bipolar disorder

How are you doing?

 

­­­­How are you doing?­­­­­

It’s a question we a­­­­­­­­­­sk others nearly every day of our life. But do we ever truly mean it?

If the person you asked suddenly started honestly telling you how they are feeling, would you stick around and listen or would you politely try to excuse yourself from the conversation?

Since I was diagnosed with cancer, this question has taken on a new meaning in my life. Now, I’m no longer afraid to admit how I really feel when someone asks. Cancer gives me the opportunity to be honest, no matter how uncomfortable the situation or the truth might be. My main focus is surviving. The rest is just minor details.

But I know not everyone has the luxury of telling those around them how they are truly feeling without fear of judgment or abandonment. You see, when someone used to ask me how I was doing, I would usually say “fine.” I’d politely ask how they were doing and then go on my way. I’d never admitted how much I was struggling. How plain exhausted I was. How lonely I was. How scared. How I had just sat in my car for 30 minutes wracked with anxiety trying to get up enough courage to walk through the door. How I had needed a pep talk from my husband that day just to get up and go to work. No. It was easier to say, “I’m fine” and continue on my way.

It was easier to not let people in too close. Since I was diagnosed bipolar at age 15, I built walls around myself. I found it was easier to isolate myself than risk embarrassing myself or my family by some of my wild or atypical outgoing behavior.

Maintaining relationships is one of the hardest parts of being bipolar. Finding people who you can trust and depend on to help you through your low points, as well as the highs, is critical to your well-being.

Recently, after we started telling friends and family about my cancer, I was struck by the outpouring of love and support for not only me but my entire family. People offered to cook meals, watch my children and take me to doctor appointments.  I’ve never felt more loved and supported in my entire life.

Then I thought about all those that have mental disorders, IBS, autism and other invisible illnesses. I thought about how so many of our friends, family members are silently suffering on the inside but may look perfectly fine on the outside. I thought about how difficult it is to open up to others when you are suffering. How difficult it is to ask for help. How difficult it is to reach out.

But, how great would it be, when you dared to open up and tell your family and friends about your disorder, if their first response was, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. How can I help?” How great would it be if your family and friends offered to cook you meals and take care of you or your children when you were feeling tired and overwhelmed?

You too would see that you matter. That you are loved. That this will pass. You are supported and will get through this. That alone could save a life.

Too often people with mental disorders, whether it’s anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder or others, feel isolated and alone in their suffering. They feel like a burden to their friends and family who can’t seem to understand why they just can’t get over it and move on.

So if your family member or friend has depression, anxiety or another mental disorder, I encourage you to reach out and ask that person regularly, how they are doing and mean it. LISTEN. Just sit there and listen to them. Try to listen without judgment. And at times when they are feeling low, a hug means more than any words you could possibly say.  At the end of the day, we all just want to be listened to and to feel we are not alone.

You have the power to make someone’s day better just by genuinely asking how they are doing and taking the time to truly listen to what they have to say. 

 

Dealing with a Difficult Diagnosis

Getting diagnosed is a double edged sword. On one hand, you can find comfort and a sense of relief in finally knowing what’s going on inside your body. But on the other hand, being diagnosed forces you to see yourself in a new, often negative light. You realize that you are not well. Part of your body is dysfunctional. For me, that was a difficult truth to face.

Whether you were recently diagnosed with a terminal illness, or you are battling an invisible illness or injury—a diagnosis can bring sense of isolation. You feel separated from the outside world. You now know without a doubt that part of you is unwell.

Normal every day life starts to feel hollow. You start to feel like you are living in two different worlds. One inside your head, where the reality of your illness consumes every waking thought. On the outside, you can smile and pretend at times that you are fine, but the truth is, the reality of your illness is never far from your mind.

For me, I was first diagnosed with a serious illness at 15. It was 2001, and a year of great personal change and societal upheaval. In the spring of 2001, my aunt took her own life. This was the first time I lost a close family member. It was a shocking and traumatic blow to my close-knit family. During the same time, my beloved grandfather was dying of leukemia. Then in the fall, 9/11 happened and life in the U.S., as well the entire world, was forever changed. 

I felt like I was losing control. It was all too much.  I felt scared and alone. Soon I just wanted to sleep and shut off the outside world. When I wasn't sleeping, my eyes were filled with tears. The constant stream of scrutiny in mind was unending. In my head, I was failing my family, my friends and even school. I could not find any hope in my current situation or the world. When my family would ask what was wrong, all I could do was answer, "You just don't understand."

Soon the negative thoughts consumed nearly every waking thought. I was hardly eating or sleeping. I wanted it to stop. I wanted the pain to end. It was then that I first attempted to take my life.

Thankfully, my mom found me before any serious harm came to me. My suicide attempt was truly a cry for help. I needed help getting control of all the thoughts in my head.

After my suicide attempt, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I was given a host of medicines to try, from anti-depressants to lithium. I began to go to therapy. We were told to limit stressors and identify triggers. The medicine helped to slow down my racing thoughts but the rest of the world seemed to slow down along with it.

I felt like I was standing alone in a crowed room, screaming at everyone around me to hear me and see the pain that I was in. But everyone else was moving so fast that they could not hear or even see me. They were not on my level. Once again I was alone. 

