Blog Challenge Day 5: Biggest Fear

Yes, I've been tardy with and fallen several days behind on this blog challenge.  Which simply means that I need to make an effort to catch up and this is precisely what I am about to do.

Why have I fallen off the radar?  To be quite frank, I have been having mixed episodes for days and have not felt up to dealing with the world, even writing something that others might read seemed too overwhelming.  Mixed episodes are, in my experience, the worst part of having bipolar disorder.  For me, over the past several days, my moods have run the gamut from waking up sad and physically fatigued (far beyond feeling "sleepy"), having sparks of what seemed like utter brilliance that fizzled out just as quickly as my focus was nonexistent and motivation also vanished as quickly as it had appeared.  I between all of these were hours of depersonalization, which you can read about here.  Of the five symptoms listed, I suffer from the bottom three.

Am I simply rambling, as I so often do?  Not exactly.  My illness is at the very root of my biggest fear, which isn't my phobia of chimpanzees (and most primates) as some people who know me may expect.

My biggest fear is that I will never be able to find, let alone hold onto, the thing I want most in this world.  A husband and children.  Having a family.  Whatever my positive or exceptional qualities, they come with counterweights that may not always balance.  I feel that expecting another person to have that level of patience and the never ending desire to understand is unfair and expecting far too much.

Although my medications are beyond invaluable to managing my illness and I have made consistent progress in my life (although apparently not quickly enough for some people) that does not mean I will never have episodes.  It doesn't mean that my eccentricity with disappear (living alone for nearly a decade straight is fertile soil to grow eccentricity mental illness or no).  Sometimes I will be impossible to fathom.  It simply doesn't seem right to expect someone else to be prepared for any weather that may transpire.

With the exception of my dogs, I expect that I will always be alone.

This is my biggest fear.

For more Day 5 Blog Challenge posts click below:
Yvonne's Post
Danielle's Post for Day 5 and 6

Sunsets and Sunrises

Sometimes you glide so slowly from one chapter of your life into the next that you barely notice you've turned a page until the plot suddenly feels unfamiliar.

Other times the door slams.  So you shrug, slide the deadbolt, turn your back and then walk off into the sunset like the end of a spaghetti western.

After experiencing the former over the course of the past two or three years to the point that I barely recognize myself (which has its pros and cons), the latter came out of nowhere recently.  I do understand how difficult I am to care about, especially when I unexpectedly isolate people.  Sometimes it is out of depression; sometimes it's because my moods are cycling for weeks and I don't want other people to have to deal with that; sometimes I just want to be alone because I'm feeling good, doing well, like where I am at the moment, and feel like being around others will get me off-track.  But it's never personal and doesn't mean I don't care, although I can see why other people may take it that way when I don't communicate. 

At this point, it is what it is and I've already swiftly moved on because that's what I do.  This blew up?  Doesn't seem fixable?  Okay, what's next?

In other news I've been tiptoeing on the line between identifying myself as a Buddhist or a Buddhist leaning Agnostic.  That is an entirely different post for another day (which I will hopefully write in the few days if I can keep my writing momentum going).  Suffice to say that I've slipped pretty firmly back into Agnostic territory.  Partially because my views regarding food, specifically the karma of hunting animals for food and the act of eating animals in a more general sense.  This has been a source of conflict in my mind and heart for years now.  My views on the ethics, sustainability, and humane (or inhumane) nature of food sources haven't changed as much as sorted themselves out into a cohesive set of principles.  Perhaps this is a peripheral effect of sorting my brain out in the broader scheme of things.

On the topic of brains, mine has been doing pretty well even during the recent personal upheaval.  My Lamictal dosage was recently increased from 200mg to 300mg and although I am only on Day Seven of the transition I am already noticing a significant difference even with the accompanying side effects.  This is par for the course and most vanish or decrease within a week or so.  Now that it's been a week my constant fatigue is becoming sporadic, my energy is increasing, and my ability to focus has improved quite a bit. 

Another new development in the realm of mental health is that I've found an AMAZING online Bipolar Disorder support group which I am so extremely grateful for.  Being understood is important to everyone, but even more so for people who have Bipolar Disorder.  Unless you have experienced what this illness feels like firsthand there is really no way to understand completely what we go through no matter how much you read, research, try to understand and try to show compassion.  Believe me, we ALL appreciate when those around us do what they can to support us and really try.  I know that isn't remotely easy and most of the time there really isn't much you can do.  Finding a group of people where you have the safety to speak openly, vent, and express yourself without fear of judgment is without parallel.  The therapeutic benefit is enormous.

