My Top 10 Goals For 2015

10. Eat a Balanced Diet

       Replace my meals of cookies, cake, ice cream, and chocolate.

9.   Get Enough Rest

       Try to go to bed before 3 o'clock in the morning each night.

8.   Become More Productive

      Take less naps during the day.

7.   Start an Exercise Regimen

      Work on my self control.

6.   Do Drugs Daily

      Follow my psychiatrist’s medication recommendations.

5.   Be Flexible

      Learn how to do the splits.

4.   Gain Independence

      Wean myself from my psychologist.

3.   Be Kind to Others

      Create a filter between my mind and my mouth.

2.   Learn How to Relax

      Decrease my anxiety levels by lowering my caffeine intake.

1.   Find Myself 

      Figure out who I am.

Say Hello to My Filthy Mouth

Jane:  It has been said that people who swear are not intelligent. Those who use colorful language have a limited vocabulary. I did a Google search to find the old adage so I could use the quote for this blog. Instead, when I began to type the words, Google auto populated the search suggestion “People who swear are more honest.” The examples that followed were articles from psychological studies.   

Nate:  As a child it was taboo to swear at home. My parents swore on occasion, but it was always justified or so we were told. My family believed in the theory of, “do as I say and not as I do”. I lived in a diverse community and the boundaries for swearing really depended on where you were at and with whom you were speaking. People who swore in public were looked down upon.

Jane:  I swear constantly. I frequently drop the F-bomb. The use of words that I consider to be “sentence enhancers” is a staple in our home. I am not above using cuss words in public. When family or friends are with me, some are mortified while others cannot hold back their laughter.

Nate:  Isn’t laughter often considered a sign of discomfort in awkward situations? Our children sometimes use some pretty colorful phrases that make others uncomfortable. If I hear it, I usually scold them and ask them to revisit their expression with less cussing to be more politically correct.

Jane:  In contrast to the way my husband reacts to our children using inappropriate words, I can’t help but laugh when they say them. Unfortunately, they follow in my footsteps. They even have come up with more creative, ingenious uses for using bad words. Secretly, I am proud when they come up with cleaver ways to mix in swear words in everyday conversation. I cannot stay “Do as I say, not what I do.” That would be hypocritical.

Nate:  Much of the time, the bulk of Jane’s swearing is directed at me. We have a ritual.

Jane:  I regularly tell Nate, “Fuck you.”

Nate:  I usually respond by saying, “Yes please.”

Jane:  I have been working with my psychologist about my issue with impulse control. He suggests that I should take a moment to think before I speak in order to decide if what I want to say is necessary. This exercise does not come easy for me. I constantly call my husband an asshole when we are having an argument. It has been discussed that instead of using that phrase, I should replace it by saying “I am angry at you” or “You hurt my feelings”.

Nate:  She is getting better at using her words. I know when she says, “I am angry at you” or “You hurt my feelings”, she is still calling me an asshole. Same meaning, different words.

Jane:  Sometimes my outbursts can get me in trouble; especially in public. This summer while in Walmart a woman was acting over dramatic because our aisle was blocked with too many shoppers. I said, “Some people need to pipe the fuck down and be patient.” I purposely said it loud enough for her to hear.

Nate:  When this sort of thing happens in public it can be amusing, but I am usually hoping they did not hear what my wife said or that the recipient does not realize she was talking about them and retaliate. 

Jane:  Just before Christmas my husband and I were taking a walk at the marina close to our home to look at the lights. My son and his girlfriend accompanied us. As we strolled around enjoying our evening, my son’s girlfriend informed me that as a man rushed past us he said, “I don’t know what the big deal is. They’re just lights!” That made me angry. I told my son’s girlfriend that if he wasn't so far away and other people's children were not nearby I would have yelled, “Fuck off. I’m blind!”

Nate:  We are lucky that she did not have the chance to voice her feelings. I was worried that the guy would come back and attack my wife. My son and I would have had to intervene and shield her from him.

