Withdrawal – Part 5: Med-Free Bipolar

At long last, we come to the final post in this series. As I promised in the previous post, I will be explaining about the supplements that have been critical to my recovery and stability in the aftermath of coming off all my medications and living med-free long term. So lets begin.

If you’ve followed the previous posts in this series, then you already know why I decided to ween off my medications, as well as the pretty major pitfalls I encountered doing so (if you haven’t read them, please do check them out! You can find Part 1 here.) If you had asked me 5 years ago whether it was possible for someone with Type 1 Bipolar Disorder to live a happy, stable life without any pharmaceutical medications, I’d have told you a very emphatic “No way!” I’d have said you’d be crazy to even try it—after all, the life threatening dangers of psychotic mania and suicidal depression are all too real. And yet, as I write this post, I have passed the 1 year mark of living a completely medication free existence. How is this possible?

For the record, I’m in no way affiliated with the company I’m about to point you toward. I’m not getting any perks for promoting them. Their products have just worked so incredibly well for me that I can’t not point them out to other people to try.

header-logo

The company is called Truehope. As a side note, I have to share a funny detail with you all. A few years back, before I started this blog, and before I had even the slightest notion I would ever be coming off my meds, I had the idea come to me in prayer that I ought to write a book about journeying through the spiritual life with mental illness, and entitle it Finding Hope. The title came to me so clearly and emphatically that I wrote it down at the front of my journal and kept it there. While I haven’t dismissed the idea of writing a book, I later decided to start this blog first as a more immediately doable option. I just have to say I find it ironic that years in advance I was prompted to “find hope,” only to discover the eventual solution to my mental illness problems in a company called Truehope.

So what is this company? Well, here is their mission statement in their own words:

mission_orig

And because the story of how they all started is so compelling, I will quote it in full, as it’s described on their website:

The Truehope Story

The Stephan Family

Before Truehope… the beginning

Ten children were left motherless the cold January day that Debbie took her own life. She had been suffering the pains of Bipolar Affective Disorder (BAD) for years and finally succumbed to the dark and irrational side of the disease. Somehow, out of the sheer agony and crushing pain of her loss came a determination for Anthony her husband. He began a prayerful and desperate search to find hope and health for their children who were also ravaged by the disease. At the time of her death, two of Debbie’s children had also been diagnosed with BAD. As a desperate father, and after exhausting all known medical routes, Anthony sought the help of a friend. Together these two men established a program of nutritional supplementation that would eventually lead to the recovery of Anthony’s children and the formation of The Synergy Group of Canada Inc. – a non medical research group dedicated to researching and overcoming the disorders of the central nervous system. Debbie’s tragic death had initiated that series of events which would change the grim picture of mental illness forever.

Joseph’s Story

Joseph Stephan exhibited signs of attention deficit disorder as a child. By the time he entered puberty, the symptoms were escalating into panic attacks, delusions and violent fits of rage. Ultimately, he was diagnosed with BAD shortly after Debbie’s death.

Joseph was first treated with lithium, an element used to make batteries, which caused severe side effects. When he refused to take it, he lapsed into severe mania and panic within a couple of days.

Then, on January 20, 1996, Joseph started using the nutritional supplementation program created by his father. The results were dramatic and immediate. Within four days he was off the lithium; within two weeks, his mood and emotional control improved immensely. In the years since, he has maintained his well being and has had no recurring symptoms of BAD.

Autumn’s Story

Autumn Stringam’s recovery is, if anything, more dramatic than her brother’s. At 12, she showed signs of suffering from Bipolar Disorder, a condition which deteriorated throughout her teens. She married Dana, had a child at 20, and was subsequently diagnosed with Bipolar Affective Disorder I with rapid cycles; a daily seesaw of mania and depression. Those eventually gave way to regular visual and aural hallucinations and the belief her husband and other family members were conspiring to kill her. These visions often led her to act out violently.

Following a particularly terrifying episode, Autumn was admitted to a psychiatric ward. After many adjustments to her medications, she was released a few weeks later. Drugged and with her cognition impaired, she “broke through” her medications frequently and was extremely unstable.