The title of one of my all-time favourite novels seems an appropriate phrase to conclude this post:

The Sun Also Rises

TED Talk: Ruby Wax on Mental Illness

Below is the link to an absolutely brilliant TED talk given by Ruby Wax on the subject of mental illness.

One of the best points she made is that when someone has a physically visible illness or injury, the outpouring of sympathy can be (and often is) enormous.  You break your leg or are diagnosed with a chronic illness and everyone is sending flowers, cards, visiting you, offering to walk your dog and water your plants, etc.  The difference?  A broken leg is an injury that heals and you're more likely to get loving care & support from a broken leg than a nervous breakdown.

Like any chronic illness, mental illnesses and disorders require doctors, medications, and treatment plans.  Unlike other chronic illnesses our symptoms manifest in thoughts, feelings, words, and actions because it is our brain that is the affected organ.  Yet even when our illness is known by those around us we're accused of being melodramatic or making things up.  Of being selfish jerks or not trying hard enough because we fail to meet our obligations or disappoint those around us.

The worst is being told to "snap out of it" as if it's something we could overcome if we simply applied ourselves.  Or to "perk up" (as Ruby Wax put it) when we're depressed.  Because if that was possible, we would never have thought of that!  Right?!

Not that the insensitivity of others is deliberate even though it is still hurtful.  Most of my family doesn't know or doesn't want to talk about it or thinks of my bipolar disorder as something in the past that I've "grown out of " or that my symptoms will entirely go away because I'm on medication.

By the way... those last two items?   Not even remotely true; that's the thing with many chronic illnesses: they don't go away and they don't have a cure.

Enough of my pontificating.  Onto the video!  I guarantee you will enjoy it, laugh a few times, and quite possibly learn a few things while you're at it.

 Ruby Wax: What's So Funny About Mental Illness?

(Click the link above to view video.)

Ebb and Flow - Living with Bipolar Disorder

I find it incredibly amusing that I just "Liked" the Bipolar Disorder disease definition page on Facebook.  Yes, I already posted a status update referencing the act on Facebook this morning.  This post is a continuation of a topic that cannot be fully expressed in three sentences.

Do I really "Like" having Bipolar Disorder?

My answer may surprise you.

Overall, yes.  If I could wake up tomorrow and choose whether or not to have Bipolar Disorder I would choose to keep my chronic illness.

That may sound "crazy," (haha!) but although it has made my life extremely challenging and often so overwhelming I can barely function, I don't think I would be "myself" without it.  Yes, I'd love to do away with some of the more severe symptoms but not all of them are negative or debilitating.

I do associate my level of intelligence and creativity as being symptomatic of the disease (science tends to support this, as well).  My brain processes and cross-references new information rapidly; this also manifests in rapid speech which often gets on the nerves of those around me (sorry about that).  Sure, I also have had insomnia for over 15 years, chronic fatigue that accompanies depression, and the tendency to get irritated with a quickness (however, I also get over it and let it go of it just as speedily).  Some days I can't pry myself out of bed and the very thought of having to talk to people in person, over the phone or text message, via email or Facebook causes almost paralyzing anxiety.

I've also avoided entering into serious relationships due to bad experiences such as being dumped as soon as I told my significant other that I have this disease because of "what might happen" or "what I might do" in the future.  Being summarily discarded for such an excuse is discouraging no matter how unfounded it is.  I've also been dumped or had people lose interest as soon as they discover that I'm bisexual as if that means I am incapable of monogamy or faithfulness... which couldn't be further from the truth.  I am attracted to both men and women, but I don't require one of each as a life partner to have a happy, fulfilling life.  Yes folks, I'm old-fashioned, monogamous, want to get married, and have children.  This is probably not very surprising to anyone who knows me well.

(I do think it's an interesting fact that I am bipolar, bisexual, and ambidextrous.  Does that mean something?  Who knows.  It's still amusing to ponder, though.)

Since I have talked about this as much as I feel like doing today, I would like to conclude with recommending the video below.  If you haven't seen this interview with Stephen Fry talking about his *Bipolar Disorder, please take a few minutes to check it out.  It is one of the best first-hand explanations I have come across that tries to express to people who do not have the illness what it actually feels like.

