I feel regret.. Bipolar disorder is a thief. The main thing it steals from you is precious time. I spend so much of my days battling depression and time goes by without me engaging in life. I have deep regrets about the time I have lost and the experiences and relationships I have missed out on. There is no getting that time back so I have to be careful not to go gung ho after an episode of depression. I have to take my time to make up for lost time. I don't want to go manic playing catch up!
I mourn the past and memories "pop" up, interfering with the present... For instance last week in an attempt to cut my diet coke consumption I bought Arizona Iced Tea drops. No biggie right!? But it brought back of a memory of a board and care where I lived after the hospital where I did the same thing. The problem was that my housemate used to drink my Crystal Light in the middle of the night during one of his kitchen raids. There was no confrontation with him about it though. He was six-four and weighed about 240. He too was bipolar and often symptomatic and violent. His days were spent walking to the liquor store and smoking cigarettes and the occasional joint. His rants were disturbing at best and so I let his infraction be. I hated being around him let alone living with him. He was the stereotypical mental patient and I wanted nothing to do with him. I was angry that I was so sick that I had to share space with such a lost soul. Mostly I was at a loss as to how to cope with an impossible living situation. Memories of that time in recovery creep into my thought life and make it difficult to engage in the moment.
I grapple with the present... There is so much damage control after an episode of depression or mania. Not only do you feel compelled to make up for lost time, you seek to repair broken relationships and broken dreams. You lose things. I have, at times, lost the ability to make and maintain friendships, the fortitude to keep on a consistent career path and most of all the sustainability of hope to fulfill my dreams and desires. Depression is a dark place of the soul and it is devoid of hope. Hope is the element that usually drives me forward to pursuing my dreams yet it is sadly lacking in my depressive episodes. So, once out of a deep depression , I access the destruction of every thing vital in my life and throw up my hands in surrender. It is too much and the effort to correct and repair everything is overwhelming. There is a kind of grief that sets in, which causes the cycle to start all over again. That is why it is so important in my opinion to acknowledge these losses. I need to get it out in order to move on.
I fear the future... My biggest fear is that I will have another major episode. Despite faithfully taking medication and seeking therapy I am afraid of another mania, another psychotic break. It is a terrifying thing to be afraid of yourself! As my Irish Grandmother used to say, "Wherever you go, there you are!" I am faced with the realization that my brain is fragile, it can and has been broken. What is paralyzing for me is the anticipation of yet another episode, another period of emotional bankruptcy. How can you plan or hope for a future with bipolar disorder?
During these times I have to remind myself that I am not unique to these questions about the future. Every one struggles to keep the present in view and let the future take care of itself. I have to reconcile the fact that I am vulnerable to another episode and therefore must be on guard. In the present, I can do all I can to prevent another bipolar event. I need to trust the medication I am on. I need to give professionals, family and friends the permission to assess how I am doing and point out flaws in my thinking or behavior. Most of all I need to stay in the day and face it with as much courage as possible using all the tools I have learned.
I question whether or not I can answer the big question, "Will I have a life worth living while living with bipolar disorder?"... The answer is still not a resounding yes. I started out after this episode with a definite maybe and have progressed from a whispered, "I think I can", to a more confident, "I can if I work at it!" The missing ingredient that is rarely taught or acknowledged here is courage. It takes courage to put up a fight against a mental illness and even more courage to answer the questions it imposes. It is not only the big questions that beg answering but the little ones as well. "Do I have the ability to get out of bed today? Can I take a shower and face the day?" I believe you learn courage by living through the most difficult of times. It is a matter of living on despite an illness and clinging to hope despite all evidence to the contrary. So it will be in the daily living, the moments that add up, and the decisions I make that will determine the quality of my life.
So what am I going to do with all these feelings that come rushing in in the peace and calm of stability? I guess I am going to face the difficult questions and participate anyway! Feelings, I am learning, are neither good or bad , they just are. So I am grateful that I am feeling at all. Not numb like in depression and not euphoric to the point of oblivion like in mania, but rather in a balanced state of mind, in a place to heal and feel at the same time. It will be interesting to see how long I can preserve this period of stability. I hope it lasts for a significant amount of time so I can face all my doubts and fears and enter a new phase of my life.
I want the future to be filled with solid achievements and consistency. That's the next step in my recovery. If I move beyond my feelings of remorse, grief,sadness and fear, I believe I can live fully with a mental illness diagnosis. I don't want to stay stuck in depression and miss out on life, neither do I want to be so out of touch in mania that I lose precious time. Even keel. steady as she goes, stability, consistency, balance, these are the words I want to hallmark my progress. Bipolar has claimed enough of my life and I recognize that it is time to take some of the ground back. Here, in stability, is where the hard work of recovery really begins.
