Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Bipolar disorder: Let's take this deadly disease seriously

15 to 17 percent of people who have bipolar disorder die by suicide. Sticking to a prescribed medication regime can help patients beat those odds.

Sometimes the memory of my hospitalization comes back to me in cinematic flash backs.

“Give me paper. I need paper,” I screamed at the triage nurse in the ER.

This was the second time I’d been to the ER in as many weeks. I apparently had my shit together too much during my first visit to the ER to be admitted. I was put on a waiting list to receive outpatient treatment.

But, by my second trip to the ER, my mania had tailspinned into psychosis. Bipolar disorder with psychotic features  is common in type 1 bipolar disorder.

I grabbed the paper and pen from the nurse’s hand and scribbled “Jesus loves Karl Rove.”  I underlined the phrase and then shoved the paper back at the nurse.

In my demented mind, I firmly believed that the campaign tactics used by Karl Rove in the 2004 presidential election were an elaborate scheme to shove me out of the religious community in which I had grown up. I had lost everything after those elections, or so it seemed. I became severely depressed and once my depression lifted these manic thoughts took over.

I don’t remember anything else about the triage room after that point. I woke up to my grandparents beside me in my hospital bed.

A doctor soon came in to tell me that I was coming down from a manic episode and that I had a textbook case of bipolar type 1.

That episode occurred 10 years ago. I’ve been on 900 to 1200 mg of lithium daily since. I’ve had great success with my treatment with little side effects, but not everyone is as fortunate.

The death of 28-year-old Natalie Fuller should remind us all how serious this disease really is. Natalie lost her battle with mental illness on March 14.

Natalie experienced her first psychotic break at 22 — the same age that I was when I experienced mine. 

Natalie’s mother wrote an account of Natalie’s battle with mental illness in the Washington Post. In the story she said Natalie would go through phases were she would quit taking her medicine. She said Natalie didn't think they worked for her.

When I first received my diagnosis, the psychiatrists at KU Med put me on a cocktail of lithium, Depakote and Risperdal. My hands trembled, I gained 20 pounds and I felt no emotions. I wanted to get off it all, but the doctors convinced me to tapper down to just the lithium and give it a try. They explained that every time you relapse the episodes get worse and the shorter the period between episodes the more intense subsiquent episodes will be.

Getting off medication is not an option, they said. You will end up back in the hospital; you might end up in jail; you could end up dead.

I've been on my medication for 10 years because the thought of the hospital, jail and death scare me.

15 to 17 percent of people who have bipolar disorder die by suicide.  Put inperspective, approximately  .0101 percentof the general population in the United States dies by suicideThe survival rate of stage 2 breast cancer  is higher than that of bipolar disorder.

This, my friends, is a serious, deadly illness. Let’s start treating it that way.



Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Live your best life now in three steps

No matter where you are on life's journey you can live your best life at any given moment. Learn how in three easy steps.
About fifteen months ago I slipped into a catatonic-like depression. Sure, I could move, but barely. I had recently given birth to my daughter and the Zoloft my doctor had prescribed hadn’t kicked in. I have bipolar disorder so we knew the chances of postpartum depression would be high.                 
With my baby less than two weeks old I found myself unable to get out bed. I was able to press through with the help of some sayings I learned in Al-Anon. These mantras helped me be my best self and I’m convinced that they can work for you too.
Do the next best thing. 
Life can be overwhelming, especially when you have a mental illness. It’s hard to project into the future, but you can always do the next best thing in the present. When I felt crippled by depression, early in my post-partum experience, at one point the next best thing for me was simply setting up and holding my baby. So, I sat up. I held my baby. My depression didn’t automatically go away, but that step led me closer to the light. That step enabled me to live my best life at the moment.
Stop Worrying. 

Worry takes us out of the here and now and holds us hostage in past regrets or future concerns. Don’t get trapped in worry. Acknowledge the concern, address the aspects that are in your control, and let go of the rest. I recently learned to let go of my need to control and “fix” problems that I never had control of to begin with. As a result I no longer experience the anxiety and panic attacks that used to plague my days.
Pause for poise. 

Whatever you are doing, pause. Take a deep breath. Think of something that makes you smile. Take time to focus on the things that make you smile. This exercise will help you relax, focus and remember why you want to be your best self in the first place.

I still have days that are difficult. Depression and anxiety will always be part of my life. But day by day, I’m doing my best. Some days aren’t as great as others, but I chose not to worry about that. There’s no time to worry about yesterday when you are living your best life now.



Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Three Steps to Press Through Anxiety




Doctors are often the worst patients. And when it comes to taking advice, us bloggers are also the worst. The. Very. Worst.

This afternoon I was writing a blog about living in the now. I know how to tell people to live in the now. I know why worry doesn’t help situations. I understand the concept of mindfullness, but good luck getting me to practice it when a strong bout of anxiety hits.

Today, while writing my piece on living in the now, worries flooded my mind. Worries about the past, previous blogs I had written, obligations I don’t have time to commit to, bills I don’t have money to pay. The list goes on and on and on.

The worst part about anxiety is that you can’t rationalize your way out of it. So, how do I overcome my anxiety? What tricks do I pull out of my sleeve? Truth is, I don’t have any magical advice, but here are few things that help me press through my anxiety.

Acknowledge the pain and fear

I’ve learned over the years that my fear and anxiety is not inherently bad or wrong. These feelings and emotions are real so I allow my self to acknowledge them. I allow myself to cry and say this sucks. I allow myself to voice the overwhelmingness. I allow to do this because it helps me move on.

Address what you have control over and let go of the rest

Everyone who suffers from anxiety should memorize the serenity prayer. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”

There are things in this life that are beyond our control. Letting go of these things is an important step in overcoming anxiety.

Allow yourself to be distracted

Anxiety works like a cancer of the mind — infiltrating our thoughts and then spreading. I’ve found the best way to halt these deceptive thoughts is to distract myself from them. Going for a drive, taking a walk with a friend, watching Netflix, or even Tweeting, are all helpful distractions. Find what works for you and use it.

This is not a 1, 2, 3 cure for anxiety. I don’t have anything that magical to share. But this is what works for me in real life. Hope it can work for you too.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Managing my plate full of stress



I’ve had a lot on my plate lately. Like, I have more on my plate right now than an over-eater at Golden Coral.

I decided, just for the heck of it, to rate my stressful life events on the Stressful Life Events ListSocial Adjustment Rating Scale. Anything more than 300 means you are under high stress. I scored 334, which is a pretty conservative rating of my stress. In that past 15 months I have given birth, filed for divorce, moved, switched careers, moved to another state, and had a 75 percent reduction in my household income.

So that stuff happened. I understand that life happens. But when you have bipolar disorder life happens so fucking hard. Seriously. I often have to remind myself that this illness is real, and valid, and hard. So hard.

When I was hospitalized in 2005 I made friends with another woman who had bipolar type 1. I had just graduated from college. She had just bought her first home. Big events trigger episodes, both mania and depression.

I remember thinking when I left the hospital that I never wanted to have another big life event again. I couldn’t imagine myself with a husband and child and mortgage. I just wanted to play it safe.

But there’s nothing safe about life. It’s full of risks. Clearly I’ve taken my fair share. Some of the risks had a great return. Others taught me lessons that I take with me to this day.

I used to think that taking risks would land me back in the psych ward. You can’t go through stressful life events without becoming symptomatic. Over the past 12 months I’ve experienced two significant bouts of hypomania. One was uncomfortably close to mania. In both instances depression symptoms shortly followed after I scaled back on my antidepressant.

These ups and downs are part of being bipolar. It’s easy shrug them off as just “these ups and downs.” But truthfully, I felt so overwhelmed and worthless tonight that I had to phone a friend to remind myself that me living is a good thing.

It’s hard to understand how someone who has so much going for her can feel so worthless. It’s hard for me to understand, even as I experience it. How can I go from a flood of creative thoughts, from seeing everything as beautiful to feeling like my very existence is nothing more than burden on the unfortunate souls who happen to be my family? How do I go from feeling so wonderful to feeling so absolutely despicable? How do I go from loving myself to loathing myself faster that Kim Kardashian can change her hair back to brunette?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. I probably never will. What I do know, is that I’m not in the hospital. My friend reminded that things suck, but I don’t. And my feelings, valid as they are, will pass. I ended the conversation and was able to read my daughter her bedtime stories, tuck her in, say her prayers, and see the beauty in her smile.

I’m not in the hospital. I have managed to get through some of my most trying times without any full-blown episodes. I’ve been symptomatic, for sure, but I haven’t had any full-blown episodes. That’s not just something. That’s everything.

Bit by bit, my plate’s gonna clear. These stresses will pass. And quite frankly as long as they are on a plate and not a hospital tray I’m going to call it a success.