Bipolar Disorder: A Few Facts

I have spoken a little about my own experiences with Bipolar Disorder, but I thought it would be helpful to provide some factual information about the disease.  All the factual information about the disease and its various forms comes from the WebMD website www.webmd.com.

Researchers have identified two chemical messengers called neurotransmitters, that may play a role in bipolar disorder:  dopamine and serotonin.

• Dopamine:  Helps to control movement and is also linked to thinking and emotions
• Serotonin:  Produced by nerve cells in the brain, helps control moods

Incorrect levels of these two chemicals in the brain is what is most likely responsible for the manifestation of this illness. 

Bipolar Disorder has been known in the past as Manic-Depressive Disorder.  The name was changed a few years ago in order to provide a more comprehensive overview of what the illness can encompass.  It turns out that there are several different classifications under the over-arching title of Bipolar.

The first of these and the most severe and most common is Bipolar I Disorder.  It is characterized by severe mood episodes ranging from mania to depression.  Bipolar II Disorder is the second classification.  This is the form of the disease that I have.  Its symptoms include a milder form of mood elevation, involving milder episodes of “hypomania”, alternating with severe episodes of depression.  This means that my “manic” phases are not as severe as typical mania, but my depressive periods are extreme and longer lasting than those of a person with Bipolar I.

Mania is very severe and has a specific set of symptoms.  People with mania need less sleep to feel rested.  They talk rapidly or excessively.  They are easily distracted and have “racing thoughts”—thoughts that come so fast they tend to pile up on each other so that they feel like they can’t think clearly at all.  They have a tendency to use poor judgment, like impulsively deciding to quit a job.  People with mania have inflated self-esteem or grandiosity.  They have unrealistic beliefs in their ability, intelligence and powers and may become delusional. 

Mania also involves reckless behaviors, such as spending sprees, impulsive sexual indiscretions, abuse of alcohol and drugs, and making ill-advised business decisions.

Hypomania is a less severe form of mania.  It is a mood that may don’t perceive as a problem.  In fact, you actually feel pretty good.  You have a greater sense of well-being and productivity.  However, for someone with Bipolar Disorder, hypomania can turn into full-blown mania, or switch into serious suicidal depression.

Although, I am classified as having hypomania, I have experienced many of the symptoms of mania, as well.  These include needing less sleep, rapid, excessive and inappropriate speech, racing thoughts, poor judgment, and reckless behaviors.

Some people with Bipolar Disorder become psychotic when manic or depressed.  They may hear or see things that aren’t there or hold on to false beliefs that they cannot be swayed from.  In some instances, they see themselves as having superhuman skills and powers, even considering themselves to be god-like.

Different and sometimes milder forms of the illness include “Cyclothymia”.  This includes periods of hypomania with brief periods of depression that are not as extensive or long-lasting as seen in full depressive episodes. 

“Mixed Features” is another form of Bipolar Disorder that refers to the occurrence of simultaneous symptoms of opposite mood polarities during manic, hypomanic, or depressive episodes.  It is marked by high energy, sleeplessness and racing thoughts.  At the same time, the person may feel irritable, hopeless, despairing and suicidal.

Rapid-cycling is a form of the disease characterized by having four or more mood episodes within a 12-month period.  Episodes must last for a number of days in order to be considered distinct episodes.  Some people experience changes in polarity from low to high and vice versa in a single week, or even a single day.  The full symptom profile that defines distinct, separate episodes may not be present.  For example, the person may not have a decreased need for sleep.  This makes “ultra-rapid cycling” a controversial phenomenon. 

Rapid cycling can occur at any time during the course of the illness, but many researchers believe that it may be more common at later points in the lifetime duration of the illness.  Women appear more likely than men to have rapid cycling.  A rapid cycling pattern increases the risk of severe depression and suicide attempts.  A controversial theory regarding this form of the illness is that antidepressants may sometimes be associated with triggering or prolonging the symptoms of rapid cycling, but this theory is still under investigation.

There are different treatments for each of the different forms of Bipolar Disorder, but mostly it is something you just have to live with and learn how to cope with.  It is a terrifying disease as you never really know what is coming next.  Planning your week or your life is generally quite difficult as you just never know how you will feel on any given day.  I still work, but my home life suffers considerably due to the illness.  It is a lifetime disease and it is incurable.  Thankfully, it is treatable to a degree, so I get some relief due to the medications I take.  Unfortunately, the symptoms are never totally eliminated and the blissful terror of mania or the horrifying darkness of depression are always lurking around the corner.

