Day 1: I had to look once…

Day 1 in the Facebook experiment.  As a self-prescribed social media addict I can say it’s annoying trying to quit.

I’ve posted only one or two articles from my new administrator account for my business page, and they aren’t getting any views.  I’m worried that because my new account isn’t the owner of the business page it’s not posting correctly.  So to calm my worry about this potential issue I had to log back in under the “real” me.  To be honest I still can’t tell you if posting to the business in the new way is affecting performance or not.  Facebook is so damn confusing and I think they do it on purpose.

I’m noticing that I’ve grabbed my phone quite often throughout the day to for no reason.  I assume the reason I’m grabbing it is because I’m looking to “check” Facebook. But since the app is not on my phone and I’ll soon be “gone” I just put it down.  I have checked other forms of social media on my phone more often than I usually do.  Namely Instagram. I think my brain is searching for distraction in the form of stimulation, which is kind of pathetic when I think about it.  

After dinner I’m doing the dishes and I’m thinking about my friends on Facebook.  What are they saying, how was their day?My book club friends might not remember to tell me which book we are reading this month…should I log in and tell them not to forget me!?  No.  I can simply text one of them and find out.

Bedtime was easier than I thought it would be, and I probably slept better too.  I didn’t have anything to scroll through for an hour while laying in the dark.  I probably fell asleep within 15 minutes.

Anxiety is still there, but I made it through the day!

-M

Untitled

Some will take you only as you appear.

Others will take you as you truly are.

In one moment you can go from an “amazingly talented professional woman,” to the “crazy girl.”

The distinction between the two is nothing other than you sharing who you really are, and the conclusion is subjective. It’s not fair because your behavior hasn’t changed at all, and all you can do is have faith that others will see that there really is no difference between the two.

So proud of my remission was I, that I blindly let a man take me down.  Well, he didn’t mean to… but here is the thing I have learned about dating. It involves drinking, staying up WAY too late, still getting up early for work, and a lot of befuddled communication.

None of those things are productive for someone with bipolar.

So now, I finally feel confident enough in this guy to tell him I have bipolar, but I am in a vulnerable and insecure state at the moment.

A lot has changed.  I quit my part time job to attempt my business full time, and in the process I have lost some companionship with my former coworkers.  It gets a bit lonesome working for yourself.  I have become well recognized in the city that I have been working in as I have designed a public space and  everywhere I go I am introduced, announced, applauded, and looked at – something I have never experienced before.  People are praising me and I literally don’t know how to react.  I struggled for so many years to find my place in design and I finally have it and I feel frozen in terror for not knowing how to respond socially or professionally.  Thousands of people have seen my drawings, and many of them are asking for my card.  I am about to grow into a real business, I’ve even secured an intern.

This is really overwhelming.  All the while, I have no one to share this experience with.  No one to understand how you can be happy and petrified all at once.  This business is just mine.  No one else can fully grasp this feeling.  I should be thrilled, and I just want to hide behind the scenes and wait for it to end.  People can see my drawings and say my name all day long, I just don’t want to have to shake their hand and stand in front of a crowd of people all looking at me with a dumbfounded, petrified look on my face.  And this man, he is one of those people looking… he has been so instrumental in giving me praise and toting me around at networking introducing me to the some really influential people.  Beaming and looking so wonderfully into my eyes because no one knows what he and I are doing; and it feels good to the the twinkle in someone else’s eye.

So I have to tell him.  He thinks I am this courageous and unfaltering businesswoman / interior designer, and I just don’t want to hide anything from him.  My anxiety is pretty moderate, where it had been non-existent for months.  My depression is detectable, yet not quite noteworthy.  And my paranoia, well, let’s just say its back.

When I tell him I am nervous, unable to make eye contact, and I feel weak and worthless saying the words.  In other dating situations I have boldly stated my circumstance and have been accepted… everything was going wonderfully with this man.  And now I haven’t heard from him in a few days.

He has not returned the two texts I sent.  One regarding a big launch he was set to have at his job, and another a day later inviting him to join friends later in the week for a drink.  So when I say he “hasn’t returned my texts” I want to state that I’m not in panic mode sending out dozens of ‘needy, clingy, girl’ texts.  And I know better.

But the striking thing is that this three day lapse in response (with my noticing that he received and began to respond to the second message and then bailed) has caused a wave of distress in my day today.  I left my business today to have a pedicure and wine, I have been bugging my friends all day about it, hoping for some answer that makes sense, I even texted my ex for advice.

And that is when it hit me.

