Take Your Illness Seriously

I went to my psychiatrist this week. He asked me how I have been doing and I said "awful." He looked me straight in the eye and said "When are you going to start taking your illness seriously?"

Well, I thought I had been taking it seriously. I see my doctor regularly, try to keep the correct diet, exercise, and sleep schedule. I keep trying to take care of my bipolar without medicine, and that is why he asked me when I will take my illness seriously. There are people who can take care of their mental illness through exercise and nutrition, apparently I am just not one of them. When I can do all of the lifestyle adjustments perfectly, I remain pretty stable, but not if life gets too stressful, or I forget an element of the program for a few days, or I am out late for a meeting and don't get to bed on time. Basically, he was asking when I would accept the fact that my illness is too severe to be able to control without medication.



My doctor knows I need to be on medication, and also knows it needs to be my decision. However, I don't want to take it. There are not many I can take because I am so sensitive to medication. I can't take anything for the ADD because all of those pills made the bipolar worse. When I take very low doses of the few things that do help, my creativity lessens greatly, which makes my job harder, as writing is quite essential to preaching.

I do take my illness seriously, but I don't know that I am ready to accept I can't do this on my own. Part of it is because I am scared of medications and the side effects I encounter on them. The other part is the societal belief that people with mental illness can choose to get better. Much of society believes if we just worked harder, stopped being so sensitive, and tried harder, we would be fine. While intellectually, I know that is not true, emotionally, I feel like a weak failure because I can't take care of this myself. I try to combat this negative thinking, but it is still in the back of my mind that if I were a better, stronger, smarter person, I would not be sick.

I think I can take my illness seriously, but this will take some getting used to because this is the first time I have felt despair that I may not ever get better. On medication, I have never been stable, just about 20% better. Off medication, there were only a few times I have been 70% percent better, but only for a month or two, then I am a wreck. I feel like now, with the understanding that my illness is bad and I have to take medication, that I have to decide either to be a emotionless and uncreative medicated blob, or a raving lunatic. I am not sure I like either of those choices, but all we can do is deal with what we have.

So, we are changing my medication for what feels like the thousandth time, and I am afraid of it. I am afraid of the side effects and afraid of loosing the parts of myself that I do like, such as my creativity. I guess I just have to decide that I am serious about managing this even though I might loose something in the process.

Perfectionism, ADD, and Organizing: Not a Good Mix

My husband recently asked me how I used to be able to stage manage shows, or how I can plan church work, but I can't organize my own office. (Well, I can organize my own office, but usually only in a manic organizing fit and it never stays organized.)

I can organize and manage things outside of myself because I can see the individual steps and I can see an end to someone else's task, but not my own. I am too close to my own stuff to be able to see the individual parts. When I look at my office, I see a ton of stuff and no plan. I get overwhelmed, panic, and become unable to decide what to do next. I can sit in my office for hours and get three-fourths of the room done and be paralyzed with being unable to figure out the last steps to complete the project.

However, invite me into your office, and I can organize the heck out of it. You will have a place for everything, and everything in it's place. And here is where the other problem lies.

I want everything to be perfect. If something can't be perfect, my first instinct is that it's worthless. If my office can't be perfectly organized, with a place for everything, I think it is pointless to try and put things away. I can't visualize where the individual pieces will go, so they just get tossed on my desk. Part of the perfectionism is because if I don't see something, I forget about it. I need things to be perfect so I don't forget anything.

For instance, I actually had all my makeup organized in labeled drawers, yet I barely used any of it. This is because I couldn't see it. The ideal storage system for me would be to have everything hanging on my walls so I see it at all times. As a step in this direction, that is what I did with my makeup this week, I hung it on a magnetic board.



Most people don't understand why I just can't get it together and be organized. Literally, I just can't do it. Multi-step systems of organizing, like writing appointments down and transferring it to my calendar, are too confusing. I always forget to transfer the information because if it is not in front of me, I don't remember to do it.

I have been told, and read in various books, that the inattention and inability to see the individual pieces of a project are due to my Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD.) The perfectionism is part of both the bipolar disorder and the ADD.

I have tried everything to figure out how to deal with these complications of my illness and I have yet to find a solution. I have read a ton of organizing books and they all are too complicated for me. There are files, steps, bins, buckets, and rules as to how many times you touch a piece of mail.

If anyone has a system that works for you, I would love to hear about it. I could always hire a stage manager for my own life, and I am seriously contemplating doing that.

Blessings,
Rev. Katie

Do You See What I See?

