New things

So initially this blog started as a means to share my trials and tribulations in the dating world.....it has since been on hiatus as I refocus my perspective and honestly my refocused perspective is likely to be somewhat random musings from my generally unfocused train of thoughts such as:

I've never been an athlete...or particularly athletic.  I ran for a long time...not very quickly but more for distance as well as biking for transportation.  I've recently taken up CrossFit and while the name itself can immediately cause some to roll their eyes at the "cult" that CrossFit has become I really don't care because I LOVE it...and my non-athleticism is the very reason why.

My primary goal for exercising has always been twofold:

1.  I have learned that intense physical activity helps to regulate the chemicals that my body is not regulating on its own...basically it has taken the place of the medication that I was on to control my bipolar symptoms.  It's definitely not a "cure" but one of several things that I've discovered which will help to keep me off of lifelong medication.
2.  I am inordinately fond of Spam musubis, cheesecake, wine, and Belgian beers and I don't want to become overweight.  No, I have not joined the affiliated cult of Paleo, clean-eaters.

And that's pretty much it.  I think probably 92% of people out there exercising are doing it for reason #2 (minus the Spam and booze)....and that might be a low estimate.  What I have found in CrossFit is that for the first time in my nearly 50 years I could care less what size I am or could possibly become or if I can fit into that old pair of jeans that I've been carting around even though I haven't fit them in 22 years or even about the persistent stomach pooch that I once even attempted to have frozen away.  What I am focused on is becoming stronger and fitter.  I look at the people in my class and I don't see whether or not their stomach sticks out or if their thighs jiggle but I do see how STRONG they are and the work that they put in to get there.  I no longer feel like I'm exercising as much as working towards this long term goal of building myself up both physically and mentally.

I could list all the known benefits of weightlifting but I'm finding that the benefits which I'm experiencing have little to do with those.  Bipolar disorder steals a lot away from you.  One of the hardest losses for me to deal with is the loss of control.  It can be extremely demoralizing, frustrating, and exhausting when you need to battle your own psyche on a regular basis.  CrossFit has given me both a physical and a psychological kick in the pants.  I can now fight the battles in my head on an actual field with many similarities....some days you conquer the weight and some days not so much...some days will hurt but if you can grit your teeth and push through you'll make it out...some days you might feel weak or tired but if you at least show up you can chalk one up under personal victory.....and in this entire process you'll be getting stronger in many ways.

I guess maybe that's the difference between being an exerciser and being an athlete....even if the only person that you're competing with is you.

The Bell Jar

I wrote this a while ago but haven't had the courage to share it until now. I finally decided to do so because there will always be power in dialog over silence.

What goes up must eventually come down and for most people with bipolar disorder the down generally lasts much longer than the up. Everyone feels down at times.....maybe due to a string of bad incidents...maybe one overwhelming misfortune...maybe just the challenges of day to day life.  But what if you wake up one day and nothing really makes any sense?  In many ways today is just like yesterday, so why all of a sudden has today become so different?  My experience with the depressive swing was along those lines.  Not the blues but the mean reds (see Breakfast at Tiffany's).  Not sad because I failed at something...or my boyfriend left me...or I can't seem to get things together.  Sad because of me.  If you're sad because of an outside cause you can work to alleviate that factor but if you're sad because of who you are.....well...that's a tough one. 

I grew up Buddhist so I never really had any concept of heaven or hell.  I also never really had any fear of death because there was always my next life to have the adventures that I never got around to in this one...and in many ways, my next life was almost appealing if it meant that I wouldn't have to experience the pain and distress that I felt in this one.  During my darkest days I would open my eyes in the morning and calmly and rationally debate whether I should get out of bed, have breakfast, and plan my day or whether I should end my life today.  Most mornings I opted for the breakfast.

One day my mom asked me if I had ever thought about suicide.  That was a HUGE question because we never really discussed my condition at all.  She was the one who took me to the doctor after my breakdown...and she was the one who kept trying to find help and answers but at the same time my condition was that looming elephant in the room.  We tried to tip toe around it as much as possible....probably because we just didn't know what to say and maybe we were hoping that if we pretended that it wasn't there then it would just eventually shrivel up and go away.  That question acknowledged not only my fragile state of mind but also the growing elephant.  I considered lying....it would take some of the worry and pain off of her and even if I admitted it, I couldn't see how it would help things in any way and it would just bring her more worry and concern.  But I said "yes".  I think it was a relief to finally let that out (for me, not for her I'm sure) and it also would be a major turning point in my condition.  I remember that she seemed a little stunned.....and then after a moment of silence she calmly said:

"I really don't understand what you're going through and I don't know what to say or even if anything that I say will help...but I want you to know that it's not just you.  If you hurt yourself it won't just be you.  I will always wonder if I could have done something....that I SHOULD have done something.......so please, before you do anything...please, please just try really hard to remember that.  I will do anything that I need to do to help you...just please don't give up."