After threatening suicide, she was again hospitalized. Upon release, she was taking a pharmaceutical cocktail of Haldol, Rivotril, Ativan, Epival and Cogentin, a combination that failed to control her psychosis. She continued to rapid cycle.

Told Autumn would require round-the-clock adult supervision, Dana took her to her father to begin the alternative treatment, which had helped Joseph. Within four days she was forced to eliminate Haldol and Rivotril because of the drastically increasing side effects. Ativan was no longer required when hallucinations ceased. After one week on the program, she returned home to her husband. Less than a month later, she reduced, then eliminated, the mood stabilizer Epival. Her only “medication” now was the nutrient supplement which would become Empowerplus.

Autumn’s recovery exceeded the expectations of her psychiatrist, doctor and family. The woman who was expected to remain a prisoner of BAD, confined by a medley of psychotropic drugs and pursued by thoughts of suicide for the rest of her life, continues to be healthy and stable to this day.

But perhaps even more compelling is how Autumn, once counseled to be sterilized after the birth of her son, gave birth in 1999 to a happy, healthy daughter, and again in 2001 and 2003 to two more healthy daughters!

“My life is a miracle and an example for all who suffer,” she says now. “There is hope, healing and ultimately, health for all who seek it; there is an alternative to despair.” Autumn spends her time raising her four wonderful children, remains happily married to Dana, her beloved husband and volunteers for her church and community. Hers is a parable of hope to those who follow her footsteps.

Click here to read more about Autumn’s story, as well as video interviews, magazine articles and especially Autumn,s book, “A Promise of Hope”!

Reflections of Faith and Hope

Anthony Stephan, in reflecting on the marvelous recovery of his children, said; “Truly God has answered my pleadings and intense prayers with a great blessing.” Hundreds of participants have borne that same witness and acknowledged the hand of God in bringing restoration to their life or that of a loved one. Hence, we have named this web site “TRUEHOPE” because we believe that true hope can only be found in the healing sustenance that God has provided for us. No man or company or science can ever replicate or replace that which our Creator has provided for us. In seeking to treat the symptom, we have all ignored the Source.

My mother (a pharmacist) had been pointed in the direction of this company back in 2017, however since I didn’t seem to be having any major problems at that time, she didn’t bother looking into it. After my psycho-manic episode and hospitalization in early 2018, she began searching for solutions for me, since despite having succeeded in coming off all my meds, I was far from stable and only just barely getting through my daily life. She found Truehope again in the spring and got in touch with the branch of the company which operates in southern Alberta. The lady she spoke with, Teresa, has since kept in regular contact with us. She was able to give mom very helpful advice and reassurance. They sent us a number of supplements, most importantly the EMPowerplus Advanced micronutrient formula.

I noticed immediate, dramatic results within a day or two of starting the EMPowerplus supplement. Previously, I’d been dealing with high levels of anxiety and panic attacks (the result of my ongoing mania and some mild PTSD from the trauma surrounding my hospitalization), not to mention agitation and racing thoughts. The EMPowerplus completely halted the anxiety and panic attacks, reduced my agitation and slowed my thoughts to something approaching normalcy. This is not to say it made me groggy–I felt none of the fatigue, drowsiness or befuddlement that I was used to living with when taking antipsychotic medication.  I was simply beginning to feel normal again.

I first began taking the supplements in April. By May,  the mania had dissipated almost completely, leaving me with only mild hypomania. Then, as I mentioned, following my exam, I crashed into depression. From my understanding of it, this supplement is more effective for treating mania than depression, but it helps with depression too. However, my body needed to go through a healing process after being on various psychiatric med combinations for close to 6 years. Teresa stayed in touch with me, suggesting supplement tweaks, and promising me hope that yes, the depressive episode would end and I would be stable in the future.