Sometimes I don't realize how odd my bipolar mind can be unless I am talking to my very rational, very linear, very stoic husband. I don't know how he does not see the world like I do. How come music does not bring him to tears, or make him feel deeply connected to something larger than himself. How come sad stories in the news don't make him feel as if the world is doomed to be horrible forever? How come stories of incredible generosity do not give him faith in humans and hope for a better world? Why isn't everything either filled with beauty, music, and color, or darkness and despair? Why can't he stay up until 3am because some issue is so important that we have to talk about it right now? Why can't he feel another person's pain or fear? Where is all the passion, beauty, fear, and anxiety in life?

I feel like he is missing out on life at times, but I am pretty sure if both of us were this way we could never stay together. It frustrates me that sometimes I can not connect with him on the intense level I function at each day. I am a little sad that he will never see what I see. However, it is his stability and logical yet creative mind that keeps my overly creative mind from taking over our lives. His mind makes him great at what he does, and mine makes me great at what I do.

He always says he likes how I am more artistically creative and more empathetic than he is. He feels he has learned a lot about how to care about other people and connect socially from me. He has taught me how to take my instincts and process them so I know what logical next steps to take. Together we make a pretty good mix.

It is hard not to feel alone in your illness if people around you do not see life as you do. This is one of the things that can break up people who love each other. It seems like you can't connect sometimes, or your partner does not understand you. Just because others do not see what we see, that does not mean we are alone. It is up to us to realize  we still have connections with others and it is probably our differences that make us great partners or friends.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

The "Evil Spirits" Myth

I noticed this week that my blog came up under a search for the phrase "do evil spirits cause bi-polar." My blog was a search result probably because of the previous post I did about what religion has taught me about mental illness over the years. In my younger years it was not a positive message.

One of the reasons I wanted to write this blog about bipolar and spirituality was to help dispel this myth that evil spirits cause bipolar disorder. Whenever I would do a search of "bipolar spirituality," the evil spirits myth would pop up as a search result.

Photo by Jeff Norris

Besides the fact that it is just not scientifically possible for evil spirits to take you over, I also don't like that this line of thinking implies those of us with mental illness have no agency. If something else has taken us over and controls us, then there is nothing we can do. It is like being a puppet. We can't get better, we have no free will, we also have no responsibility. What that really means is that we have no hope. For me, hope is one of the things I need in order to live with this illness.

In the midst of deep depression, during mania, or thoughts of what life would be like without me here, I need hope. Hope is the feeling that what is wanted can be had. I want a happy and healthy life. Hope tells me that I can keep going. It says this whole month might be bad, but maybe one day next month will be good. Hope reminds me that I can learn to manage my illness. I can know myself well enough to notice triggers and stop a downward spiral.

It is extremely devastating and dangerous to promote the myth that bipolar disorder is caused by evil spirits. There are actual counseling centers and religious institutions that teach this myth. I really feel that for counseling centers, it should be considered malpractice to tell people they are taken over by evil spirits. I have no words for how scary it is to think something evil possesses you.

For all of you who, like me, were taught that mental illness is caused by evil spirits, it's not true. It is a chemical imbalance, it may be hard but you can manage it, and you have choice in your own life.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

Mania

I have been reading a lot about bipolar disorder online and watching videos of people's stories and I noticed something interesting. People seem very comfortable talking about the depression side of bipolar, but they hardly ever mention the manic side. They will go into detail about their suicidal thoughts, feelings of hopelessness, inability to work or care for themselves and others. Then they say, in passing, that they also have manic episodes.

Is this because depression is becoming a bit less stigmatized so it is easier to talk about? Is this because mania is the part that scares other people? Is this because mania is when we do really embarrassing or stupid things?

Mania is described as a feeling of euphoria, feelings of grandiosity, reckless actions such as excessive spending, feeling that nothing bad will ever happen to you, fast speech, and racing thoughts. In my experience, this is the part of bipolar that people are most scared of. No one wants you making a fool of yourself at a party, spending all of your savings, speeding down the highway, or Facebooking and texting while manic. We do not want this to happen either, and I think that is why we don't talk about it.

I was not diagnosed correctly with bipolar disorder until I finally told my doctor about symptoms that I was too embarrassed to mention. My mania is actually more anger than euphoria. I might speed down the street not out of a sense that I am invincible, but because I am so mad.

