A pill a day helps keep the temper away

I've always had a temper, this much I admit. I take after my Italian father. Always have, always will. Now that he's gone, I'm proud of this trait from him. However, as long as it's under control, it's OK. Sometimes a temper can be a good thing—again, as long as it's under control and doesn't affect anyone around you, why not?


For me, my temper involves keeping myself on the up-and-up. Keeps me in control of my thoughts and my ideas. For the most part, I keep my temper bottled up inside of me, not on the outside.


Sound weird? For me, no. For others, possibly.


Most of the time, it's because my mind is racing with many thoughts, and I never know how to contain them. For example, this morning I'm feeling so creative and so inspired that I just can't control them. I've been writing them down all morning to keep them in check because I want to execute all of them, so I know in order to do so—and not forget these inspirations and ideas—I must do it this way. This was also recommended by my therapist as well as my "drug dealer" (my psychiatric nurse).


However, in the past year or less, my temper has escaped me—verbally and emotionally. I have been unable to restrict it, to the point that it has bled into my family as well. 


This is not good.

Although verbally I have taken it out on my daughter many times, she hasn't judged me for this behavior—for now. I've never hurt her, nor will I ever, but acting this emotion out on her is something I will always regret. She is a strong girl and will most likely grow into a strong woman as a result of this—am I proud? absolutely not—but no child should ever have to endure the verbal pain that I have caused her.

As I was growing up, I witnessed my father's temper on many occasions, but as far as I know, he was not suffering from bipolar disorder. Just like me, he has never taken out this aggression on me or my brother physically. Is that an excuse for me? Maybe not, I don't know. But I do know this, I wanted it to stop and it had to stop immediately!


My temper mainly involved myself and nobody else. I was frustrated with everything and everyone around me. I was a walking time bomb waiting to explode. Instead, they mostly imploded inside of my body and my mind, until I decided to release them, thus affecting my family.


I wanted to hit the wall. I wanted to hit anything around me. Hence turning to hit myself instead. For me, at that time, I knew if I didn't hit myself, who knows who I would have hit in retaliation of my soul. During that time, that was a safe alternative for me.


It had gotten so bad, that I contemplated—not acted out—thoughts of suicide. I wanted the pain to end and it needed to end STAT! I didn't know what else to do. I was desperate.


Hitting myself was the safest way to act out, this much I know, but I was depressed and I was frustrated. Frustrated to the extent of sadness and an eternal episode of crying and internal mourn.


As the months progressed and quickly passed me by, I knew I needed to do something drastic so I could change my actions, for my family's sake. 


What turned into weeks felt like an eternity for me. We were all anxious for me to get better and move forward with my life, so thankfully because my unemployment benefits were in full force, I was able to collect a 'paycheck' as I continued to try and get healthy. We all felt that during that tumultuous time in my life, holding a job would have been near impossible. I was very lucky.


After I had my first few appointments, I was on my way to getting my health and my sanity back—no pun intended. I was optimistic.


A few weeks later, my medication was starting to work and I immediately noticed that my agitation and temper had almost completely subsided. I was relieved! Life was looking a lot brighter for me. But I still had a long way to go. I never gave up and I never wanted to stop going to my regular therapy appointments and seeing my "drug dealer." I knew it was a huge step in the right direction for me.


Today I can proudly say that my temper has almost disappeared. Although I did have a blip a few weeks ago—nothing to the magnitude of my regular episodes as before—am I almost free of my grumpy irritability.


Thank you to my "drug dealer" for making me better!


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What's it like, you know...to be Bipolar?

I sometimes wonder if the year is 1912 or 2012. I always feel like, even in this day and age, that people still don't get Bipolar Disorder. They don't 'get' what it's about. After all these years, all the breakthroughs of modern medicine, they still think you're a "psycho." It's still unacceptable to be bipolar, and people still use the phrase "why are you so bipolar today?" Like it's an adjective. 

Is it OK to insinuate that someone is suffering from Bipolar Disorder because they're a little off? Or maybe because they're up and down with their mood? Or my personal favorite, because the weather is cloudy and dreary so they're going to have a "bipolar day?" 

Ahhh such ignorance in our society. Even today, in 2012 it still exists.

That frightens me. Scares me to think that even as my daughter matures and grows into a woman, that she herself could face life in this ignorant world. We always seem to think we have evolved as a society, when in reality, we have only gone backwards.

I'm embarrassed to admit, especially from someone who has been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder since 2004, that I just recently learned that Bipolar Disorder is not a psychological/psychiatric "problem," but a medical illness; a disease. It took many decades, if not centuries, for the medical communities to realize that Diabetes wasn't psychiatric/psychological, but a medical illness/diasease as well. Look at the breakthroughs with Diabetes? I only hope the same breakthroughs will emerse as the studies and treatments for Bipolar Disorder progress, where the judgment and discriminatory attitude will fade and acceptance will be great. But even after all this time, after everything that has been studied and learned about Bipolar Disorder, people still criticize you for something you cannot control. 

Imagine sitting in a job interview and openly saying, "oh, have I mentioned that I have Bipolar Disorder and I will need to take my medication regularly"—what they would say, or worse, if you would even be offered the job? However, someone with Diabetes turning around and saying the exact same thing, would almost be sympathized with instead.

Why are people suffering from Bipolar Disorder looked down upon? What makes us so different from anybody else with a medical illness/disease? We can't control it because aren't we born this way?

If you haven't yet seen the movie, A Beautiful Mind with Russell Crowe, I beg of you to rent it or download it NOW. It shows a man, a mathematical genius who suffers from schizophrenia, Dr. John Nash, in the 1950s. Back when the common 'medication' was shock treatments. It's a heartwarming story, but a story of sadness and despair at the same time. This was before what doctors even knew what schizophrenia was like, or what it involved. Like schizophrenia, bipolar disorder is not curable, but treatable. 

As I started my medication in the past few months I admit, that sometimes I feel like a pharmacist as I look down into my hand at all of those pills and how I have to pop them in my mouth every single day. It's tough because I went from a woman never having to take any pills, to taking a handful everyday and every night. It has turned into an eye opening experience. 

But I continue to take them because I feel and see the results. I now know that they are working; working to make me better and enrich my life even more. I feel happier than I've felt in a very long time. Listening to my husband repeatedly tell me how he's happy to have "me back" and feeling back to 'normal' again is tough to hear, I know this, but after the past year or so, how things have escalated and have gotten worse in our lives, only makes me aware of what he and my daughter have had to endure and live through for so long. Writing this blog is making me recognize it and see it all over again. As I sit and write it all down and relive it all over again, has become very emotional for me, not just in my mind, but in my heart. I know it's beneficial so I will continue on and know that it will only help in my recovery.

It's real. It has been an emotional rollercoaster.

I have to overcome my fear of what "people will think" about me. Otherwise I will drive myself crazy. I have spent an entire lifetime worrying about what other people think, but I can no longer worry about them, but worry about myself, my family and my support group. I have to move forward for myself—I need to think and do for myself first before I can do for others. I have spent too many years putting myself last, and others first. Others that don't even matter in my life.

Can I do this? Can I really do this? Only time will tell.

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