Fifty Shades of Bipolar Disorder

To even narrow this number down to fifty would be a challenge. There are so many different facets of bipolar disorder, that most of us—not even those of us suffering from this disease—will ever lay witness to. For most 'victims', it's buried deep within our brains and our souls, never to come out for the world to see. We tend to crawl deep inside our bodies in hopes of never being caught, ultimately to be left alone instead.

As we know, there are many ups and downs to bipolar disorder and that is in fact, what bipolar means—to be caught in different waves of mania as most struggle through what feels like, sheer hell. I can honestly say that I have experienced these waves of hell over this past year and a half alone. Even though I've had my family side-by-side with me every step of the way, I was alone while suffering these demons deep within my inner being. I never knew how to climb out of what felt like, the shell of my body. It was a challenge and therefore, a constant daily struggle.

I have recently learned that bipolar disorder has become a common disease among people of all ages, not just myself, but many others as well. As I was going through many stages of mania, I felt as if my world was crumbling below me, thus enabling me to always consider random thoughts of suicide. How would I do it? Why should I do it? And worse, when will I do it. There were times that I wanted to race upstairs into my kitchen and pull out a large, sharp kitchen knife only to free myself from the recurring reminders of pain. Thankfully, I didn't have the courage and eventually I would overcome these evil spirits that permeate my body everyday. Realizing that suicide is not only the answer, but a permanent effect of what my family would have to endure for eternity.

The feelings of what I struggle through with my bipolar disorder is a constant reminder of how sometimes, my medications don't always work. They're not always the answer to pure happiness, nor is it the end-all cure-all. Am I on the wrong meds? Perhaps. But according to my 'drug dealer,' they're the best that I could be on. Maybe a little tweaking here and there, but mostly an excellent concoction of a pharmaceutical mix.

I always daydream of how my life will improve, and how I could be filled with pure content. Yes, I'd be satisfied with that, considering how common it would be to be filled with pure happiness? Does it even exist, or are people just walking around fooling the rest of us, giving us the notion of envy? My cousin, for example, is most likely one of those people. She is, however, in a different position than I am, and will ever be. She and her husband are extremely wealthy. Oh, I don't mean the kind of wealth that most people are accustomed to, but a fortune that is only a small percentage of the population. They are worth hundreds of millions of dollars, therefore giving them the freedom of unlimited travel and lack of worry. I don't expect anywhere near that, but only a feeling of content and no worry of finances would satisfy my need of happiness. I realize that money is not always the answer to exuberance, but it sure would help.

If only.

Am I green with envy? Absolutely. Throughout my cousin's entire life, she has never had to worry about bills, finances, working or the like. My aunt and uncle have always been well off, consequently providing her the life of luxury. After marrying her husband, his business venture became a successful one, therefore giving them the privilege of infinate affluence. Is that fair? Mostly, it is. He worked hard. He didn't grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth like my cousin had the advantages of, ultimately providing him with the means of such wealth. I respect him for that.

Perhaps it's my bipolar disorder that provides me with such envy and obsession to their situation, but I know it's just mostly jealousy instead. I know my meds, or even hypnotherapy, couldn't solve these feelings or eliminate them completely. Maybe I'll be provided with control, or just a way of moving forward with my life without looking at them as if they're so much better than me, just because of their wealth. 

I know there are so many dimensions of bipolar disorder, and I know they affect me in a way, that pulls me beyond my control, but I still continue to persevere in order to become 'normal' again, instead of a constant feeling of resentment. The ups and downs of my frequent manic episodes. If not for myself, but for my family as well. They deserve a stress-free life where walking in the door is not a walking-on-eggshell feeling of worry, waiting to see if the smile on my face is evident to provide them with relief, instead of wondering if I'll explode into fits of anger. 

The many shades of bipolar disorder will one day pull me out of the continuous spirits of mania. I must have confidence that I will heal, and I will get better.

Or I'll go 'crazy.'

Bipolar Gal on Twitter

Hypnotherapy?

Hypnotherapy is something I have never tried before, but in this day and time, I'm desperate. I need to take control of my life and do it now. With constant thoughts of obsession, I now know that in order to continue on with my life is the best way to go.

Or is it?