I noticed the other day that I was in a manic phase, but it was a bit different than what I was used to. I had turned up the music really loud and was dancing and singing with my son. I did feel euphoric and like nothing bad could ever happen. I also didn't notice that it was 10pm and the backyard speakers were on so I think the neighbors got a bit too much Selena Gomez and Black Eyed Peas when they were trying to sleep. Happy mania is new for me, and if it is controlled, can make for some really fun times with my son who laughs hysterically at me.

I have no scientific evidence to back this up, but I think that some of us may manifest mania as anger or happiness based on our life situation. When I was little, there were many things that happened in my life that made me mad, such as illness of loved ones for one example. Now life in general is better and I think my mania is changing as well.

I don't think either kind of mania is good because you are more likely to do stupid things when you are either really happy or really mad. Actually, excessive spending or excessive eating happens during either time. Or you might commit to things you really can't do, start a new businesses, or make huge life changes.

after manic organizing

I do have to admit that there are advantages to mania because this is usually when we are the most creative and the most brilliant. Medication takes that away for many of us and that is one of the reasons some of us stop medication. To me, mania represents the creative spark, and I don't really want to get rid of that. I would not mind if it was a bit less like a firecracker and more like a candle flame though.

Mania can be embarrassing, scary, extremely creative and productive, and no one wants to talk about it. However, until I did talk about it, I went misdiagnosed for seven years.

Mania is just part of who we are and part of what we have to manage.  I try to think of managing the manic phases as harnessing the power I have within me to make it productive and not destructive.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

Can't Sleep

It's 1:20am, recently that is still early in the evening for me.

I wrote a post a few days ago about not being able to do what "normal" people do, like stay up late and still function. If I do that for a day or two, I may not sleep for weeks. One slip, one change, can derail the management of my illness.

A few weeks ago I went to a conference for the weekend and we were up really late each night. Last week my husband and I were the main caregivers for my Mom since my Dad was out of town. Unfortunately this created many late nights and a lot of stress. These events have led to me being virtually unable to go to bed before 3 or 4am.


That is one of the things which is so frustrating about this illness, I can't make myself do what I need to. It would make sense for me to just go to bed. I do, but I can't fall asleep. I can lay in bed awake for hours. I surf the internet on my iPad because I am bored.

I am literally watching myself stay awake, telling myself to go to sleep, totally annoyed that I can't force myself to sleep. It is like watching a car with no breaks speed down the road. Actually, your brain kind of feels that way.

I don't have a reason why many people with bipolar can't force themselves to do the right thing to care for themselves. No doctor has ever had a solution for how to get around this besides trying to address symptoms.

Can't sleep? Take a sleeping pill. Eat too much? We have a pill for that. Can't finish a project because you get distracted? Take a stimulant. Won't exercise? We don't have a pill for that. BUT, the stimulant we gave you makes your heart race when you run, so don't run.

I just need to pick a 5K or something and sign up for it so I have some outside commitment which makes it more likely that I will exercise-which I can't do unless I get enough sleep, and if I run enough one of these days I might wear myself out enough to fall asleep before 3am.

Here's to hoping I can trick my brain into doing the right thing.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie

Too Afraid to Share

I asked my husband to read over a potential blog post today. After he read it, he said, "This is not your style." He pointed out that my writing style for this blog is very different than my other blog, Moving in With Dementia, and my preaching style. Interestingly, Jeff said the problem with the posts on this blog is that they are too preachy. No one ever wants a preacher who is too preachy!

My style is storytelling. When I write a sermon, I need a story first. No story, no sermon. It's just who I am. So, why is my style for this blog so different?

I am afraid to share my story.

I am not afraid to tell people about my bipolar disorder, and even share a bit about it, but I realized I am afraid to say too much. People with mental illness are judged so harshly that our jobs, family life, and friendships are at risk if people know too much about us. That is why most of us don't speak up.

However, the purpose of this blog was to let other people with mental illness and their families know they are not alone. Sharing our stories is what connects us, not sticking to just intellectual, heady talk about what is going on.

From my experience, having mental illness makes you feel like a freak. Heck, other people actually call us freaks. It is lonely, not only for me but for my husband and son. Sometimes it feels like we are the only people dealing with this because very few people actually talk about it.


So today, part of our story included being lucky that I even got out of bed this morning. Jeff actually got me to go for a walk, which was a big deal. (I was supposed to go running and just couldn't do it.) One of my great therapists said we were working towards having days when I don't wake up and automatically think "I hate my life." I have very few of those mornings, but I will keep working for them.

Blessings,

Rev. Katie