Coping with Bipolar Disorder

It’s been six months since I was last warded at the Institute of Mental Health which means I have been free of mania and depression for half a year. It feels good to be normal again, though normalcy cannot be taken for granted. Every day that I passed by without a symptom of bipolar disorder is embraced thankfully with gratitude to the Al-Mighty, Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

I have been challenged with Bipolar Disorder for 14 years and it has been a journey of highs and lows just like a rollercoaster ride. The episodes have been so dramatic that I feel that my life history has been defined by them rather than the periods of wellness. The past year was the most difficult year whereby I was admitted for most of the 10 months period. Each time I was discharged as I was back in for being high again. It was most frustrating for me and my loved ones to have me behind locked doors and at times tied up in bed for being loud and aggressive.

Keeping Routines

Routines, some people frown at the word like it is poison and take pride in having a very exciting, unpredictable life. For people with bipolar disorder, maybe shunning the poor fella is not the way to go. After reading several articles, it seems that "bipolar disorder is influenced by the body's circadian system", that is our internal clock or specifically for this post, our sleep-wake clock. So reducing the irregularities in our internal clock can potentially reduce triggering the symptoms of bipolar disorder and maintaining a regular sleep routine can help decrease the risk of having new episodes. Simple. And it works. Well, for me.

How moody are you today?

Today I rated my mood as a 5 on a scale of 0 = catatonically depressed to 10 = totally manic and out of this world. I have been a 5 for most of the past month which means my mood has been stable. I am neither too high nor too low. I began charting last month when my mood was a 6 for three days in a row and I was feeling happy. It is a nice place to be, feeling a little euphoric but not too much. I knew though it could develop to 7 (euphoric) and 8 (ecstatic) and so on if I am not careful so I decided to do a mood chart.

Staying Sane and Happy

It has been four months or more since I was last hospitalized and boy do I treasure my freedom. Being behind bars for many months is no joke but is the past that I want to put behind. My concern now is how to remain healthy and mania-free. I am not so scared of depression as I am of mania. I have rode the highs and lows of manic depression for 14 years with most of the episodes being one of mania – that uncontrollable high which sees me mutating to a different personality altogether.

My IMH Hotel

We just had tea – aromatic milk tea with three pieces of biscuits – two cream crackers and the coveted lemon puff, just one this time.  We are now perched on our individual chairs reading the day’s newspapers, talking to bosom friends, communing with the nurses, watching television and some would be talking to themselves or their unseen friends. We are in a hospital but not just any hospital, we are in the much feared or maligned one – the Institute of Mental Health (IMH).

There is very little to fear about being in this beautiful, bright and breezy hospital, yes it is breezy even though the large windows are large louvers with three types of defence  strategies – square aluminium grilles, wire nettings and the glass louvers themselves are strengthened with wire metal, criss-crossed on the glass. Our ward which is an acute C class ward is painted a cheerful orange, yellow, pink and purple combination to soothe jangled nerves and warm hearts.

Medication and my recent mixed episode

Mixed episode happens to me when I feel both high and low. But the high happens to be an agitated and angry one. Which is why it is called a mixed episode since I feel both negativity and manic high.

It was just last night I had a mixed episode incident which was triggered by lowering a very crucial medication in my cocktail. I felt the need to scream and shout and cry at the same time. At every corner, I felt I was being attacked by flaming arrows by evil ones.

So why can't people accept mental illness for what it is?

It's World Mental Health Day today. So I thought I'll post something.

I remember stumbling upon an article about Why don’t people accept that mental illness is just as real and devastating as physical illness? and it got me thinking, why?  I once tried to open up to a friend of mine whom I thought would understand and accept me for what I am. I spilled all the dirty things that I’ve kept hidden for so long and admitted to the succumbing to my darkest thoughts at my frailest moments and it was a big mistake. She didn’t understand. Apparently, I was too caught up in my own dark world that I’ve became “who I thought I was”. I needed to start thinking positively and chuck the meds as soon as I felt better. Needless to say, I clammed up straight away and disappeared from the radar.

So why is it so hard for people to understand that we can’t exactly control our actions or how we’re feeling?