To be honest, I didn’t believe her. But I kept on taking the supplements because there was no way I would ever go back on pharmaceutical medications again. And slowly, the depression eased. The “greyness” lingered, the sense of anhedonia and lack of any creative drive, clung on for months. Then suddenly, in December 2018, it began to lift. My creative drive began to slowly come back to life. My sense of joy and pleasure at life returned. And by January, 2019, I felt completely back to normal.

We’re now partway into March. My stability has remained rock solid in a way it never did when I was on psych meds. The few times I’ve thought maybe I was getting more energetic, and my old fears about mania reared their head, I simply increased the dose of my supplement and added in some Choline for a day or two, and the anxiety and hints of hypomania vanish without a trace. It’s so much more effective than my old medications that it makes the thought of them laughable.

Teresa told me that as long as I’m on these supplements, I won’t ever have a relapse of mania. I didn’t believe her initially, but I do now. I’m back to a place where I don’t even think about my disorder much anymore. I’m still careful with my sleep schedule and I take my supplements consistently. But I’ve stopped worrying about having episodes. Despite having experienced several major former triggers (various stressful, emotionally difficult situations that would have formerly sent me swinging up or down with a certainty) I’ve remained completely stable.

Lastly, did I mention there are no unpleasant side effects with any of these supplements? None. Zero. In fact, I’ve noticed a number of positive side effects: my hair is way healthier, I don’t feel tired, and I find stress way easier to manage than I ever have before. I only wish I could have found these supplements before I started coming off my medications because they would have made the whole process much easier and I probably wouldn’t have ended up hospitalized at the end of it for mania.

If you or a loved one is on any psychiatric medications, I encourage you to check out the Truehope website for their much healthier alternatives. They don’t just specialize with Bipolar Disorder. They also work with ADHD, Anxiety, Autism, Depression, Fatigue and Stress related problems. I’ve heard they also help people with schizophrenia, even though it’s not listed on their website specifically. At the very least, it can’t hurt you to learn more about the alternatives that are out there.

Until next time, take care and God bless!

Kasani

Withdrawal – Part 4: Unpacking the Experience

Hello again, everyone!

First off, I’d like to wish a very belated happy New Year to all my readers. It’s hard to believe I haven’t written a post on here since May 2018. Last year proved to be a long and difficult series of months, but I’m happy to say I’m in a much better place now at the end of January 2019 than I was at the same time last year.

As I mentioned in the previous post in this series, I was hospitalized for a week at the beginning of February 2018 for a full manic episode, complete with psychosis and all that that entails. Following that, I made a number of posts on here, some of which I have since taken down, since I was still decidedly manic while writing them and now either no longer agree with that I wrote, or they simply no longer make sense to me now that I’m stable again. To be honest, it’s taken a full year to begin fully coming to grips with everything that happened. The idea of blogging about any of it before now was something I just couldn’t face. However I’ve been feeling increasingly prompted lately to start writing on here again. So to start, I will finish of this Withdrawal series with two final posts.

Despite what happened last year, I am indeed completely off all psychiatric medications and have been since December 2017 (setting aside the very small dose of antipsychotic medication I took while in hospital). And believe it or not, I’m actually doing much better now than I was back when I was on medications, though I believe this is largely due to the special supplements I began taking in April last year and have remained on since. I will explain about them in depth in my next post.  I detailed my reasons for deciding to ween off my prescription medications back in the first post in this series. In this post I will give you all a summary of how that process went, and the biggest pitfall I fell into.

As I touched on in Part 2 of this series, coming off my antidepressant medication Bupropion (aka Wellbutrin) actually proved to be much easier than coming off my mood stabilizer Lamotrogine (aka Lamictal). The withdrawal from antidepressants resulted in some mild-to-moderate depression symptoms and fatigue, however I went slowly, breaking the pills into smaller and smaller pieces. From April 2016 to August 2016 I weened myself down from 150mg daily, to nothing, dropping by 25mg increments every few weeks. I took a break from pill withdrawal for a little while before attempting to withdraw from Lamictal, since it’s better not to come off multiple medications within a short period if you can avoid it. I didn’t keep as close a record of my Lamictal withdrawal, since it took most of a year (I was on 250mg daily, if I remember correctly). Each drop in that particular medication caused anxiety, disorientation and mixed-episode symptoms that were mild-to-moderate, so I had to move slowly with it. And when I finally came off the last of it on December 17, 2017, I hit a major pitfall.

