Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I've Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic's Mood Chart (24 page)

Two years ago this coming week, I started writing this blog as a form of therapeutic release, a way to tell my family and friends what was really going on in this crazy head of mine, and maybe as a way to share the craziness in my life for the world to hopefully enjoy. Over the past two years, I’ve seen not only myself but my blog change because of BMD, and I believe it’s for the better. I came to this conclusion with the following statistical support from random bipolar websites (don’t act like you’re not impressed, but if you doubt me check out my references at the back of the book).
 

Roughly . . .

2 percent of the U.S. population are bipolar
 

70 percent of that 2 percent are depressed
 

.6 percent of the population are then manic
 

50 percent of that .6 percent have psychosis in their mania
 

50 percent of the .3 percent with psychosis have chronic manic episode issues

.15 percent chance I’d have this form of BMD. Well, add in the fact that I also have zero family history of bipolar disorder and that number probably shrinks even more, but I had no luck finding that obscure bipolar stat on the World Wide Web.

After I initially tracked down and put together these statistics, the feeling I had was a little tough to accurately describe. Let me try to compare it to something. OK, like let’s say I’m driving down the road in my Jeep (Jeep wave) on a sunny, clear summer day when suddenly a lightning bolt strikes fifty feet in front of me with no visible signs of clouds anywhere around. The only thing going through my mind at that point (as with the statistics) is:
“What the
 
fuck
 
is going on?”

I mean, how in the hell does this BMD not affect me and change me? I feel as though everything in this world is always changing. This of course would include me, and to think that I have BMD and believe I could stop this change is absolutely crazy. I have difficulty looking at the numbers above and believing that they mean nothing, that I should continue with my life and not try to change. I’m better than that now, and that’s exactly how I know BMD has changed me: I no longer run from it but rather embrace it and look to it to define me.

Session

JP: Well, didn’t they just break the mold with you.

DT: Weird. My sis is the only other person I’ve ever heard phrase it like that.

JP: I know; I spoke with her last night about ya.

DT: Of course you did.

ORANGE

(ELEVATED MODERATE MOODS, SIGNIFICANT IMPAIRMENT, ABLE TO WORK)

KEY TERMS:
BLOG, CRAZY PERSON, “GOURNAL,” UNDENIABLY BAD

Submitted on 6/10/09

Orange

I thought about starting this blog off with an excerpt from my “gournal.” Let’s just get this out there. If you:

A.) don’t get the “gournal” joke/reference or

B.) refuse to think it’s funny after you research it online, just stop reading right now. This will more than likely be a complete waste of your time, and this blog is better than that negativity and non-committal mentality you have.

Great, now that we’ve weeded out the casual readers, I’ll go ahead and tell you that the above “gournal” reference is from
Wet Hot American Summer.
If you have not had the luxury of opening your mind to limitless humor for about an hour and half, I suggest you watch this movie. If you have, I challenge you to watch it with the farts option right now and come back to finish reading this. And if you have done both, well, congrats because you’re officially T.A.N. I guess I should get to the point before I lose any more of you to credible blogs or websites that actually have a point, and get to it before the second paragraph: I’m bipolar and this is my medicine. There, got it in before the second paragraph. Take that, haters.

Now, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty. Yes I had to google that term to make sure I used it correctly and guess what, I did. OK, sort of. I used knitty first and got a bunch of hits for baby cats, also known as kittens; man, do people go mental over kittens. In any case, I was diagnosed with manic-depressive disorder about eighteen months ago, and since then my life has been quite interesting to say the least. When I talk about being bipolar or manic-depressive (or BMD for the trendy abbreviations-minded peeps out there) people usually think I’m morbidly depressed or some kind of a crazy person. In all honesty, I would say maybe I’m a little crazy, but come to think of it, who wants to be normal? If you find a normal person who’s fun to hang out with, go ahead and give up because your life is no longer interesting (that’s a joke; please don’t really give up but do think about making some serous changes). I wanted to start this blog to get some stuff off my chest and to hopefully laugh at how my bipolar life ends up.

As few of you know and probably fewer care about, BMD is characterized by emotional highs and lows throughout life in seemingly just about the most ridiculous occurrences and times in my life. Try to imagine the best/scariest/most thrilling roller coaster you’ve ever been on and multiply that by about ten. For those of you who have never been on a roller coaster, you’re probably lame and aren’t reading this so we should be good with that metaphor.

Side note: For those of you who have already probably begun picking out and degrading this blog because of my poor grammar and punctuation, well, to you I say, deal with it. See, funny story about that is, my freshman year English prof actually wrote on my inspirational essay about my dad that I had dishonored my father with my poor grammar and punctuation. I’ve since made peace with it and moved on. So should you.

Anyway, back to my comparison. Imagine that you are in the front car of this roller coaster and slowly moving your way up the first hill when all of a sudden, right before the apex on the hill, the loudspeaker comes on and the operator of the coaster announces:

“
We are sorry to inform the riders that the brakes on this ride have malfunctioned and there is unfortunately no way for us to control the roller coaster. Good luck, and we’ll be pulling for you.” Yeah, this could be unbelievably awesome or undeniably bad.

