S.O.S.
Hypomania feels good, but if I disappear for a month it's because I was forced back to inpatient treatment.
This is crazy. Starting a blog based on the most vulnerable aspect of my life? Great idea. Preaching into the void on the nature of bipolar disorder, a taboo topic we’ve been conditioned to keep secret. A mental function that can not be seen, heard, or felt by the normies of society (that is until it’s too late). The thought of this blog is that there is something here for everyone. While I’m specifically targeting those with the same diagnosis as me (bipolar 1), the anxiety and depression that go hand in hand with this illness everyone can generally relate to. My tribe of crazies* have these same “moods” just more so.
My mood has been steadily ramping up since the beginning of January 2023. Coincidently the same point in time when I started hitting the gym again post-COVID. At 6’ 3” I was back to my collegiate football weight of 280 pounds, the most I have weighed as a muggle (non-athlete). It is a known trope within my family that my weight loss directly correlates with my MANIC behavior. Personally, I’m not content with keeping them happy by staying sad and fat, which is exactly how they like me: under control.
So I decided before this year began that I wouldn’t weigh myself until the end of April. Giving me four solid months of weightlifting before I stress out over how many pounds I’ve lost. Muscle weighs more than fat, so whenever I start a new weightlifting phase I always put on a few pounds upfront which can be discouraging to those who don’t know the science.
Compared to January, I look better, I feel better, and I’m getting more attention from women. Is this because of how I now look, or because I have more confidence due to a physical upgrade? As with most things, I’d say it’s a little bit of column A and a little bit of column B.
After a solid night’s sleep (9 pm - 5 am) complete with taking both my Lithium and Abilify before bed, my mood is feeling pretty smooth. While I can still find joy in the moments that make me smile, there is no extreme excitement pertaining to the future. I feel no burden to speak my truth or to get the last word in a conversation. If I feel a need to talk about mental health, I just do it here. To my therapist Dave, this is where I’ve been housing my “pressured speech.”
Pressured speech is when you talk faster than usual. You may feel like you can't stop. It's different than talking fast because you're excited or you naturally speak that way. You might jump from one idea to the next. People could have trouble following the conversation.
This past week things began circling back to the same old pattern within my familial unit in regard to my current “mood-state”. Only this time I believe my situation has turned a notable corner breaking way to a positive outcome for yours truly. This has not been easy. Somehow I had gotten myself in the same exact situation I was in during that nebulous period before my great Lakeview escape. This time though, staying at my parent’s house was voluntary. Over a decade after the Wolverine Experience, I like to think I’ve learned to “play the game” better as it pertains to my bipolar and the cycle of reactivity.
To me, “the game” is simply a fun way to look at getting ahead in life. As Jordan Peterson would say “Like all games, there is an agreed-upon set of rules, a social contract between participants, otherwise everything’s just bloody chaos.” In my reality, this game can lead down some dark paths: straight jacket electroshock padded room and/or life under a bridge. No, I’m not just being dramatic. These are two very possible outcomes that have been weighing on me during the past tumultuous years.
Every time my sister says “You’re acting weird” or my mom says “How much sleep did you get last night?” Or any of them ask “Have you been taking your medicine?” Those dark outcomes are on the line for me, so I don’t take the gaslighting lightly. Safe to say any of the comments above just piss me right off.
“Believe me when I say we have a difficult time ahead of us. But if we are to be prepared for it, we must first shed our fear of it.” - Morpheus from “The Matrix Reloaded”
So for now I play “the game”, and for now, I am at least a self-aware slave. My parents say jump, I say how high? They say take this job, I take this job. They say that job isn’t working out, I say where do you want me? It’s an exhausting process but I’ve learned the hard way what happens when I fight the tidal forces that rule my reality.
I hate how my “elevated mood” is automatically regarded as a red flag by those I am still held accountable. Nothing triggers me faster than my father accusing my behavior of being MANIC. In fact, this happened today and let’s just say I could have handled that text from him better. Sorry dad.
Can things be different this time? Can I successfully navigate the pressure of this life and return as a better person? Am I learning from my previous mistakes only to find new ways to burn it all to the ground? I’m asking you. If these words don’t articulate a coherent thought and I’m coming off as a raging lunatic, someone please sneak up and put a dart in my neck. If you have to take me anywhere I’d prefer Emory, but I don’t think another month-long hospital stay is currently in the budget.
The words of this article are fresh as in they have been written and edited throughout the week of 04/17/2023. I believe I’m safe for now, but I’ve been wrong before which has led to catastrophic fallout.
The thing is, I’m aware of it. The thing about that is, awareness is not a cure in itself. I learned last MANIC episode that even though I was aware of my elevated mood, said awareness did not stop my erratic behavior from going off the rails. I felt as if my person was under siege from all angles. A cornered animal is at its most dangerous, an apt analogy for a MANIC-minded individual such as myself.