*Note: Bipolar Disorder and Manic Depression are the same thing.

2012 In Retrospect

The 365 days which make one year don't seen sufficient to hold the enormity of change and personal progression that occurred during 2012.

My dog rescue saved 41 dogs since November 2011.  I moved from a second floor studio apartment to a studio in a duplex to the adorable little one bedroom casita (sort of like a cottage) with a yard that I live in now.

I got a "regular" full-time job, then got laid off because the company is run by a bunch of 25-year-olds with no business acumen.

Lola Lulu turned 2 in January and Gatsby turned 7 in August.

I rescued Jack Lemon on May 29th.  He died of cancer on October 17th.  From him began my new-found and surely lifelong love of English pointers (especially the lemon and white Elhew ones).

A lot of other things happened that already seem firmly in the past.  I finally sought professional treatment for my bipolar disorder and am doing really well on medication.  I have even been dealing with the post-losing-my-job-right-before-the-holidays depression fairly well.  I also wrote about my illness publicly for the first time ever and feel a lot more comfortable about it in general.  I started biking, running, and moderating my caffeine and alcohol intake.

But some of the most meaningful the things I will take with me from 2012 are not even things that I experienced myself.  They are all events experienced by friends of mine in that last week or two and I think they reveal that which is real and true about people and life far more than the my personal triumphs and hardships.  I may not get all the details just right, but I don't think that will impair the message.

A very good friend of mine is a prosecutor and had to work on Christmas Eve, which she was not at all happy about.  It was nearing the end of the day and the last case she had was an older man who had been charged with theft.  For stealing two hot dogs from a convenience store because he was hungry.  He was quiet and clearly very embarrassed.  The police report stated that he broke down in tears when talking with the officers and explaining his circumstances.  And here he was, on Christmas Eve, waiting for what would likely be punishment for his "crime."  Instead, she dismissed the case, hugged him, said "God bless" and wished him a Merry Christmas.

Another friend was at an arcade with her children and noticed a young boy by himself who seemed to be enjoying watching them and others play the various games/video games.  He didn't take a turn at the games himself and didn't ask anyone for money.  When they were ready to leave, she put money into the machine and told him, "it's all yours."

Outside of a convenience store another friend saw a college aged man sitting on the sidewalk in shorts and flip flops.  In the middle of December!  When she asked if he was alright, he told her he'd been evicted from his apartment and while he had friends who would let him shower or stop by to eat or sleep on occasion, he didn't have anywhere to go.  He asked for some money because he hadn't eaten that day.  Instead, she took him inside and bought him lunch.  Guess what he wanted?  Two hot dogs.

If there is a moral to these stories it is probably something along the lines of how a small kindness when given is a large kindness when received.

A Coming Out, of Sorts

Recently I have written about my diagnosis of exercise induced (and allergy aggravated) asthma, which I am still learning to manage in conjunction with my fitness journey.

However, the medical diagnosis which has most affected every facet of my life and which I have never spoken or written about publicly is Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder.  I was first diagnosed around 15 years ago and struggled with it for many years afterward.  I have been re-diagnosed twice since then, most recently by my current psychiatrist (whom I only told I had "depression" but who properly diagnosed me anyway).

It's taken years for me to feel comfortable enough to write about my experiences, past and present, and in what ways my coping (and often lack thereof) have shaped my life.  I am currently on medication and along with meditation, healthy eating, avoiding excess of alcohol/caffeine (which I'm not always successful at...), and making exercise & physical fitness a priority, I am managing my Bipolar Disorder better than I ever have in my life.

Through my writing I hope to paint a different picture of what most people think of when they hear the words "Bipolar Disorder."  I don't feel like the stigma associated with mental illness is as pervasive as it once was, but it still persists.  I've been dumped by a boyfriend simply because I admitted to him that I have it; even though no incident had happened, he feared what "might happen" or what I "might do" someday.  And that was enough to send him packing.

If you would like to read more about what Bipolar Disorder really entails and about the various types, please read NIMH's page.  It's an excellent and detailed resource on the topic.

My name is Garnet Scarabin and I am a writer, a dog rescuer, an excellent cook, a vintage culture aficionado, a soon-to-be runner, a good friend, I hold down a good job, and I have Bipolar Disorder.

(I'm also lactose intolerant, but that's a lot less sensational.)