I am not well.  

It is not this wonderfully supportive and intelligent, charismatic man that is causing this stress.  It is my monster.  Perhaps this man has been dissuaded by my revelation of my illness, or maybe he is just busy and hates texting (as he has stated to me several times in person).  But either way, it is not okay for me to be this distressed about this situation.  So anxious that I am unable to get work done.  So much so that I texted my horrible excuse of a man ex, for dating advice.

Men are my trigger, and my ex is my “safe haven.”  When things go wrong with a potential suitor I go running back for validation from all of my friends, but I am never satisfied until I hear my ex tell me to calm the fuck down and give me his approval.  There are a multitude of things that are wrong with this, but at least I have recognized a pattern.  And when you are bipolar a pattern can be a saving grace.

The things that keep me healthy have fallen to the wayside.  This pubic project has put me at so many hours I haven’t been to yoga in two months.  I have run only a handful of times in those months as well.  I have stayed up into the wee morning hours working on presentations, gone to networking and drank far too much alcohol, stayed out too late with this man on occasion, still made time for friends, and I looked around me today and just said, “enough.”

It has to go back to just me.

I am still upset about him, and worried that he has changed his feelings for me because I am bipolar, but really in the end its not so much a potential rejection that hurts with this.  It is knowing that one little fact about yourself can change the way an entire human being thinks of you.  No matter how talented, impressive, kind, caring, funny, or wonderful you are…you could be bipolar.  And suddenly all of those other qualities disappear, leaving you with only one descriptor.

-M

Acceptance Letter to My Illness

Dear Bipolar Disorder,

While you were not initially welcomed with open and loving arms into my life, I have since come to terms with the fact that you and I are lifelong partners.  I am sorry that it took me so long to realize that I needed to listen to you and learn from you, so that I could better help you.

You are pretty tricky, my friend.  Sometimes you keep me up all night when I need sleep the most, and other times you make me so tired I can’t get out of bed all day long.  You make me grumpy with people who mean no harm, and you constantly encourage me to question myself and my judgment.

Not everyone likes you.  Many of my friends and boyfriends have packed up and left for good because you reared your ugly head too many times and they just couldn’t take it anymore.  It is better now that we found out what medication routine works best for keeping your irrationality at bay.  The ECT really knocked you on your ass a little bit it that regard.

Sometimes you lie to me.  Sometimes you make me think that I am worthless, and that life is not worth living.  You make me doubt my greatness, and question my inherent talents.  And other times you lie to me in a way that makes me feel too good about myself.  You tell me that I am so great and build up my ego so much that I do some pretty crazy things and other people don’t react well to that.

Overall though, I am glad that I have you in my life.  Because once I learned how to start managing you and taking charge a little bit, I found that I wasn’t meant to fit into the normal measures of success that most people are.  You and I are not meant to work a 9-5, and being told what to do by someone else just really isn’t our style either.

If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have started my interior design business.  I wouldn’t have discovered how many things I am great at, and how much I love making my clients’ homes beautiful.

If it weren’t for you, Bipolar Disorder, I would have a bunch of friends in my life that don’t actually accept me for who I really am.  When I made the decision to be completely public about my illness is when my life changed the most.  And it was for the better.  Because of you, the friends I have are my true friends, thick and thin, and the man that I find will love me for who I really am as well.  Because of you I have been given the blessing of helping others by giving advice when they have mental health concerns or questions.

Let’s be friends from now on.  I know we are going to have some really shitty times ahead of us, and some pretty awesome ones too.  But I am not going to fight you anymore.  I am going to work with you, listen to what you are trying to tell me, and give you the attention that you need.  No alcohol when we are depressed, no coffee in the summer days when there is a lot of light in the sky, and no jumping right back to work after crossing time zones for travel.  I will try my best to give you exercise and keep going to acupuncture because I know you are really balanced when I do those things in addition to feeding you the medication that you need.

Yours Truly,

-M

I might just YOGA my way to sanity.

I am no expert.  I only go once a week to a class at the local recreation center because it is all I can afford and if I miss a class I don’t feel guilty for ditching on a membership, since it is a drop in fee.

Here is the deal.  I learned that there are like a million and one different ways to practice yoga…okay really I have no idea how many different practices there are.  But I have found that the high-intensity ones are great to kick you out of a depression, but terrible if you are feeling anxious or manic.  However, no matter the way I feel, the calm and relaxing style of yoga has uplifted me, got me moving, breathing, and being mindful on a regular basis.

