Destigmatizing Bipolar Disorder: A Vulnerability

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“Illness is a part of every human being's experience. It enhances our perceptions and reduces self-consciousness. It is the great confessional; things are said, truths are blurted out which health conceals.” ― Virginia Woolf, On Being Ill

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How could I possibly have bipolar disorder? (TW/CW: suicide):

The first time my doctor tried to diagnose me with bipolar disorder, I vehemently disagreed. How could I possibly have bipolar disorder?

My only experience with bipolar was through my mother's bipolar disorder, and she was suicidal. She would drink, enter a state of chaotic mania, and try to kill herself. It didn't matter if we were around, if I begged her to live, even if it I had to be the only reason she stayed. I am not that. My children have never had to worry if they were enough to keep me alive. How could I possibly have bipolar disorder?

There was also the issue that I had never experienced what I expected a manic "high" to be. The movies get it wrong when they only show people binge spending, elated, dancing in the freezing rain without the fear of frostbite. I had only ever felt the anger and rage and depression of bipolar disorder, so how could I possibly have bipolar disorder?

It wasn't until 2019 (two years after my doctor first tried to diagnose me with bipolar disorder) that I experienced what I would eventually claim to be my first "real" manic "high" (it wasn't, but I didn't know any better then). It is a lot, and not something I talk about often, but in the spirit of vulnerability, I will give a brief summary. I was set to be married in August of 2019, but my mental health had been declining for a few years by then, and I got o a point about a month and a half before then when I started reaching out to loved ones, telling them I could feel something bad coming. I told them I felt like I was on the precipice of a mental health crisis, I was scared, I needed help. I can't blame them though, none of us had all the information and we were all living through our individual struggles. Then one morning, I just called my fiancé and told him the wedding was off, and even more, I didn't want to be with him anymore. To this day I have no idea where it came from outside of the mania. I isolated myself from my only true ally and supporter, and why? It wasn't until after the manic episode ended (three months and countless memory holes later) that I understood what had happened. I just woke up one morning and a fog was suddenly gone. What they don't tell you about manic episodes is that they often come with memory loss as a self defense mechanism, because how could we possibly survive the damage we caused all at once? I called my doctor within minutes of the fog clearing, crying, begging for help. I was in a state of horrifying confusion, I had no idea what had happened and more importantly, WHY it had happened. My doctor got me in that very day, and it was then I had to stop asking myself, "How could I possibly have bipolar disorder?"

So began the medicine game and an agonizing apology tour. They don't tell you how hard it is to have your memories come back slowly with every new (successful) med change, and how often you're going to have to apologize with each new remembrance. If I could describe it as one thing exclusively, it would be that it fucking sucked. And it continued to suck, and suck, and suck. The mood stabilizers that would turn me into a zombie, the anti-depressants that would make my table-top emotional pendulum feel like one of those fair rides that swing back and forth until they eventually build up the momentum to loop round and round and round. I would finally feel like my meds were perfect, and then I would wake up one morning and not be able to get out of bed. Or I would get out of bed and then yell and cry at everyone I came in contact with because I hated them, I hated myself, and most importantly, I hated bipolar disorder. The resentment felt like it would be an eternal battle. How can I possibly survive bipolar disorder?

After a year of playing the med game, I finally FINALLY had the right adjustments, doses, and prescriptions (the same ones I still use to this day). Then came therapy. That didn't suck so much. I found Delynn, and she was (and still is) everything I needed/need in a therapist. I was never going to work with one of those "and how does that make you feel" therapists. I needed someone who would be straight up with me. I needed someone that would call me on my shit, see through my disguises, and make me take a good, hard look at myself. I finally got to the point where I no longer needed to ask how I could possibly have bipolar disorder, and instead started asking, "how can I learn to thrive through bipolar disorder?"

