Bipolar Buddhist with a Handful of Other Annoying Issues
It all started with what can only be described as a nuclear meltdown when I was about 31 years old. I was working in a very high stress situation that wasn’t good for anyone in the office, least of all someone prone to depression. I found myself becoming increasingly stressed and depressed which I just blew off because I was no stranger to either stress or depression having experienced both for the better part of my life. However, this felt different than the depressions I had experienced in the past. I could just feel it; this was really different.
After calling in sick to work for about 5 days (my absence got longer), I compiled a list of psychologists from my provider directory and sent it to my primary care doctor to see if he could make a recommendation. I didn’t know any of them. They were picked at random. All I cared about was if they were accepting new patients and how soon could I get in. Fortunately, one of the ones I had listed had worked under my PCP, and he highly recommended her to me. She was accepting new patients, and the next thing I knew I had a appointment in a couple of days. This brought some, but not much relief. I was still melting down and calling in sick. I was so out there that I couldn’t even face talking to my employer on the phone; I left voice-mails to avoid having to explain the situation. When all was said and done, I had called in sick for eleven days of work. These were workdays not including weekends. Little did I know it was going to get worse. Much worse.
Initially, she diagnosed me with Unipolar depression which is kind of garden variety depression. I wasn’t experiencing simple depression. This was deeper, more “sinister” like something was lurking in my brain just waiting for an opportune moment. I was up, I was down, then I was up and then I would crash again. But, I never hit full mania until I had a full on manic episode. I was always hypomanic so the original diagnosis was amended to Bipolar Type II. I was okay with that. She told me the symptoms, answered my questions and I was okay with the information. At least, I had a working idea of what was happening.
Then, the dreaded full blown manic episode. I didn’t sleep more than an hour or two per night for about 10 days, I was so energetic (but nothing was ever finished), I was engaging in behaviors that could cost me my job (the illness did finally cost me my job, but that is later on.) I “graduated.” I was now diagnosed as a Bipolar Type I with psychotic features. What!!!!! Psychotic features? This diagnosis I was not okay with. Not in the least. I felt as if I had been run over by a steamroller and was peeling my flattened self off the pavement. Once, I came to a low level of acceptance, I did remember that as a child, I did have auditory hallucinations and periodically visual ones like seeing something out of the corner of your eye but there’s nothing there. That kind of thing.
Then came the first hospitalization. I was there for 11 days, and they were trying to stabilize me. It wasn’t going real well because I had not been diagnosed early in the illness which I had learned was a progressive one. The doctors’,based on my self-reports, estimated it had been developing since I was in my late teens and had been brought out by a genetic predisposition and a traumatic incident when I was 16. I was also told I was very good at hiding that I was truly very sick. I left the hospital with 7 prescriptions (I now take 4.) I was not stable. Not at all. I was treatment-resistant. Everything made me sick, or had a side effect I wasn’t willing to live with. I was medication compliant. I tried everything the psychiatrist tried me on. I just didn’t have any tolerance when it came to side effects. I was determined that I was going to live as normally as possible. Then came the newer diagnoses: Panic disorder with and without Agoraphobia, Generalized Anxiety disorder, PTSD, and of all things, Adult ADHD (no wonder college took so long.) So there I was with this plethora of mental problems, and no job (I was ultimately fired for excessive absenteeism), and no insurance. This was not acceptable. Fortunately, I had been referred to a psychiatrist that was willing to try me out on samples until we found the ones that worked. He stabilized me after 5 years on a combination of medications. I felt so much better; the man was a genius!
My road to a somewhat recovered state was very rocky and rife with hospitalizations and suicide attempts, and worst of all, self-medicating with alcohol. It wasn’t until one of my attempts was nearly successful that I realized how precious life really is even if you have to live it with a serious mental illness. That was in 2008 in July. 8 years ago, I almost became a statistic because of this illness and other contributing factors.
In 2008, I became a Buddhist, and my whole world changed. I began to realize that mental health meany spiritual health which meant physical health. I had never seen it in such a holistic light before. I now have a three pronged approach to my illnesses: strong grounding in faith, medication and therapy, and keeping healthy in other areas of my life, like cycling, for example, is my favorite way of exercising and relaxing. I have learned the hard way what it takes to lead a relatively functional life with a variety of mental health issues. Sometimes, the anxiety is overwhelming. Sometimes, the irrational thought patterns that are common to my “flavor” of Bipolar take over. Sometimes, the depression is nearly more than I can bear. But, in order to have any quality of life, I have to handle the symptoms.
Sometimes, I write about what is happening, nearly all the time, I use my Buddhist philosophy to hang in there, and other times, I just let myself be whatever it is that my brain has decided I am going to be that day. I am fortunate that I have no one else to take care of like children, etc. I do not think I would be capable of that. There are days when my cat gets on my last nerve. However, for the most part, life is good. It is bearable. It is livable, and I wouldn’t trade being “mentally interesting” for whatever is currently passing for normal. I do not believe in normal. But, I have and am still learning to believe in my own strength. I will always have Bipolar disorder, and its friends, but I can cope with them now. As a caveat, I have been in therapy for nearly 14 years, and I have been practicing Buddhism for 8.5 years. I have been a cyclist for 20 years. These things keep me sane and grounded.