Jane: He could have just apologized, said that I suffer from a mental illness, and led me away. He would not have been lying.

Nate:  This would not have been the first time I have had to step in and diffuse a situation. I am pretty good at stopping things from escalating before it gets ugly.

Jane:  Just the other day we were at the grocery store. As a woman passed us with her cart she looked me straight in the eye and gave me a dirty look. I looked up at my husband and asked him if he saw her give me a look.

Nate:  I smiled at my wife and affirmed that the lady had scowled at her. I put my arm around her and said, “It’s OK. Just walk away and ignore it.” I lead her to another aisle while she looked around searching for the woman. She told me that she wanted to find her and call her a bitch.

Jane:  I kept repeating a mantra in my head. “Take a deep breath, the doctor told me to watch what I say. Take a deep breath, the doctor told me to watch what I say. Take a deep breath, the doctor told me to watch what I say…”

Nate:  Learning how to watch what she says and filter out the profanity is still difficult for my wife. She is improving. I would feel sorry for whoever catches her during her lapse of judgment, but the recipient will probably be me.

Jane:  At the latest visit to my psychologist’s office he told me that he and my psychiatrist discussed my case. It was suggested that my swearing is not a part of having bipolar disorder; it is possible that it is just a part of my personality.

Nate:  When I heard this news from her I was not sure if I should be happy or concerned. It’s common for mood disorders to coexist with personality disorders. I always thought she might have a personality disorder.

Jane:  It is said that the first things that comes out of your mouth is usually your most honest feelings. In my case, honesty might not be the best policy. At least not until I get my smart mouth under control...

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A Vacation From Therapy

My psychologist is going to be away from his office for some time. Until he returns from his time off it will be two months before I see him again. This fact makes me nervous.

I found out that I had bipolar disorder a year and a half ago. I did not decide to start therapy until much later. I have been going to my psychologist for four months. When I started my sessions, I felt like I did not need therapy. 

I wish that I would have started therapy earlier. Even though I was resistant to therapy for over a year, the time that I have been going has made a major change in my life. Instead of keeping the feelings about my struggle with bipolar disorder to myself, I was finally able to articulate my feelings to someone who was trained in dealing with mental health issues. 

Over the past few weeks, I have been wondering if my sessions are more successful because of the time in my life that I decided to start. Was it a good decision to begin therapy after becoming stable on medication? Would I have been in a better place earlier if therapy was introduced toward the beginning of the process? I do not know the answer to that question. I just trust that everything happens for a reason and that things happen at the right time.

Therapy has given me the tools to better accept my diagnosis of bipolar disorder and I have realized that I have a large role in my recovery. Most of what I do depends on my view of the world. I learned that bipolar disorder does not control me. I control bipolar disorder by my decisions and actions. 

I put a major amount of effort into changing the way I think about the situations around me. I am not used to holding back what I am feeling; extreme anger, happiness, and sadness. I have been fast to react to all situations most of my life. Toning down my reactions is a battle. I have to take the time to stop and calm myself to behave like the "normal people" of the world instead of blowing up in anger, getting overenthusiastic about mundane things, or crying over things that I cannot control.

The other day I told my psychologist that he has had a negative impact on my blog. Before I started therapy, I used to blog two to three times a week. I feel that blogging is a good place for me to let my thoughts and feelings out. When I started therapy, I began sharing many things during my sessions instead of on my blog. It is nice to have a discussion instead of the one-sided conversation of a blog.

At this moment, I am nervous that I will not have the opportunity to speak to my psychologist for an extended amount of time. It will be a relief to me when he returns. After my hiatus from therapy I have no doubt that I will have an abundance of things to discuss with him when he returns. 

Leaving My World Behind

To say that I have an interesting life would be an understatement. Within each minute of every single day there is never a dull moment. My thoughts drive me to a far off magical land that the majority of the world's population would never fathom visiting; for they do not know of its existence.