Early on in December I could feel the very first inklings of hypoIMG_2584mania tickling the edges of my consciousness–more energy, increased cheerfulness and optimism, much stronger creative drive, etc. However I continued to taper anyway and ignored the symptoms, assuming they would go away. What I should have done, was stopped tapering for a while until I was past the Christmas season (always a troubling time for me when it comes to my disorder). But I didn’t. And I mistakenly believed that because I had tapered off the medication so slowly, I wouldn’t have any sort of relapse upon completely coming off of it. It wasn’t until later that I discovered that it’s common to relapse with a manic episode upon reaching a completely med-free state even if you taper off slowly. In my ignorance of this fact, I slipped into a state of denial over what was happening.

Generally I am quite self-aware with my episodes, but with this particular one, I lost all personal insight. As the hypomania began to escalate to full out mania in late January 2018, grandiosity and delusions took over and I became convinced that I wasn’t bipolar, that I had been misdiagnosed all along, and that I was just entering a new state of consciousness, a heightened level of existence (very similar to some of the delusional beliefs I experienced back in my first manic episode). I was in complete denial that I was manic, so I flat out refused to take any of my antipsychotic medication, Zyprexa. No one could convince me to. I actually had someone slip some of it into my drink at one point, unbeknownst to me, but I quickly discovered it and became utterly incensed and even harder to reason with thereafter.

hospital_hall_by_triller14Looking back, I can safely say my irrational denial sprang in large part from the fact that  having to go through another full manic episode had been my worst fear ever since my diagnosis (worse even than a natural fear of death. I had essentially developed a phobia of mania and psychosis). I couldn’t bring myself to admit the reality of what was happening. Even after ending up in the hospital and experiencing the remission of most of my psychotic symptoms, I remained convinced that I had been unjustly hospitalized, and that I had never been manic in the first place. My behavior was normal enough during my hospital stay that I was able to persuade the doctor to release me after just a week. Looking back though, I can see that I remained manic for months after my release. This, of course, was readily apparent to my parents and close friends, however they felt I was manageable and would be better off at home.

Astoundingly, I managed to go back to work right away and continue “functioning” in daily life without any of my coworkers or students picking up that anything was amiss with me (at the very least, no one ever commented on it). Though internally, I was still fluctuating between various mild delusions and paranoia. For instance, I firmly believed the RCMP were following me around and spying on me for several weeks, and could not be convinced otherwise (this was not helped by the fact that the RCMP did in fact show up at the college where I work and kept undercover surveillance on the place for a week, though this was due to an incident caused by some unruly students and had nothing to do with me. It just happened to be very bad timing) . Thankfully, I kept all of these beliefs to myself, only occasionally mentioning them to my parents and close friends, which is likely why no one else in my life noticed.

It wasn’t until April that my family discovered the supplements that I subsequently began taking. These had an immediate effect—my previously high levels of anxiety and agitation almost completely vanished. For the next month and a half I remained in a hypomanic state, still more extroverted, enthusiastic and impulsive than I usually am, but grounded once more in reality without any lingering delusions or paranoia. Thankfully I was able to direct my extra energy into studying for my RCM music history exam, which I took and passed successfully. Within a week after the exam, my hypomania vanished entirely, and I dropped into the inevitable depressive episode that always follows my manic episodes.

The Advantage of Suffering cover photo resizedThis particular episode reached a moderate-to-severe intensity by the end of May, beginning of June, though it was no worse than episodes I had experienced while on medications. It lessened to a moderate level throughout most of June and parts of July, then eased off further to a lingering mild depression that continued into December, when it finally lifted completely. The episode lasted a total of 6 and a half months, by far the longest episode I’ve ever had, though that probably isn’t surprising considering the 5 month hypomanic/manic episode that preceded it. December was actually my only month of stability in 2018, which is ironic since that’s usually my most unstable time of year. That stability has continued throughout January this year. It’s a real blessing to feel normal again. I’ve been told that as long as I stay on my current supplements, I am not likely to experience any future episodes of mania. I would very much like to believe that, but only time will tell for sure.