Email me below and let me know if any of these symptoms sound familiar to you!

Thanks!

Peace and Love Always,

Angela 

 

 

 

Photo Credits:  Red and White Staircase:  Photo credit: raindog via VisualHunt.com / CC BY-NC-SA;  Sweeping White Staircase with Ceiling Skylight:  Photo credit: JH Images.co.uk via VisualHunt.com / CC BY-NC-SA;  White/Yellow Oak Underside of Stairs: Photo credit: skoscmoi via Visualhunt / CC BY-NC-SA  ;   Ultra Modern Spiral Stairs:  Photo credit: krossbow via Visual hunt / CC BY;  Pastel Rainbow Stairs:  Photo via Visualhunt;   Concrete Staircase:  Photo via VisualHunt;  Yellow Spiral Staircase:  Photo credit: Studio Antwan via Visual hunt / CC BY-NC-ND;  White Spiral Staircase with Skylight:  Photo credit: mickeynp via VisualHunt.com / CC BY-NC-SA;  Underside of Red and White Stairs:  Photo credit: raindog via VisualHunt.com / CC BY-NC-SA

 

Rough Days

I’m sure you have had off days occasionally or you feel just dragged down and like nothing is going right for you.  I’m sure you have had weepy days where you just feel sad and unmotivated and maybe even like staying in bed all day.

Everybody has days like those.

Or everybody has had days that they have so much energy that they feel like they can accomplish anything—that you are the best at your job and can do no wrong.  Good days and bad days--just part of being human.

Now imagine that the off day doesn’t ever end.  You feel like there is no way to escape, other than possibly suicide.  You don’t want to get out of bed, you can’t squeak out a complete sentence because you can’t get the words together in your head to make any sense at all.

Sometimes all you can do is lie on your bed or the couch and stare off into space, not thinking of anything at all, just staring, unable to move. You don’t feel like showering or going anywhere or seeing anyone. You don’t feel like eating because what’s the point?

Then you turn around and suddenly you are so angry that you can’t get the rage under control.  Usually it is over some little insignificant thing that 30 minutes later you can’t even remember why you were mad, but still can’t shake that “I hate the world and everyone in it” feeling.

Or the worst is feeling so hyper that you think you can do anything.  You have boundless energy, but you can’t control that either, so you get really crazy and do some bizarre and dangerous things.  You are insulting and hateful and despite all your energy, can’t seem to accomplish anything because you are trying to do too much at once and can’t stay focused on the task at hand.

This is my life.

From the bottom of the barrel, to the top of the mountain, and back down again—hard and fast and painful.

This is something that has certainly plagued my adult life and prevents me from realizing the potential that I may have once possessed, but seem to have lost somewhere over the last twenty years. This is the only me my kids have ever known and I’m sure it has messed them up pretty well.  I hope not, because I would never be able to forgive myself if that happened.  But I am not a very good mother.  That fact has been well established over the years.

Even though in my adult life, this illness has totally and fully manifested itself, I really think this is something that is just part of my chemical makeup and has been from day one.  I don’t know how I was as a little kid, but I know by the time I was in elementary school that things were already a little off.  I really believed that no one liked me, that I was fat and ugly and didn’t deserve any friends.

I remember several times when I was about 10, that I imagined all the kids from my class were standing around my bed and pointing and laughing and saying how ugly and fat I was.  It was like it was real—that they were really there and I couldn’t get away from them.  It happened at night, it happened in the morning.  I would even wake up in the middle of the night with them there.  I guess that was the first indication that I was not alright.  I never told anyone then, because I was afraid I really was crazy.  Plus I knew my mother would just laugh at me and tell me I was ridiculous and to get over it.  Just like always.

By the time I was about 12, I really had become an outsider.  Everything in my life was dark, my friends were mostly losers and outsiders.  I just hated my life.  I wanted to die, but I was too scared.  By the time I made it to high school, I did make some close friends, but I could never explain to them or anyone else how I felt.  I never really had boyfriends.  Oh, one or two here or there, but they thought nothing of me, other than a sex toy—not a person.

College wasn’t much better, in fact it was probably worse.  As soon as I graduated, I got married to the first guy that could remember my name.  It didn’t last long, of course, only a year or less.  But it was really the first time that my illness really became obvious.  I was finished with school and managing a Burger King, but I was also really having a tough time focusing and I would lose it fairly often at home.  Small wonder he ultimately left.