I am not calling for all yogis or gurus to sit here and correctly list off the terminology or tell me that I should know better what I am talking about, that is my disclaimer here.  So if you are some expert, please stop reading and find the next blog to waive your opinion around on.

I am bipolar.  And this shit is AWESOME!  I found a class that not only is gentle, but it both stimulates my body and calms my mind at the same time.  (This is entirely possible, I swear).  I feel like I can go there and come out cleansed and renewed, and I can technically call it one of my four required workouts for the week!  Score 100 points here!

Some of these positions are really easy and you find out, “Wow, my body is so capable.”  Other positions are just twisted and rather difficult and you think, “Oh my God, that 50 year old woman can touch the floor and I can’t even get past my knees!”

Anyway, today I had this thought, because I am not very religious: this is a very spiritual practice, this yoga.

You only do what you are capable of, and you find the boundary within your body and just challenge it as much as you are comfortable with.  You shut up for one hour and you only TRY, that is all you are asked to do.  You try the pose and you do the best you can.  And sometimes when you first try the pose you are falling over sideways looking like a fool, but you get back into it and it is somehow easier.

It challenges you, it puts you in an uncomfortable place because life puts us in many uncomfortable places.  The point is, you get good at feeling uncomfortable in Yoga, and you just might become better at feeling uncomfortable in life.

At the end you lie still and are guided through what a psych would call a “mindfulness exercise” but this is called savasana “corpse pose.”  You just lay there and don’t think…which is actually surprisingly easy after all those crazy moves and stretches.  (Even when anxious or hypo-manic I have been able to shut off for this brief period). If you start a thought, you just tell your self “thinking” and let it float away.  Then the instructor guides you back into your surroundings and allows you to slowly become aware of your intention and body.  This practice has been happening for like…well…a really damn long time, I don’t really care to look it up to be honest.  What I care about is that it works and I am in love and see major benefits for mental health and physical health.

My favorite part is when you put your hands to your heart at the end.  Because the instructor always says something super inspiring and awesome!  I’ve been given goosebumps, brought to tears, and felt open and utter happiness in this moment, depending on the day.  Today we just took in the energy that we were giving off and bowed with positive intention for everyone in the class.

Either way, I always leave feeling thankful and wishing I could go the next day too!  And NO DOCTOR has ever suggested this to me, so I am suggesting it to you.

With love and good energy for you and your personal journey toward healing.

Namaste,

-M

I am writing a book

Yes you read that correctly.

I started last night, but have been contemplating this endeavor for years.  I’m not quite sure how to explain it, but I need to share this knowledge and this passion I’ve developed over the last 12+ years.   So last night I started answering some questions I found online for people who think they are serious about writing a book, and the last one is what I want to share with you today.

Why now?

My cousin, who is 10 years younger than me, attempted suicide a few weeks ago.  I wrote him an incredibly long email and realized that I was telling him all of the things I wish someone would have told me.  But most importantly, I wanted to tell him that it was going to be okay.  That he was going to get through this and the next bad dip too.  I wanted him to know that it was okay if the meds didn’t work, or if people treated him differently.  It is okay to be annoyed and mad when people walk around on eggshells with you and try to take everything away from you like you are a child once you are recovered, etc.  I wanted to hand him this book and say, “Here, let me read this to you,” only its not yet written.

———-

I may need some help from you guys and you might find me polling on topics like drug / substance abuse, or seasonal changes, etc.  But the aim here is to help.  When I was first diagnosed I was 19, and I had no one in my family or circle of friends who had any knowledge let alone experience of this.  I wanted a person to go to to say, “I’m thinking these thoughts,” or ” feel like I have been hit by a bus,” and have them say how that was expected, that was normal, and it would pass and be okay.  I want this book to be that friend, that comfort, that one quiet moment during a crazy place in your mind.

-M

The letter

My counselor suggested I write to him. All the things he won’t give me the opportunity to say as I look him in the eye.

I did it. It’s three pages long, but there is more I want to add. After all, if I never see him again I want to know there was nothing else I held in my heart. We’ve both done that before, that’s why we tried again in the first place… We were holding on.

She said to send it with no expectation of him responding. I told him everything I could, and I cried my eyes out the whole time I was writing.

It feels much better getting the anger and sadness out. Knowing, or at least telling myself, that he will read it.

I miss him and I always will. But it’s time to move forward with my life. Time to find a man that loves me even when my monster comes out to play. Someone who can see those early signs and help carry me over them rather than pull away.

He’s out there. Somewhere.

-M