I've done some research about hypnotherapy and found that it's not what we all envision to be—an entertainment of sorts while flapping your arms like a chicken on the stage of a hypnotist, for the audience to enjoy. No, it's much more intense than that. According to the Mayo Clinic's website, you're in complete control of your actions, its a trance-like state in which you have heightened focus and concentration. Hypnosis is usually done with the help of a therapist using verbal repetition and visual objects. When you're under hypnosis, you usually feel calm and relaxed, and more open to suggestions.

Hypnosis can be used to help you gain control over undesired behaviors or to help you cope better with anxiety or pain. It's important to know that although you're more open to suggestion during hypnosis, you don't lose control over your behavior.

Can this form of therapy help me? Or shall I just continue to have the feelings of obsessions in which I face every single day? This feeling of helplessness has overpowered my life, therefore affected my marriage. In recent days, my obsession has been controlled, but for how long? My mind wanders in a state of gloom wondering what will happen next. I know these feelings will eventually subside, but I often ask myself when. 

All it'll take it is one act that will ultimately throw me off the edge. The edge beyond reasonable merriment thus causing my behavior and obsession into a full blown chaotic state; a state of mania. As I continue to read my daily/monthly horoscope in hopes of an answer, I cross my fingers and hope that I will receive some sort of sign that everything will be alright. Even though I have never believed in horoscopes, the aligning of the stars and moons—or whatever it is—the desperation fills my soul hoping to be 'cured.' I'll try anything.

I realize that my naiveté will not solve all of my problems, if only my obsessions, but my torment will continue as I constantly pray that they will be answered, thus giving me back my happiness once again. I'm not a religious person, but faith is all I have at this point in time as I proceed in an attempt to control my life—aside from my regular daily meds. Without that one special sign every single day, my heart drops and I am unable to function normally—as normal as one can be when you're suffering from bipolar disorder.

Am I overreacting? Of course. I'm smart enough to know that what I'm feeling isn't real, it's just that part of my brain that's taking over my logical thinking. I know this much and I know that unless I take control of my life and these feelings of obsession, my life will be a constant pounding of distress. Much to the chagrin of my husband, he knows that in order to heal, I must have the strength to take that one little step in an attempt to move onward in the right direction.

There are no answers for me because it's a step that only I can take, and nobody else. I've had my therapist tell me for months that it must be done and like the ripping of a bandaid, it must be done cold turkey.

But how? Where do I start?

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Insecurity.

I feel this often. Too often. More often than I'd like to admit. I'm a grown woman and I should be confident during this time in my life, only to feel the opposite instead. I should feel nothing but faith and assertiveness, but instead, I slither away from confrontation. I experience sadness while approaching these feelings that permeate throughout my body and my mind; throughout my soul. I can't seem to shake them, so as a result, I let them overcome my thoughts and my heart. 

As the butterflies continue to flutter inside of me, I want to step outside of my body and take control; complete control of all of it. My entire life, my friends, my family, everyone surrounding me with whom I show a great deal of love for. Not to alienate them from my life completely, but to stand proud for those who have graced my affection and will only continue to do so.

So why would I feel insecure about these relationships? Why can't I just accept them as they are without the constant reassurance that everything will be OK? One word—insecurity.

The people who I have chosen to remain in my life are very special to me, therefore removing them now would be a mistake, if not a sad one. Although there are times where removing a friend or loved one from my life will seem like the right thing to do at that moment in time, I know in the future I will be filled with regret, only convincing myself that life is short. If it is in fact, short, I sometimes ask myself why continue on when I may believe something or someone may not be the proper fit for me which will have the advantage of gracing the presence of my life.

Most of the time I feel frustration, but don't we all? This is a common question we sometimes ask ourselves, but what is the answer? Is it as simple as removing that someone or something without further despair? I've always been the type of person who cares very deeply for the people in my life, especially friends. My friends mean a great deal to me, so when I feel as though I've been wronged in any way, I simply remove them from my life and move forward, without the uneasiness of looking back. However, certain friends have remained in my life regardless of their involvement and how they treat me. I know removing them from my life is the best thing to do, if only for my sanity and my future, but I can't, I just can't. I know it will only hurt and know I will constantly be filled with regret.

But for my future and my sanity? I know in my heart, it will be for the best. As they say, time heals all wounds. Doing it now will empower me.

My insecurity has only become the best of me, thus causing me to walk around in a cold daze. I know deep down that this is not healthy, and I need to rise above it and enable the invulnerability in my life and my mind. In this case, I know that confidence is of great magnitude.