I did learn a number of important, if painful, lessons last year, which I will unpack in future posts. In particular, it was a time of much spiritual growth. Jesus and Mary were both very much beside me, guiding my steps the entire way, thoassumptionugh there were times when I felt entirely cut off from them and in the dark, and I backslid to a large degree in many of my devotions for an extended time. That, in and of itself, was a learning experience (a strong blow to the spiritual pride I’d been falling into prior). There were times I felt as if I’d gone completely astray and was right back to square one spiritually, my relationship with Christ and my trust in him reduced to tatters. I will delve into that much more in a future series. Suffice it to say, by the grace of God I am back on my feet again with a reinvigorated spiritual life, and a restrengthened desire for growth in holiness. I can safely say that the process of renewing my 33 day consecration to Mary that I began on December 31 and will finish this Saturday, February 2nd (Candlemas, the feast of the Presentation of the Lord), has had a large part to play in my spiritual recovery.

I’ll leave it at that for now. In my next post I’ll explain the supplements I’ve been taking and discuss my plans/strategies for the future. In the mean time, take care, and God bless you throughout the coming year!

Kasani

(Click here for Part 5)

divine-mercy4

Withdrawal – Part 3: Joyful People Suffer

It’s been a long time since I posted anything. Or at least, it feels like a long time. Realistically it’s only been a few months, but that might as well have been a lifetime ago. A lot as happened since then.

I’d like to start with the good news: I successfully came off of my last medication (Lamictal/Lamotrigine) mid-December last year. It was, in a way, the most freeing experience of my life. It precipitated a manic episode that ended with me in the hospital, but that’s all right. I learned a lot from it. Christmas 2017 was beautiful for me. So many blessings. I had a strong re-conversion experience in which I gave my life to Jesus again to do with me what he willed. Admittedly, if I’d known doing that would end with me in a hospital, I probably would have hesitated. But God knows our weakness. He hid from me how things were going to turn out. He wanted my complete and unconditional trust, and he was there for me every step of the way. He and His mother, Mary.

I plan to write a blog series explaining what happened. For now, though, I’m still processing everything and picking up the pieces (i.e. catching up on everything I’m behind on after two weeks out-of-commission, and praying to discern God’s will moving forward). I just wanted to send a shout out to my few followers that yes, I am still alive! And I’m doing great. Just decidedly worn out after everything. I look forward to writing more in the future.

Until then, take care and God bless!

Kasani

(Click here for Part 4)

 

 

 

The Advantage of Suffering – Part 1: Offering it Up

“Brothers and sisters, I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what was lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.” ~ Colossians 1:24

Suffering is an unfortunate fact of life, and people with mental illnesses experience their fair share of it. The suffering is compounded for those with comorbidity (when a person has two or more illnesses occurring at the same time. e.g. Fibromyalgia often occurs in patients with mood disorders) or when personal tragedy strikes. There are no easy answers to the problem of suffering, although a number of excellent books have been written on the subject (Making Sense out of Suffering by Peter Kreeft and The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis are two examples). There’s nothing I can tell you that hasn’t been said more eloquently and with better insight by someone else, but I’m hoping to offer you a way of looking at your suffering that allows you to make use of it to achieve something positive.

pexels-photo-326559First off, allow me to chuck a few assumptions out the window. I’m not going to elaborate on the idea that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” My friend and I have a joke that according to that rule we should both be able to bench-press semitrailers by now. It has some credence. Pain changes you, often for the better. But not always. Then there’s the saying that “pain is just weakness leaving the body.” To be blunt, I think that’s one of the stupidest sayings in existence and anyone who tosses it at me receives a withering glare. Pain creates weakness, not the other way around. I’m not talking about athletes and soldiers who have to physically push themselves to the breaking point to achieve a goal. That kind of pain does make you stronger, in a very literal sense. You become physically tougher, with better endurance and better abilities.