Just under 5 years after treatment, I can wholeheartedly, and honestly tell you, it CAN get better. That is not to say it DOES get better, because you have to work for it. There are days that are so much harder than ever, but you learn to recognize the signs. You learn to recognize the triggers as well. For example, I have to have a minimum of 7 hours of sleep every night. As a college student, that is a pretty inconvenient restriction, but without it, I have a max of 3 days without proper sleep before a manic episode will begin to manifest. I also have to be careful when taking vacations. Yes, vacations. You would think that a vacation would be a great reset for mental health (and for many, it is!), but unfortunately, vacations typically mean higher alcohol usage, late nights, elevated serotonin, and increased marijuana usage, which are all *personal* triggers for manic episodes. At this point, I know to let my doctor know that I am going on vacation so she has a prescription for a mood inhibitor (I use seroquel, otherwise know as quetiapine). I take it for a few days, and spend a week with my pendulum at dead center. No happiness, no depression, no creativity, no excitement, no arousal, and no personality. For me, it is worth it for the memories made on vacation (especially the ones we bring our children on), for others, it might not be. That is up to the bipolar individual to decide, but make no mistake, you will have to make those decisions, and often frequently at the beginning of treatment. Which triggers are worth it, and which ones are simply not worth the fallout. Don't feel ashamed for either, your mental health needs to come first. If it doesn't, you not only do those around you a disservice, but yourself a disservice as well. If you have bipolar disorder, stop asking yourself "why?", it doesn't help. Trust me, I tried.

I thought my diagnosis was a death sentence. Truly. My mom tried to commit suicide countless times throughout my childhood, how could it not? But the thing is, she didn't treat her bipolar disorder. She didn't stick with the med game, she didn't go to therapy, and she never felt the life-altering shame of a post-mania apology tour. She didn't put in the work, and in a society that didn't understand or encourage her to do so, why would she? She was denied job after job for being bipolar when she was first diagnosed, despite being the hardest worker I have ever met. She wasn't a bad mom, she was struggling with the weight of societal discrimination, low income in a country that did not provide affordable mental health services, and shamed out of self-acceptance. It wasn't until I was diagnosed, was seeing successes, and began my journey of mental health advocacy, that my mom finally found the courage to start her own quest for mental stability. It took me stripping myself bare, vulnerable for the world to see and judge as they see fit, for her to stop asking, "How can I possibly have bipolar disorder?", and start saying, "I have bipolar disorder, and I will survive, and I will find peace." Same, mama, same.

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Resources, because you're not alone:

10 self-love tips for people with bipolar disorder, written by Hannah Blum, author of The Truth About Broken: The Unfixed Version of Self-Love:

https://halfway2hannah.com/2020/08/05/10-self-love-tips-for-people-with-mental-illness/

Daily bipolar mood tracker:

https://www.dbsalliance.org/wellness/wellness-toolbox/wellness-tracker/

It is more common than you think:

https://screening.mhanational.org/content/how-common-bipolar/#:~:text=About%201%20in%2040%20American,affects%20men%20and%20women%20equally.

Loving someone with bipolar disorder:

https://www.healthline.com/health/bipolar-disorder/relationship-guide#:~:text=Be%20open%3A%20It's%20vital%20to,plan%20created%20by%20their%20doctor.

Loving YOURSELF with bipolar:

https://psychcentral.com/bipolar/when-youre-struggling-with-self-loathing-in-bipolar-disorder

Get your sleep, friend, you need it:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5579327/

Find your people. You deserve it:

https://www.dbsalliance.org/support/chapters-and-support-groups/find-a-support-group/

You can persuade the minds around you, but presentation matters:

https://www.camh.ca/en/driving-change/addressing-stigma

Applying logos, pathos, and ethos to advocate for mental health awareness:

https://www.ipl.org/essay/Mental-Health-Ethos-Pathos-And-Logos-P33QJEQMG5PT

Adrienne Maree Brown and Pleasure Activism, a response and promotion:

https://minnesotareview.wordpress.com/2020/02/19/why-i-am-reading-adrienne-maree-browns-pleasure-activism/

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In the dance of highs, where shadows play,

A manic heart in the light of day.

I beg you, dear, with a soul confessed,

Love me still, when I'm in distress.

In the whirlwind mind, where thoughts take flight,

A kaleidoscope of colors, oh so bright.

I paint the canvas of my days, In hues of passion, in wild displays.

But, sweet love, in this fevered state,

I ask for patience, don't hesitate.

For though I soar to skies untold,

The turbulence within can be hard to hold.

In the frenzy of dreams that wildly spin,

I am trying, trying, let that sink in.

Through the chaos, my efforts persist,

To tether the tempest, to coexist.

When the world seems painted in vibrant strokes,

And every heartbeat a melody evokes,

Remember, love, it's a delicate art,

To still see me, beyond the frenzied heart.