As I am broached with a tough decision, I know whatever decision I make will be the right solution for me, and everyone around me. It can no longer affect my family like it has done for the past year or so. A thought that has rummaged through my mind for a long time coming, but I never had the courage to do so. I am weak, and I am not strong enough to make that one important step, so until then, I will continue to suffer and wonder, what if?

Like my entire life, insecurity has delegated my decision-making, and not for the good, but for the bad only. A negative that will continue to destroy my life until I take a stand in order to enrich it. Although I have tried many times, I always backed down, only to regret my weakness instead. Regret my cowardliness.

I need help, and I need guidance, and I need it now. If I only knew how.

Bipolar by Design

Out of My Control

As I sit here pondering the inevitable question in my mind, while enjoying my morning cappuccino, my head is spinning around in circles and butterflies are once again, fluttering inside of me. Certain circumstances are always out of my grasp only to be out of my control—again. I don't know if it's my obsession getting the best of me like it always does these days, or if it's just disappointment and worry. My mind wanders aimlessly into this seemingly obsessed hole stuck in my brain, that it won't close up with thoughts of contentment instead. 

Recently, certain events have changed all of that, and I don't know how to overcome them. Do I walk away from it completely or just deal with it like any adult learns to deal with? I want to escape from all of it because the constant overwhelming musings of what the possible ifs are quite simply, driving me crazy. It must stop and it must stop now.

But how?

It's not supposed to fade, but only flourish instead, as these past several months have only made me happy and secure in what it has become. Now that certain events have changed all of that—albeit in my mind only—it has, as a result, become bothersome in my mind. An obsession of sorts.

I worry about the inevitable replacement; something that will ultimately become out of my control. I can't control what may or may not happen simply because I am not within an earshot to control it. I can only sit back and hope for the best, and possibly prepare for the worst.

If you've seen the movie "Someone Like You" with Ashley Judd and Hugh Jackman, perhaps you'll know what I'm getting at. Throughout this movie, Ashley Judd's character, Jane, discusses the possibility (if not in a non-fiction sort of explanation) of a "New Cow Theory." This 'theory' explores a straightforward approach to the probability of the inevitable replacement of one person (or in this case, one cow) to another. Someone new, if you will.

The "Old Cow Theory" implies that as an 'old cow,' the boredom and excitement of this regular 'relationship' has gotten old; therefore, the spark has diminished. Whereas with a 'new cow,' the delight and newness of such 'theory,' has permeated one's thought process, therefore enabling this person to gravitate towards them even more. The pleasure and chemistry overwhelmed them in a state of ecstasy, if not pleasure.

Without divulging too much information here, mainly in fear of being "exposed," take it from me that mainly, due to unusual circumstances, there is literally nothing I can do to change this person's mind, because it is literally out of my grasp. What happens, happens.

So as I continue to obsess about it, how do I handle it? A part of me wants to walk away as an easy current solution, if only for me, in hopes of healing and moving forward with my life instead of the obsession that fills my mind and fills my soul everyday. Or perhaps just take a step back and let it fade away naturally. I know if I choose either scenario, I will be hurting in the process.

Like a bandaid, I know the former would only be the easiest—if not the most difficult—resolution in order to be happy and to not worry about the possibility of the inevitable. Time will encourage such a decision and knowing in my heart it must be done, but shall it be handled sooner or later, or immediately as a way of obtaining pure happiness and lack of worry. Eventually, to free my mind and free my heart.

That is the question I must continually ask myself on a regular, daily basis. At least until I have the courage and wherewithal to decide ultimately, what is best for me, and only me.

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Does Happiness Exist?

For most people, perhaps it does. But for me, I'm not so sure. As I gaze at my life, I recognize that happiness should exist for me, but most of the time, it doesn't. Am I selfish? Am I expecting too much? Perhaps.

I expect to be happy, and I expect to surround myself in a world of content, only to be disappointed instead. I'm lucky to have a loving, supporting husband, and a healthy daughter who have both accepted my bipolar disorder without judgment and resentment, because they love me regardless. I know my outbursts have only saddened them, instead of angered them as most people would deal with such torment. For most families, I imagine this would only be the case. Not for me, however, so why can't I be appreciative instead of questioning the result of my happiness?

