LOSING MYSELF, FINDING PEACE POST 8 MANIA
I was first diagnosed with bipolar at 14. I struggled with my mental health for years. My worst manic episode occurred when I was in my early 20’s. No matter how hard I tried to be a good mom, it was never enough. Despite struggling my whole life with mental and emotional illness, it was having children that made me want to get better. I had seen doctors and tried medications, but life was still a challenge. Finally, it all came to a head. I wasn’t taking any medication at that time, and I was overcome by debilitating depression. I wanted to die. Life felt hopeless. I decided I needed to do SOMETHING! So, I went to the doctor. I found his name in the yellow pages and decided to give him a try. He was an internist and had a great solution to my dilemma: Prozac.
I LOVE Prozac. A few days of those happy pills and life was perfect. I felt happy. My house was clean. I had energy to spare. It was AWESOME! Unfortunately, it didn’t last. I crashed, the depression worse than before, so I went back to the doctor. Well, if 20mg made things good, 40mg should make things better, right? It was lovely, at least I thought so.
I woke up one morning with a smile on my face. I got the kids up, made breakfast, cleaned the kitchen and then had the most amazing idea: Shopping! I put my three- and four-year-old in the car and headed to the mall.
It was as amazing as I thought it would be. All the lovely items for sale, the colors bright and inviting. So many things to see and touch. I weaved in and out of the aisles, moving through the different departments. Nightgowns! Oh, the fabric! So silky against my skin. And the colors, so many! How could I decide? I had to get one of each color, five in all. I HAD to! I don’t ever wear nightgowns but that didn’t matter. They were too beautiful to resist. And my kids, where were they? Oh, there they were. My daughter, in the stroller, and my son nearby.
Exercise equipment! I needed to get in shape! I’d gained weight while pregnant. It was time to get serious and start exercising. Hmmm, what did I need? Shoes! I needed new sneakers. And an exercise step. Step aerobics was all the rage these days. I would do step aerobics! I wandered from store to store, letting whatever diversion I found guide me.
But then I wondered, my son, where was he? Wait, where did he go? Jimmy? Jimmy? That panic that only a parent with a missing child feels gripped me. It wasn’t long before I found him, hiding in racks of clothes. But that intense fear penetrated my manic bubble. I don’t know how, but I knew something was wrong then. I had done something wrong. My kids weren’t safe, and I was scared. The grand total that I spent that day? Over $2000. More money than we could ever have come up with. Most of what I bought that day I returned, though I kept the sneakers and exercise step and one of the nightgowns to remember. Every time I saw that nightgown, I remembered what I’d done and the risk I put my children in.
I learned two lessons that day:
1) Never see a regular doctor for psychiatric issues.
2) Never do anything that puts my children at risk.
People with mental illness frequently go off their medication, thinking they don’t need it anymore. I’m the opposite. I will take ANYTHING, do ANYTHING to keep my kids safe. Whether it’s taking medications when prescribed or speaking up to doctors when the medication doesn’t work, I have no problem using medication to help with my illness. I will never put my kids at risk again!
My mental illness was debilitating. I experienced depression that was more than just feeling sad. Depression is a giant sucking vortex that drains you of all energy and rational thought. The flip side, mania, isn’t happiness; it’s out of control energy misdirected into the most self-destructive ways. What’s worse is knowing it is a pattern, not a single event, so while you wait, knowing that it won’t last forever, you also know that as bad as you feel, it will come back again and again. If you’re manic, you know it’s just a matter of time. When you’re truly manic you can’t imagine anything negative ever happening but as you come out of it, you’re hit with the fear. You know the depression will come and you know it will be bad.
Mania can be harder to understand than depression. Just as depression is more than “feeling sad”, mania isn’t just “feeling good”. It’s more than just the increased energy that can lead to profound ideas or intense productivity. It is a complete inability to understand the consequences of your actions. I’ve had many “hypomanic” episodes. Those are awesome. Those are the episodes where you clean the house until it sparkles at 1am. You come up with THE outline for your book, which you just KNOW will be a best-seller. Life is perfect and you want this feeling to last forever. Unfortunately, mania can be much more destructive than depression. Because there is the lack of understanding of consequences, you can get into deep waters really quickly. Finances can be decimated by uncontrolled spending or financial ideas gone wrong. Sexual promiscuity can ruin relationships. Leaving your children uncared for because you can’t understand you have responsibilities can tear families apart.
I struggled with a never-ending spiral, vacillating between being super productive and unable to move. I worked with a psychiatrist, and did my best, but my illness didn’t go away. The struggle continued.
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