Once, when I was married this first time, my husband came home to find me in tears over a plant that was dying.  I couldn’t get it out of my head that I would never be able to keep a family alive if I couldn’t keep a stupid plant alive.  I was out of my mind with grief and unable to function. Nothing he did helped and everything he tried just made me more and more angry.

Another time, I was cooking dinner and he was trying to tell me what order to put the ingredients in for mac ‘n’ cheese.  I didn’t want to listen and threw a temper tantrum about it.  Ultimately, everything ended up on the floor and I refused to clean it up.  He wanted to be in charge, then let him do it.  We divorced not much longer after that.

Eventually, I moved back home and was fairly calm for awhile.  I was working on losing weight—not very effectively, but trying.  I guess I had always viewed my problems as stemming from my weight.  My mother always told me I was fat and I understood I wasn’t very attractive.  I had no idea that my erratic behavior might be what drove people away.  I had no true idea of how erratic my behavior was, in fact.

Over the next few years, I did date a little, but nothing serious.  I think I was so desperate and so needy that every guy could sense it and didn’t want anything to do with that.

Eventually, though, I met a man that I still believe to be my soul mate. He had the maturity and the sense to realize that something was really wrong with me.  He is the first one that recognized that I needed help. He checked me into the psych ward at our local hospital.  They decided I was an alcoholic and sent me to treatment.

At the treatment facility, I wasn’t medicated at all, but my problems shone through.  The counselor even told me that I wasn’t ready to admit that I was an alcoholic, but that I had some other issues that I needed to work through with a psychiatrist, and that I probably needed medication.  She was right.  I wasn’t ready to admit I was an alcoholic (I still don’t think I am.  I don’t crave alcohol and I can take it or leave it.  Even when I go out, I will only have a couple of beers or whiskey cokes.  I don’t have any interest in getting drunk, so I still don’t believe her.)  She did, however, plant the seed that I had other problems I would need to be dealt with first.  I just didn’t know what they were.

Ultimately, after a few more hospitalizations, I was diagnosed with bipolar depression.  Once I started on some medication, it helped.  I started to be able to see things more clearly and I wasn’t so emotional anymore.  I could focus on my job, and everything started to get a little better.  Unfortunately, the effectiveness of many medications wear off or lessen over time.  So every couple years, I begin to fall apart and need to try something different.

Another problem with the meds is that they can cause you to gain weight, which simply mortifies me.  If I start to gain weight, I panic and stop taking it.  This, of course, sends me into a tailspin again.  Sometimes, I just run out and then don’t have any money to get the refill.  I don’t drive anymore, so I am dependent on my mother to take me places and she hates to “waste her time” to do this, especially to get prescriptions filled.  She doesn’t think I need them, but can’t deal with me when I am off them.

I ultimately did get married again, but I’m sure it was out of desperation, too.  He needed someone to take care of him and I needed someone to take care of me.  We had two beautiful girls over the 5 years we were married.  Then he found someone to move on with and started cheating on me with her.  I divorced him.  He stayed married to her for 5 years also, and then moved on from her.  She got revenge, though, and accused him of molesting one of her daughters.  He is in prison now for the next 7 years.  Shit happens.

It has been 15 years since we divorced and my problems still flare up fairly often.  I try to deal with it as best I can, but I don’t always do it successfully.  I have attempted suicide a couple of times and overdosed a couple times, too.  I can no longer seem to hold a job for very long anymore.  I have slept with a few men since then, but as I have said before, I am prepared to spend the rest of my life alone. Once my kids are grown, then no one but me has to deal with the problem.

I have considered applying for social security disability, based on my mental illness and the fact that I seem to have injured my knee beyond help.  I can’t stand very long and my energy wanes very quickly once I start doing something.  I guess that is an option I should explore.  I should also probably get out and walk to build up my strength and maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.  I may even get to lose some more weight.

Some good things have happened over the years.  I have managed to lose over 100 pounds and I am still trying to lose more.  I have about 50 more to go.  I have wonderful, beautiful, intelligent daughters who are the lights of my life.  They are simply amazing and I love them with all my heart. I wouldn’t still be alive if I didn’t have them.  There is a long road ahead of us, but we can make it together.

Peace and love,

Angela