Every time that I ended up going down that road again (and it happened often) I did remember her words.  If someone cared that much...even after I had caused her so much pain...the least that I could do was to try and hang on.  And I did.  I held on to her words like my own little life preserver of lucidity in my growing chaos...repeating them over and over in my head like a mantra.  I am positive that her words are why I am still here today.

If you are in a similar situation, please find that one thing that you can hang on to....whether it be a passage from a book, lyrics from a song, words that someone passed on to you.....maybe a memory of how things were before the despair crept in.  Just find it, focus on it, and HOLD ON. This too WILL pass.  And if you think that you can't make a difference in someone's life (or death)...you're so wrong.  Say the things that you want to say...even if it seems awkward...even if you think that it won't make a difference...because you never know when it really will.  And maybe your words will also be able to sustain someone for a lifetime.

Evolution

I recently watched a segment of a talk given by Temple Grandin on autism.  That got me thinking.  Is it possible that what we view as disorders of the psyche might actually just be a form of evolution?  Many psychological disorders seem to be based on the person with the disorder having a different perception of the world....either processing or viewing information differently from the norm.  What is the norm?

When I was a child I would constantly receive poor grades in the categories of participation and social skills.  I was incredibly shy (and still am but do much better with a glass of wine which wasn't encouraged in grade school).  But really...what is the norm of a person's personality? Perhaps instead of dinging me on my lack of social skills, I could have been allowed to be my shy little self as long as I was doing my lessons and not eating glue or setting small fires....instead I grew up feeling inadequate because I wasn't able to socialize as adeptly (or at all) as other kids.

Much later, after a breakdown in college, I was officially diagnosed with bipolar disorder.  I do believe that the little girl who had trouble socializing was already showing symptoms of the disorder and hence the personality issues.  When you label someone as having a disorder you create an US and THEM scenario.  I was now in the THEM....out of the norm and struggling to gain membership back in.  But what if all the THEM's are really just a different evolution of the US's?  Not really in need of repair but perhaps of a new means of interaction.

Yes, I do understand the basics of involuntary chemical imbalances and yes, there are many symptoms of bipolar disorder that can lead to drastic consequences if not managed.  I am pretty sure that I wouldn't be here right now if I had not spent time on medication....but then again, it's impossible to say at this point in time.  I eventually chose to discontinue my medication because I felt that it was interfering with my personality....I had forgotten what it was like to be me.  What if my disorder is part of human evolution and not an anomaly that needs to be corrected?

And in the end, whatever our basic differences may be, acceptance is highly underrated.  There is something incredibly healing and nurturing when anyone is not simply tolerated but actually accepted and even appreciated as is.  I don't have any conclusion to all of this except that perhaps if we spend a little more time on trying to understand people within their own parameters, instead of trying to force them into ours, we may all learn something important.

On a very personal note....

One of the biggest and most profound decisions that I was faced with (given my condition) was whether or not I could...........should....have children.  Please don't get me wrong......I am in no way saying that anyone who is bipolar is not capable of nurturing a family.....in MY particular case, I would likely have faced parenthood as a single parent as I had never been fortunate enough to be in a stable relationship.  This brings up an entirely different dynamic.......what would happen if I was unable to function properly?  I was known to drift off and disappear for days....but what if there was someone relying on me to be there for them?  What if I was gone?  For days or perhaps permanently?  Who could care for this little life in my absence?  And in the end, is it fair to knowingly bring a human being into this extremely unpredictable and occasionally volatile situation?  There were so many more questions and no real answers which led me to my ultimate decision that this would just not be a wise thing for me to do...........ever.

I know people all talk about womens' "biological clock".  As a child, I never once had any notion of my perfect wedding......nor any knowledge of any clock ticking within me.  For me, I think the clock was more of a realization that there is so much to life......so many emotions to experience.....so many dreams to share......ideas to discuss......laughter to engage in.  There was no clock telling me that I needed to do something in a certain time frame but there was always a deep rooted feeling that the most profound experience in life had to be in the absolute sharing of such.  I could see and experience the most wonderful, breathtaking things to ever grace this earth but they would somehow lose their beauty if I couldn't share it with another human being.

