’t blink. I’ll be fine. I have superpowers.

But I don’t. It’s just hypomania.

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