I have special powers bestowed upon me. I possess the ability to experience every emotion with fervent intensity. With my mood swings come passion and compassion. Whether in mania or a depression, my feelings are extreme. I love the exhilaration of mania. I welcome the deep desperation of depression. 

I live in a land of wonder. In my mind, riding the roller coaster that I call life is invigorating. There is a new adventure with every twist and turn.

A year and a half ago, my life as I knew it was turned upside down. I felt like a cruel avionic creature from up above suddenly swooped over my head and dropped an enormous boulder on top of me. This catastrophic event has had a colossal effect to my psyche. I was notified that the life that I had come to know and love was abnormal. It was revealed to me that my erratic shifts in mood were symptoms of a mental illness. The name of the condition is bipolar disorder. 

Accepting my diagnosis was relatively easy. I scoured the internet in search for answers. I learned how my brain works and how it affects my behavior. It then became simple to make the connections that helped explain the numerous mysteries of my life. I do not have a problem with knowing that I have bipolar disorder. The problem lies in the realization that treatment is a component necessary to incorporate into my life. 

I am traveling on the road to normalcy with the help of medication and therapy. I despise this journey. What if I do not want to live a normal life? Is society's measure of what is considered to be normal of utmost importance?  This constant argument plays within the deepest recesses of my mind. Although resolving this question is supposed to be of my own choosing, I feel powerless in making a decision that I deem suitable for my inner self because society expects me to live within the realm of their own reality. The goddess within me loudly proclaims that losing my sense of reality in order to blend in with that of the world will erase the traits that make me unique, exceptional, and remarkable.

My emotions are muddied by medication. Each evening I look at my medication as if they are poison then swallow each bitter little pill. They are the tools for my undoing; they strip away my majestic mind of its greatness. It chases away the captivating daydreams that entertain me. The voices in my mind that keep me company are quieted. My imagination is suffocated. I fantasize about the idea of discontinuing the use of these psychiatric drugs in order to gain some semblance of what I once was. 

In order to make some sense of my new found mentality, therapy has taken a dominant presence in my life. When asked about the reason as to why I decided to receive therapy and the goals in which I wanted to accomplish, I replied that I needed assistance with adjusting to "normal". I thought that this portion of my ride would be easy. How hard could it be? I would be given they keys to unlock gates leading to the road of normalcy and then told the directions to where I need to go. I would simply follow the route; my psychologist being my navigation system. In my travels I have acquired numerous bumps and bruises. Unbeknownst to me, I can not expect to work towards becoming normal when I do not know its definition. 

As of now, I am still on the road to recovery. Sometimes I feel as if my vehicle is broken down in middle of what seems to be an never ending road. There are detours to overcome and roadblocks to conquer. Eventually I will reach my destination and have the ability to look into my rear view mirror without the regret of knowing that I had to drive into a tunnel of darkness in order to reach the light at the other side. 

It's Not Me, It's You!

People are afraid of mental illness. I believe that the stigma regarding mental disorders is due to ignorance. Individuals with a disorder will hide the presence of their illness as if it is a dirty little secret. People with a mental illness feel shame and disgrace because they fear that they will be treated badly if others knew about their condition. 

If you are the person who has a mental illness, realize that you are not the problem. The other people who close their minds and choose not to listen are the ones who have the problem. It is not about you, it is about them. 

When it comes to disclosing that I have bipolar disorder I do not have reservations. I am forthcoming about my condition because I believe that until others are acquainted with the disorder the stigma will remain. Sadly, I am not as vigilant as I would like to be. It is easy to communicate my thoughts to others online. In a public setting, there is not much of an opportunity to bring up my illness in everyday conversation. Until I have the courage to post bipolar vlogs, get invited to verbalize my thoughts in a public forum, or travel the world to bring attention to my book that I may one day write, I will have to remain content with writing my little blog for the few people who somehow come across it by chance.

Yes, I get looks of horror from strangers when I say that I have a mental illness. Yes, I get looks of shock when I tell acquaintances and friends that I have bipolar disorder. Yes, I get looks of extreme denial when I talk to some members of my family. Most people are dumbfounded.