I know for one to ask if happiness exists is the million dollar question we all ask ourselves, if not an expectation we all want to grasp. With the fear of losing it all, I only want to be thankful for the support I have received instead of questioning it on a daily basis. 

I've always believed—albeit wrongly—that happiness cannot and does not exist for me. Perhaps I'm being pessimistic, but in my heart, it can't. Can it? I look at people and their lives, their families, and their careers, and they all seem happy and satisfied. With me, I'm not so sure. I've had many jobs over the years and I honestly cannot think of one that I've been completely in love with. On the contrary, I've only felt dissatisfaction instead. With all of them.

How can that be? Is it so difficult to feel happiness and fulfillment? For most people, they would look down upon their lives and be thankful for everything they have been blessed with, whereas for me, I'm the opposite. It seems that my job situation won't escape me. I've had to go backwards instead of forward with my career. My current job isn't in my field, but only a job I've held for years as I battled my way through college. What is the point of my degree? Why did I bother? I've always been an advocate of the regurgitating effects of an education—that it's never a waste. But this time, I'm not so sure.

I'm lucky to have such a supportive family, that much I'm grateful for. But our finances and my job situation have hindered this feeling of satisfaction which continuously override the lack of happiness in my life. As I continue to daydream and wonder what life would be like without the worry of funds, I often wonder if we'll ever be financially secure in our lives, or are we destined to live the life of struggle as we wrestle our way through a web of destruction? I know I should be grateful for our lives and what we have with each other would be the easier way to go, instead of dreading on what we don't have, but instead, what we do have.

Most people say that money should not define us, but only to make us indebted to what we've been blessed with to make our lives that much easier. However, I always seem to battle with the continuous negative thoughts of unhappiness. We know that's not right, and we all know that money does not make us happy, but the jealousy of such a dream override my unhappy thoughts.

I know that one day, money will hopefully never be an issue—I pray for this on a daily basis, so how can it not? I won't give up on an incessant job search in hopes of a better way of life; to ensure my happiness with everything full circle in my life. In our lives. I will be adamant, therefore something will have to give way to my relentless forage of happiness if only to secure our finances. It must, or I will drive myself crazy with the possibility of an unsuccessful exploration of triumph; an effort and drive of love for that one perfect job. I know there's one out there, therefore I won't give up.

I must be positive.

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The Sadness of Loneliness

Have you ever felt lonely as a result of your bipolar disorder? To be honest, I would find that hard to believe if the answer was "no." I know for most people who suffer from this illness, that feeling of loneliness and sadness is just a common part of what we struggle through on a daily basis. At least it does for me.

I always wonder, speaking from someone like myself who is very outgoing and typically very social, how can a person overcome this? Medication? For me, that is definitely the correct answer. Ever since my daughter's soccer season this past spring, I have realized how being social and friendly was not something I wanted to do, nor did I do. As a result, I stayed away and slithered into my lonely space at home where it was a safe environment for me, where I didn't have to put on that facade that I have grown accustomed to for the past year. It was tough for me and I wanted to constantly crawl in bed and sleep, but since I've never been the type of person to sleep all day, I quickly pulled myself out of this slump and tried my hardest to continue forward, even though it was a continuous effort. 

Since being like this was the antithesis of my normal behavior, I truly didn't know how to react or even respond to these actions. As you could imagine, It was a tough transition. What came next for me? How could I get out of this slump? It seemed to be the same question I was asking myself on a daily basis. But when your mind is in a dark hole everyday, you can't think logically, but as a self-loathing emotionless human being instead, but you know it's only at that time as you're suffering.

When I first came back from visiting my parents last summer, and seeing my father struggle after receiving chemotherapy, it felt like my world was shattering right before my eyes. I know it wasn't, that much was apparent to me, but in my mind I felt as though everything was crumbling down like a house of cards. I felt as though I had no control, and for the most part, considering these particular situations, I didn't have control, but I was also aware that in most normal situations, I would have handled it much better than I did. With the exception of my father's illness, of course.

Once I saw my father, I felt as though he'd be OK, yes he was walking slower and he was definitely a lot weaker than he normally was, but still the same strong man I had known since childhood. His strong deep voice that always made me shake when he yelled at me as a child—even as an adult had still made me shutter. For the first time in my life, I liked it and never thought I would desire it, but once I heard his voice and his strength, I believed he was OK. And at that time, he was.