In the carnival of emotions that I ride,

Please see the person, not just the tide.

I am more than the waves that ebb and flow,

A soul beneath, asking you to know.

Love me still, when the energy cascades,

And the symphony of thoughts invades.

For in the fervor, though I may be free,

I am still reaching, still anchored to thee.

So, if I stumble, if I trip,

In this manic dance, a turbulent flip,

Hold my hand, be my steadying song,

Even in the moments when I seem strong.

Love me through the storms, love me in the calm,

For even in chaos, I mean you no harm.

In the pursuit of balance, I give my best,

So I may receive love through my distress.

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Navigating the Tightrope: The Struggle for Vulnerability in a Stigmatized Society with Bipolar Disorder

Living with bipolar disorder entails a delicate dance on the tightrope of mental health, where the constant fear of societal judgment and stigmatization adds an extra layer of complexity. Despite diligent efforts, including medication adherence and regular therapy sessions, individuals with bipolar disorder often find it challenging to be vulnerable in a society that perpetuates stereotypes and misunderstanding. So let's talk about it, from one vulnerable human to another.

Societal attitudes towards mental health issues continue to be marred by ignorance and misconception, perpetuating a culture of stigma. Despite advances in awareness, bipolar disorder remains shrouded in stereotypes that cast individuals as unpredictable, unreliable, or even dangerous. This stigma creates an environment where being vulnerable becomes a daunting task, as the fear of judgment looms over every personal interaction.

Living with bipolar disorder often necessitates a meticulous effort to present a façade of normalcy to the outside world. Even with the stability provided by medication and therapy, the pervasive stigma surrounding bipolar disorder can lead individuals to conceal their struggles. The fear of being labeled as "crazy" or "unstable" fuels a constant internal battle between authenticity and the desire to fit societal expectations.

For many individuals with bipolar disorder, the journey towards stability involves a careful balancing act of medication and therapy. While these interventions contribute significantly to managing the condition, they do not eradicate the societal stigma attached to bipolar disorder. Despite the tangible progress made in personal well-being, the lingering doubt about societal acceptance can make vulnerability seem like an insurmountable hurdle.

Therapy serves as a safe space for individuals with bipolar disorder to explore their emotions, fears, and vulnerabilities. However, the fear of societal judgment often infiltrates these therapeutic spaces, making it challenging for individuals to fully open up. The paradox lies in the juxtaposition of a supportive therapeutic environment and the harsh realities of societal stigmatization, creating a constant tension that affects the depth of vulnerability one is willing to expose.

Even with the strides made in treatment and personal growth, the stigmatization of bipolar disorder perpetuates a pervasive feeling of inadequacy. Despite engaging in self-improvement, individuals may grapple with the nagging sense that they are not "good enough" for society. The internalization of societal biases contributes to a cycle of self-doubt, hindering the embrace of vulnerability.

Being vulnerable with bipolar disorder in a stigmatized society is an arduous journey marked by internal and external challenges. The quest for acceptance, despite taking medication and attending therapy, remains elusive for many. To foster a more compassionate society, it is crucial to challenge stereotypes, promote mental health education, and create spaces where individuals with bipolar disorder can be authentically vulnerable without the fear of judgment. Only by dismantling the barriers of stigma can society truly appreciate the strength and resilience demonstrated by those navigating the complexities of bipolar disorder.

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Yet, beneath the radiance, doubts do trace. Is this elation a genuine embrace, Or the wild dance of a manic chase?

A symphony of joy, notes untamed, But in my heart, a quiet question framed. The fear creeps in, like shadows at night, Is this happiness real, or a fleeting light?

I tread cautiously on this fragile ground, In the garden of joy, uncertainty is found. The colors of elation, vivid and bright, Yet, in the shadows, anxiety takes flight.

Is this jubilation a genuine bloom, Or the prelude to a darkened room? The line blurs between ecstasy and fear, In this dance of joy, doubt draws near.

A rollercoaster ride, emotions collide, In the spectrum of happiness, I abide. Is this the real me or a fleeting phase, A question that lingers in uncertain haze.

Yet, in this turmoil, a strength is born, Navigating the highs with resilience worn. For in the puzzle of joy and fear, I find a courage that whispers clear