Sometimes it's difficult to find meaning in your existence when it only deals with yourself.  Yes, there are friends, family.....even perfect strangers who can touch your life in any given moment.  It never felt quite complete though.  In this age of social media, I derive HUGE amounts of pleasure seeing photographs of my friends with their families.  It's my own form of vicarious parenthood.  And then one day, very recently, it suddenly dawned on me.  I may not have raised my own child but there are so many people out there to truly love.....beyond birth rights.....beyond genetics.......beyond race, age, time......sharing love....giving of what is the essential part of YOU goes beyond all that and every one of us is able to participate.  I am fully aware that parenthood is something completely separate from all else and yes, I will probably always have a melancholy vacancy in my heart and soul from never knowing this first hand; however, I think the day when you can come to terms with this knowledge and realize that you still have much to give and learn.....share and experience......and most of all to love, without expectations but simply and purely.......then the battle really is won.

love. that's all.

Choices

How do you make decisions?  Really.  I'm a little confused because for most of my life I let my "crazy" call the shots.  Not the best way to make major life decisions but at least it didn't involve a lot of second guessing, soul searching, or sleepless nights.  I didn't give much thought to the future because honestly......I kinda didn't think that I would be around to see it.  But now...many years later, a tiny bit wiser (or not), and attempting to conduct a reasonably rational and mature existence.....I'm kinda stumped.  What should I do with myself?  And where should I do it? Since my "crazy" is just in remission and not completely out of the picture, I still hold a certain amount of belief in signs (yeah, go ahead and roll your eyes) but I can't just wait around for a sign which I might hopefully notice and interpret correctly.  Sometimes it just seems like everyone else in the world knows exactly what to do and when to do it and I seem to have missed that day in class.

One of the hallmarks of bipolar disorder is the lack of planning.  I'm sure most of my friends just chalk it up to me being the biggest flake in the world, but I've since learned that many people with the disorder have trouble making future plans.  For me it was mainly because I couldn't determine just how I might be feeling say two weeks from now.  I might be all excited to do a certain thing today.......then a few weeks roll by and suddenly I'm sitting in the pit of darkness and can't even pretend that I'm remotely excited because I'm way too busy trying to just get up and face the day.  Or I might make plans while manic and totally forget about it once I was coming down.  Or maybe it was just that the future in general was the equivalent of Oz.....this mystical wonderland that I'd heard of in stories but probably not a place that I would have the chance to visit.  It's very difficult to make any plans when each day can be a complete mystery.  In any case, I am not faced with that particular issue any longer (to a certain extent) however old habits die a little hard.

Maybe I'll just never be a good planner?  Although.......I have been proactive in a few aspects in my life.  I've been taking my car in for routine servicing.  I went to the doctor for routine blood work and a check-up without being sick.  I even made an appointment to see a dentist for the first time in 25+ years (yeah, that's a whole 'nother story). In many ways, I feel like I've been reborn in this 47 year-old body.  I'm relearning things....even learning things for the very first time....and even things that I once thought that I knew will feel different at this point in my life.  It's exciting.....and a little unnerving.  It's like I've become the oldest looking twenty-something in history......I am "Big"...in reverse.

crazy

I like to refer to my disorder as my "crazy".  I do realize that's not a particularly politically correct term but it works for me.  I treat it as another entity......sort of like my imaginary frenemy.  For much of my life, my crazy and I were in constant battle for domination but in recent years, we've reached a peaceful truce for control.  Maybe we're both just getting old and tired of fighting.
I bring this up because, like you, I'm often rather frightened by the "crazy" lady walking down the street, pushing her doll in a baby carriage, while cussing and occasionally screaming to herself or the world.  But really.....the difference between that lady and myself is minimal at best.  We both (one would assume) have some type of biological imbalance and were it not for the love and support of my family, most especially my mom, I could have easily gone in her direction.  Just because we each have our "crazy" doesn't mean that she (or others like her) won't scare me but I probably do view her in a slightly more empathetic way than others might.
We are all just one biological malfunction away from illness.....whether it be psychiatric or physiological.  No one chooses to have their "crazy".  For a long time, I was under the misconception that I should somehow be able to shake myself out of it......that it was a sort of mental weakness on my part.  It's difficult enough to navigate through the myriad of twists and turns associated with bipolar disorder and to do so weighed down by guilt and embarrassment can be completely self-defeating.  To this day I still lie when I fill out those personal history forms at the doctor's office.  No.  No history of psychiatric treatment.  Nope.  In my defense, I'm not on any medication any longer so there is no danger of conflicting pharmaceuticals and on the rare occasion when I might need to take medication, I do always note the possible side effects.  Maybe one day I won't feel the need to lie and hide.  I have finally stopped doing it in my personal life so there is always hope.
There is a John Prine song about aging called "Hello In There".  It makes me think about anyone who is somehow trapped.....either inside a body or inside a mind.
"So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, 'Hello in there, hello'"