But loneliness is different, after seeing my father, I was broken. I knew my husband wouldn't understand nor would he accept my crawling into a quiet space and demand to be alone, so I hid it the entire time, which was the most difficult emotion I had ever had to overcome, but it didn't last. That was just my husband's way. As I look back now, I'm so very grateful of how he 'forced' me to try and adjust to these new emotions as a way to move forward and try to get better, but at that time, we had no idea it was my bipolar disorder crawling back into my life once again.

Until the following November where it all changed.

Several visits to the emergency room changed all of that. I didn't want to be there, nor did I want to be alone, but knew I had to be. My husband and daughter were there for me every step of the way, but mostly, I didn't want them there, I only wanted to sink into my dark abyss that I have grown so accustomed to instead. I wanted to be alone.

Several months later as I look back, I know that wasn't me and I do know that my bipolar disorder had wriggled its way back into my psyche—once again—and changed all of that. I look back and realized with great anticipation that regular visits to my therapist and my medication was a necessity, not an option and will most likely be a regular occurrence for the rest of my life. Maybe a decrease of visits to my therapist, but daily, the medication will always be there for me.

I'm better, a lot better, and I'm a lot more social once again, and I love it. I love being with my friends and I love socializing with them as I frequently laugh and smile—just like the old days.

Thank you Latuda and Tripletal, you've made a huge difference in my life.

Bipolar Gal on Twitter

Days of Mania

I have them, almost everyday. Many ups and downs that permeate my very existence. I'm continuously at a loss to why. Most of the time, I don't know how to handle it as I proceed to find out what is wrong with me; why do I cry as if my life is crumbling right before my eyes? A daily reminder of what my bipolar disorder is causing me—a regular heartache that hurts so much, I never know why, or how and what has created it.  

I always ask myself if this is something I can control or even handle. Without an answer to this question, I know that the hurt won't go away, but will only accentuate even more. 

My mind races and my mind wanders. I can't think straight and I can't focus on anything. My surroundings are black and white—nothing as simple as one color opposite from the other, but an over-the-top display of emotions. I want to scream, and most of the time I do. I let it out, so loud and so intense that I'm surprised my neighbors haven't complained. It hurts, you see, and I can't stop it. At that moment in time, I can't. Without the aid of my anti-anxiety pills, it will continue to mutilate my soul and affect me as if nobody can hear me or comprehend my plight.

I want to dive into the black hole in my mind and never crawl back. I want to stay there and I never want to come out. Just hide. It bewilders me, but I continue to scream—my mind is persistent and it won't stop. My thoughts fill me with intense emotion and sadness, that I want to end it all. All of it. Everything.

How does this misery end? Aside from swallowing one of my anti-anxiety pills, will I ever be 'normal' again? What is 'normal' anyway? For me, 'normal' is happiness and tranquility, a feeling of composure and belief that only guides me into another dimension of pure merriment. Even now, as I sit here and drink my morning cappuccino, I wonder how and why? I love drinking my cappuccino, I love the taste and I love how it makes me feel albeit shaky and anxious.

Every morning I feel this way as though I want to get up from my chair and paint the world bright colors to fill my soul—paint everything I see in sight without a care in the world to what I'm depicting from the heart. I love to paint. It's something I have done since college. Even though I studied fine art, I never completely understood the effects of oils but acrylics instead. I'm an amateur at best.

I love creating my own "graffiti" on street signs I purchased at the local eco thrift. It's my way of recycling within my home, and painting unusual objects that marvels my satisfaction.

Handicap sign

Speed Limit sign

Vintage Gas Station Number

I don't care. I do it because it pleases me. It's for me, nobody else but me. The downsides of being a graphic designer is it's for the client. Although working for the client has always given me the advantage of showing my professionalism and talent, the frustration of their layperson eye only frustrates me. I know what's best and I know what they need to settle on. Even if they don't see it at that point in time. Learning is key.

The shakiness that penetrates my body with a throbbing headache most likely from my morning medication, only extinguishes typical normality . My annoyance from this medication aggravates me but I know it's something I must do everyday, or my bipolar disorder will only come back full force, only making it worse.

I am filled with dizziness, but what is more important? I know what I must do, and I know how to control it, if not for my sanity and my family's as well. I must struggle on with the manic voices climbing through my soul as if they're not there. To only make me 'normal' again.

It's time. Time to paint.

Bipolar Gal on Twitter