I’ve had some unbelievably awesome experiences while manic and some undeniably bad times as well. I’ve tried to take the medical approach of seeing psychiatrists and psychologists (yes, kids, that’s right, these professions are not one and the same, I had no idea either) who have had me on a few types of meds that really didn’t work for me. I’ve tried groups and individual therapy, but they just didn’t do it for me, so I’ve decided that I’ll try this. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? I start climbing houses and running around half-naked, trying to elude capture from the KGB? Wait, that’s already happened; we’ll get to those stories soon enough. So please make sure your seat belt is tight around your waist, and please keep your arms and legs inside the car during the ride (unless you wanna have a lot of fun, of course).

Session

JP: Roller coasters seem to be a common metaphor for bipolar disorder. It’s obviously a reflection of the way bipolar disorder can take people to the highest of highs and down to the lowest of lows, rapidly and unpredictably.

DT: Yeah, it can be exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time, making you chase the manic high to the point where you uncontrollably come crashing back down to reality, so hard that it rocks you from within.

JP: Yeah, that wouldn’t really agree with me. Roller coasters and I never really got along so much; that’s the main reason I stopped going to Kings Island. Well, that and they took out my favorite Smurf ride.

DT: Dude, I
loved
that ride too.

Submitted on 6/11/09

Orange

I guess if you have made it this far (and by far I mean the second entry, so don’t be too proud of yourself but thanks for being a loyal friend and follower) I at least owe you some idea of how I plan to lay out this blog. I first had the idea to look around the Internet for other blogs about BMD to see how they were formatted and structured, but then realized that was a totally lame idea. I didn’t want to be influenced somehow or subconsciously persuaded to follow the format of someone else’s blog and steal their creative mojo. Plus, taking the time to read all those blogs just wasn’t in the cards . . . OK, you got me. The time thing was the real reason, but I wanted to try and sound intelligent for a minute. My mistake. It won’t happen again.

So I’m basically winging it out here and just seeing how it goes, but in my opinion I think I’m rocking it out already. After a long deliberation (otherwise known as watching
The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
reruns and eating pizza) I’ve decided to write about my latest manic experience, and if there hasn’t been one in a while, I’ll dabble back to my gournal and let you into my first full-blown manic episode that happened last year. Try to contain your excitement; I know my hands are already shaking.

As I mentioned, I experienced my first manic episode back in 2008 while living in the quaint little mountain metropolis known as Denver, Colorado. While I won’t get into the details just yet, I will say that I was provided a nice retreat for about a week, where I could get to relax and hang out with some real interesting people. Thanks, Porter Hospital Psychiatric Ward. It was during this time that I was first put on some medication to try and get me back to normal, whatever normal is.

I tried to stay on Depakene and Abilify for about eight months, but let me tell you, it was like I was one of those zombies from Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video minus the sweet dance moves. With some support, and by some I mean basically none, I decided to wean (funny word, go ahead, say it aloud . . . told you it’s funny) myself off the meds and see how I did without them.

Now, if someone suffering from BMD or any other mental condition comes across this entry and decides to follow my lead, please note this disclaimer:

I am not a physician and do not have the qualifications to advise or promote anyone to drop off their meds that were prescribed to them.

I tried an “Ask a Lawyer” website to see if I needed that disclaimer, but they needed my email and some form of payment, so I decided to pass and write that little entry down; I should be good I think (50-50). In any case, since being clean I’ve reverted back to the self that I know, which is good for me and even better for humanity. But as I said, I still have some experiences of mania. The first one that I’ll tell you about convinced me to start this blog. Buckle up because here we go on that roller coaster.

One of the cooler aspects of my mania is that colors play a big role in what’s going on. For instance, I was driving from The Nasty over to my gym to get my swell on (that’s a lie; I was actually working out to try and get back into shape after gaining twenty pounds from the meds, another side effect that sucks) when I started to drift into mania. I started thinking about why this particular blue car (have no idea of make or model, but stay with me as it doesn’t matter, or at least to me it doesn’t) was stopped at the light in the Y crossing just in front of me.

Why was that car blue? Not the chemical reason, because I’m pretty sure that explanation is way above my head. OK, not pretty sure--I’m positive it is because I’m not sure it’s even chemistry; it might have something to do with light. And why was it at that stop light at this exact time, and why was I so focused on it? The easy answers are that the driver was on their way home, and that I should get over this thing with the car. But at times I think, there’s the problem, I just let things go without appreciating or thinking about what’s really going on. In any case, for some reason my mind started racing about how the car was there as part of a plan that had me driving by this place at this exact time to see this blue car and trigger this ridiculous rhetoric I am now writing.

I proceeded to the gym and flew through my workout, my mind running wild with what I wanted to do in terms of starting this blog and what I wanted to write about. Bottom line: I wanted to share this craziness with the world. I convinced myself that this was not only a good idea, but probably the best idea I’ve had since I was manic and decided to send a dozen sunflowers to Britney Spears last year on
my
birthday (still a little disappointed that I never got a thank-you from Brit, though).