I find that the worse responses come from the people who feel as if they know me best. It is sad to know that the individuals who I believe should be the most supportive take the news in a negative fashion. They are judgmental and are not afraid to tell me that I do not have a problem. They feel that my condition is all in my mind and I have to change the way I think. I wish that it were that easy.

Be aware that when you inform others that you have a mental condition some of your family and friends may abandon you. You will get unwanted advice from many people about how to manage your disorder. Try not to listen to the negative things they will undoubtedly say. They will fill your head with insensitive, misguided advice. 

For your sanity, let these people go and take what they say with a grain of salt. Take all the little grains that they have rubbed into your wounds and throw them over your shoulder and don't look back. It is a waste of time and energy trying to defend yourself against their ignorance. Don't waste your breath on them. Concentrate on what matters more; the people who love you unconditionally and take the time to be there for you. This is easier said than done. Believe me, I know.

Most people that you encounter may believe that a mental illness is entirely different than a physical one. The stigma about mental illness is due, in part, to the fact that the symptoms of a mental illness cannot be seen in the same manner as a physical condition. Most people refuse to recognize that a mental illness IS a physical illness; it is disorder of the brain.

Don't be afraid to disclose that you have a mental illness. Educate yourself about your condition so that you can teach others about it. If you have a disorder or have a loved one that has one, don't hide it from the world. Whenever I have talked about my illness, I have been pleasantly surprised when others tell me about their personal experience with mental illness or that of a loved one. Even though it feels like you are alone, you are not. If you speak up, you will be surprised that there are others that are just like you...

Treatment. Do the Benefits Outweigh the Risks?

There several things I could talk about in this blog post, but I feel that the most important thing for me to talk about right now is about trying to find balance. During her treatment, my wife has been confused about what is normal for someone living with bipolar disorder. 

Unfortunately this disorder can bring out some very self-destructive behaviors. The illness can change their perception and cloud their judgment. This can lead to impulsive decisions that they would not normally make. They still have their ability to choose between right and wrong, but it can become extremely difficult to make the best decisions.

We have only known that my wife has bipolar disorder for a year and half. In the 18 years of our marriage my wife was able to keep much of her pain hidden. Before she received her diagnosis I never really knew how hard it was for her until she recently began to open up and confide in me about her private struggles. I was aware of some of her struggles, but many others were shocking for me to hear.

We are in an early maintenance phase of her treatment. We know she has type I bipolar disorder. We know how it affects her. She is actively seeking treatment. She is developing a support network. She even has a safety plan in place for times when she is feeling suicidal. Her treatment involves some of the best medication and therapy that money can buy. All of these things are positive steps in the right direction. Unfortunately at this time there is no treatment that cures bipolar disorder. It never goes away. It is a progressive illness. In the future, her treatment will need to be adjusted.

Jane and I regularly talk about how her treatment is going. We ponder if the benefits of treatment outweigh some of the risks. Some of her medications can have harmful and long lasting side effects such as weight gain, diabetes, and heart disease. The health risks are significant. On the other hand being non-compliant to treatment has significant risks like self injury, hospitalization, incarceration, and suicide. 

While we are discussing the complexities of her disorder my wife often asks me if she was "that bad" before she received her diagnosis and if I think treatment is really necessary. She wishes that her life could go back to how it was. She has lived most of her life without knowing that she has bipolar disorder. She wants to go back to what she considers to be normal. She resents that she has to take medication because the outside world considers her behavior to be abnormal. When I tell her that she was really "that bad" it makes me sad to see the look of disappointment on her face. She easily remembers all the positive aspects of her disorder and does not recognize the impact of how the negative parts have affected her life. She doesn't realize how much her behavior impacted the people around her. 

I wish I could take away all her frustration and anger, but I can't. She will always have bipolar disorder and I can't make her better. I can't heal her no matter how much I want to help. 

There are only two options; choosing to follow treatment recommendations to help her take control of her life or choosing to ignore treatment and let her disorder take control her life.