“Ya know, you're a single guy without roots in the ground…”
“I hear what you're saying Mr. Boss, and personally I hate that corporate line of garbage. I’d love to have a wife, kids, and a house right now. Unfortunately, I don’t make enough money to afford any of those things.”
The hard part I’m continuing to learn is recognizing when the threats to my personhood are “real” or imagined. Am I connecting dots that aren’t there, or am I just picking up on my boss’s foreboding motivations faster than he imagined? Labeling me a malcontent.
Don’t get me wrong, in a professional therapeutic manner I gave my boss’s boss the business when he ambushed me two Fridays ago. Enough to reach my father’s position immediately after. I didn’t make a scene at that impromptu lunch, I just didn’t roll over like a good boy. Bad Mike! Bad boy!
Whatever threat detection mechanism persists in my brain gets heightened tenfold when I’m MANIC. Cranked to eleven every slight or trivial hazard is recognized, cataloged, and acted upon. Thing is, I wasn’t MANIC during that ambush lunch, and I’m not MANIC now. My “new normal” might just be that of a hypomanic badass.
For now, I’ve broken the siege and the enemy forces are retreating. A little med experimentation has taken place replacing my Abilify with Saphris (both prescribed, the Saphris being from a sample pack given to me during my last stay in treatment). This week (04/24/2023) I’ll do a deep dive into my meds, the changes that have been made, and how said changes affect my “mood.” For now, I believe both sides have sued for peace, and I’m enjoying the present moment. Thanks B.
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Pen pals, I’m in! (Well until I’m temporarily not, but you get that 😆.)
I can see you have learned a lot about yourself, Mike. You don’t just live with B, you are a student of it. And the more you learn and adjust the better you are navigating life with it. I’m impressed. I don’t meet many like you. And I totally relate with the fact that just because we are self-aware, doesn’t mean we won’t spiral up or down at any moment. Somehow I see that you are grounded even when you are up or down, high or low. I think you do have roots. Some pretty kick a** strong ones too.💪
It’s hard when those around us fear the very thing that we live with. And whose to blame them, it’s scary and confusing as heck. The thing is I’m not afraid of your B1. Do I want you or anyone else to have to live with it? No. Do I wish I could take it away? Yes. But at the same time, it is the lens through which we see the world. And that lens has seen some of the most brilliant colors and some of the darkest ones. We see ourselves and the world around us differently. Not bad. Different. We go through hell to be able to see and feel like we do. There are others out there who feel invisible and alone. It is worth it for me to be here if one person feels seen and loved.
I used to fear my B2. In fact, I hated it. I wanted to wrestle that diagnosis to the death. But being at war within myself and in hiding for years did me NO favors. As for when I showed my face... funny you should ask bc it didn’t happen all at once. I started a blog going on 5 years ago where in fear and actual trembling I talked about living with depression. Wasn’t ready for the big B yet. And the only photo of myself was a distant side profile of me standing on the beach. That was as close as I was going to let people get. It wasn’t until a year ago that I decided to start my own Substack to tell my Bipolar story with my actual face. Great question. Thank you for asking. ❤️
I think you will know when it is right for you. There is no rush. And if you feel rushed, it’s probably not the right time. For now, that might complicate things for you and keep you from freely writing and sharing. My little piece of advice take it or leave it would be asking yourself, why are you here writing in this space and what is helping you show up to do just that?
Cheering for you!
❤️, Amy
S.O.S. received and handled with care. Even as a B2, I relate so much. The deeply vulnerable sharing of our lives. The feeling surrounded, under attack. https://amymcvay.substack.com/p/dearly-bipolar-hospitality. The not knowing where it's going to take you. The family comments. There have been many times I wanted to punch someone in the face if they mentioned a med adjustment or just hand them the shovel and say, go ahead and bury me why don't you. It's true.
You asked a question... "Can things be different this time?" I will offer an observation for what it's worth. Though I don't know the outcome of your current state, you sharing here in this space is something different. You having a place to "house your pressured speech" is doing something for you and others that is good. (Thank you for sharing this about "pressured speech". I never knew it had a name, but I know I've experienced it in my MANIC states.) It seems to me like you have found a creative channel. A new route for what you are experiencing, that maybe you didn't have before..?
I am curious how it has felt for you starting to write and share in this way? Believe me, I know it is not a fix all. At times I find it incredibly painful because I am writing about something I still live with. But I know it is good. It is connection over isolation. Normalcy instead of stigma. For that, I thank you.
This came to mind after I read your post. https://amymcvay.com/2021/12/24/fragile/
Read or not, whatever is good for you. Just hope you know someone else is out there.
With you,
Amy