While I wanted to fully accept my diagnosis and treatment plan, part of me rejected the idea that I wasn't well. After all I had been through that year and early on in my life, who wouldn't have a hard time adjusting to this much change and tragedy?

In my head, being told I was bipolar at 15 was a death sentence. My aunt who took her life was bipolar. I assumed that I was destined to meet a similar fate since there is no cure. I began to rebel and thought it was best to live fast and hard since I was destined to die young. So I did.

I fought the ups and downs of bipolar disorder for over 5 years. Throughout high school and my early years of college, I went on and off medicine and in and out of therapy depending on the severity of my symptoms. I ultimately had to leave college when I became pregnant with my first child at the age of 20.

The patterns of mania and depression were obvious to everyone but myself. It was only after I lost control again and was on the brink of suicide that I finally sought and accepted the help and treatment I so badly needed.

Taking Control

When I found out I was pregnant at age 20, life as I knew it was forever changed...for the better. By honoring the new life growing inside me, I was able to finally start to heal. I wanted to be better, not just for myself, but I wanted to be there to love, guide and nurture the new life growing inside me. 

Whether you are struggling with addiction, mental illness, trauma or serious illness, I believe the first step is acceptance. You need to accept and surrender to your situation in order to fully move past the negative and find the positive.

In a 12 step program, recovery starts by admitting you are powerless, but that a power greater than yourself can restore you to sanity. For some, they find strength by finding a higher power in religion, while others find solace in nature, their pets or in living for their family. 

I believe that the first step toward recovery lies in finding a motivation outside yourself. For me, my saving grace was having my daughter. Feeling the flickers of life growing inside me filled me with hope for me future—for the first time in my life.  She became the cornerstone upon which I built the foundation for my new life. Having the courage to have her, gave me the strength and confidence I needed to finally face my fears and grow into the woman I knew in my heart I was capable of becoming. 

By finding the right mix of medicine along with cognitive behavioral therapy, I was finally able to take back control of my life and find the stability that is so often elusive when you are suffering from mental illness. Outside of medicine and therapy, what helped me the most to come to terms and accept being bipolar was the unwavering love, support and guidance from my (now) husband, parents and close friends.

I believe having a strong support system outside of medicine and therapy is critical for long-term success. Their unconditional love allows me to feel at ease confiding my thoughts, no matter how strange or silly they might seem. This helps me understand if I am processing and reacting to a situation in the right manner.

One of the most challenging parts of dealing with bipolar disorder or cancer is learning how to separate yourself from your illness so you can learn effective strategies to cope with the anxious or obsessive racing thoughts.  What helped me tremendously was understanding that intrusive thoughts are a symptom of my disorder. 

Intrusive thoughts are thoughts that consistently enter your mind against your will. They're considered intrusive because you simply cannot get them out of your mind, and they often pop up at unusual moments. Intrusive thoughts may also occur in flashes, and often cause significant anxiety when they enter your mind. Examples of intrusive thoughts include unwanted memories and violent or sexual thoughts. Through cognitive behavioral therapy and by practicing mindfulness and meditation I was able to learn how to better control them.

A book that helped me enormously to come to terms and learn effective coping strategies was Take Charge of Bipolar Disorder: A 4-Step Plan for You and Your Loved Ones to Manage the Illness and Create Lasting Stability by Julie Fast. If you or your loved ones are suffering from mental illness, I highly recommend reading this book. One of the reasons this resonated with me is the author Julie Fast has bipolar disorder. She wrote the book along with her doctor. Her honest perspective about dealing with mental illness coupled with the medical advice make this book one of the best I have ever read on the topic.

After committing myself wholeheartedly to my treatment plan, I was able to go back to college, graduate with honors, get married, start my career and a family. Life was finally coming together. Then I was diagnosed with cancer. It's a shocking turn of events to accept when you feel that your life is finally getting on the right track.

However, I am choosing to view my cancer diagnosis with an open and grateful heart. I’m grateful because I believe all my past experiences have prepared me for the difficult journey ahead. One of the ways I have been able to remain strong, positive and focused on my recovery is by applying a growth-centered mindset to my current situation.

As Eckhart Tolle explains in his book, "A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose:

The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it. Be aware of the thoughts you are thinking. Separate them from the situation which is always neutral, which always is as it is. There is the situation or the fact, and here are my thoughts about it. Instead of making up stories, stay with the facts. For example, “I am ruined” is a story. It limits you and prevents you from taking effective action. “I have fifty cents left in my bank account” is a fact. Facing facts is always empowering. Be aware that what you think , to a large extent, creates the emotions that you feel. See the link between what your thinking and your emotions. Rather than being your thoughts and emotions, be the awareness behind them.

 


He goes on to say that, “Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at the moment.” 

According to Tolle, the root of our suffering has a noble purpose. Instead of wishing it away, we need to fully embrace it. For it is through embracing our suffering that we will awaken to our true purpose. While some things look negative on the surface, you will soon realize that space is being created in your life for something new to emerge.

The fact is I have cancer and bipolar disorder. I can't change the fact I have these illnesses, but I can control my actions, and in doing so I can create a positive mindset focused on healing rather than fighting. So I am choosing to embrace the uncertainty of my illness. I am learning to honor and accept my pain. For I believe this is all temporary and preparing me to be better, stronger and wiser on the other side. Every painful or uncomfortable moment is getting me one step closer to being both cancer free and whole again.