Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth." Genesis 9:13

Monday, January 16, 2006

And in the Beginning

I fear writing this. In fact writing this has taken nearly 2 months. All my caution says to wait for a better day, an asymptomatic day. But it is best to be as I really am, and today is one of the real me's.

Welcome to a world where nothing is the same twice. Where nothing is the way it "should be". Where some days I will make great sense, and the next day understanding me will require you to sort out the extraneous information my brain can't.

I am Just Me. I live with bipolar disorder. Specifically I have bipolar I disorder, rapid cycling, with severe mixed episodes. (In English, I have the more serious form of bipolar disorder, my moods shift rapidly (often every few days and at times even more frequently), and when I am at my sickest I am both manic and depressed at the same time. Mania for me is not what people generally think of; I am extremely, tortuously anxious, irritable, impulsive with my anger, and I do not sleep. Calming these states require antipsychotics, none of which I tolerate well and so I put off taking them as much as possible.) Combined with a host of medication allergies and meds that do not affect me, I'm every psychiatrist's nightmare, at least on paper.

On the other hand, I am every psychiatrist's dream patient. I have been blessed with some biological gift of functioning in parts of my brain that should not function. I have never done many things bipolar patients are known for. The worst impulsive spending spree was when I bought a tv I wasn't sure I was going to get before the mania hit and then adopted 2 scrawny, sick cats and bought tons of cat toys for them. The vet bills were painful, but compared to a car they were nothing. And that move sealed my diagnosis, made it very real to me that I had to always be careful, and so far I have succeeded. I have never touched drugs or alcohol. I take my medications almost every day, and when I miss I usually have good reason. I often can know what med adjustments need to be made from how I feel. This is a big help when trying new things can begin 6 months of torture for all around me.

But I am so much more than the illness. I live every single day, and every day I get in-your-face reminders of how very blessed I am. Parts of what I write will be about my limitations. They are huge. However, every day I live behind my mask, the mask which hides the greatest irony of all: I am a mental health professional, and I spend all day every day working with 150 of the most severely affected schizophrenic and bipolar patients in this state.

My story is about learning to live with an illness. It's about succeeding despite the "shouldn't"'s surrounding my disease. It's about the experience of learning that faith means not planning for life, but trusting that God's will can be good, even when it is the opposite of what ever seemed a possibility for my life.

I was diagnosed late for someone with the severity of the illness I have. I had to learn to give up many prejudices about the illness I had developed during years of education. Almost 4 years post diagnosis I am a well-educated, succeeding so far, responsible, independent adult, working in a highly stressful environment daily. Through this blog I hope that I can help others learn a broader perspective on bipolar patients than I have faced over and over from healthcare professionals during this experience, and also a broader perspective than I admittedly had myself. My dream is to live in a world where every time a bipolar patient cries those who work with them do not blame it on cycling, but allow them to have normal emotions as well. I also hope to meet others like myself, to gain a wider perspective, as I have never met anyone with the kind of symptoms I have who does what I do. I want to know other mentally ill mental health workers, as well as others.

I will stop now. Today I made myself manic via accidental (really, it's not fun and I would never do it on purpose) caffeine ingestion. I had very little sleep last night and did not stop moving all day. Or talking. A lot. About nothing.

1 comment:

W. Throckmorton said...

Wonderful beginning. Really. I see how helpful this could be.