Mental illness doesn’t do that.

Depression leaves you curled in a ball of self-loathing pain on the floor, unable to even decide which clothes to wear and lacking the energy to put them on anyway. Hypomania takes your thoughts, shakes them up like a bottle of pop and makes it impossible to remain seated long enough to read one page of a textbook (which wouldn’t have worked anyway thanks to your racing thoughts), and if it progresses to full-blown mania you might get to spend some time in a psych ward. Anxiety gives you panic attacks that leave you paralyzed, unable to breathe, unable to act, so terrified and miserable that you’re afraid you’re dying. ADHD does the same thing to your thoughts as hypomania, except it’s 24/7, 365 days a year, and people blame you and make fun of you for struggling with a disorder that lots of them don’t even think is real. People with schizophrenipexels-photo-551588a suffer through hallucinations and delusions that very few people can even begin to comprehend. People with borderline personality disorder struggle with the lonely misery of alienating the people they love because of their behavior, which the disorder makes very difficult to control.

The list goes on and on, and outside of a Christian context, it can be difficult to find positive things within that mire of unpleasantness. There are some: You might develop coping mechanisms that give you strength. You might get used to your disorder and become more resilient to its effects. You might become more compassionate towards the suffering of others. Or not. Ultimately, mental illness makes life a lot harder than it would be otherwise, and to what purpose? How can there be an advantage to suffering? How can you possibly turn abject misery into something good? Unless you’re coming at it from a Christian perspective, I don’t think you can.

Now, when it comes to Christianity and suffering, one of the first objections to God that atheists and agnostics toss out is that very thing: why would an all-powerful, all-good and loving God allow suffering in the first place? I don’t claim to have the answer to that, but this post  by Tianna Williams does a lovely job of tackling the subject. For now, I want to offer some concrete suggestions to believers about how suffering can be put to good use. These will not take away your suffering. They will simply give it a purpose, and that can make it easier to bear.

There are two concepts in particular I want to discuss. One of them is Purgatory, and I’ll be attempting to tackle that in Part 2 of this post. As far as I know, Protestants don’t believe in it, so if you’re Protestant then that might not be of much use to you. But there’s a lot of confusion and misunderstanding revolving around the concept of Purgatory and I might be able to clear some of that up for you, so I encourage you to check it out anyway. The other concept can apply to Christians of any denomination, without question, although I’m not sure if it’s something that is discussed much outside of the Catholic church. I’ll tackle that concept first.

keep-calm-and-offer-it-up-7If you’re Catholic, you’ve probably heard of the idea of “offering up” your suffering to God for a purpose. Or you might not have. A few years ago, I had heard about it, but for a long time I had no understanding of its value. I wasn’t close enough to God to feel inclined to try it, especially when I was in the midst of intense suffering. It was an airy-fairy sort of subject that sounded to me like a half-hearted consolation prize handed out by people who didn’t know what else to say to someone in pain. I’ve since revised that opinion. Part of my confusion came from not knowing how to offer my suffering up. It wasn’t as if I could grab it off a shelf and give it to God. I also couldn’t understand how offering God my suffering could have any value. Suffering was forced on me against my will. It wasn’t as if I was making any special effort to do something for God by experiencing it. And then there was the question “if I offer my suffering up, does that mean I can’t ask God to take it away?”

All of this conspired to keep me from exploring the subject. I also, deep down, still resented God a little for having to deal with the suffering in the first place. If you resent God for your suffering then it’s pretty hard to make any use of it at all. It took me a long time to accept the grace that allowed me to pull that deeply rooted weed out of my heart. But once it was gone, I received a whole new dimension to my world-view. Christ’s suffering and death redeemed the entire world. He died once, for all. But that doesn’t make all of the suffering in the world that’s come since his death obsolete and useless. Suffering has merit.

“Dear in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his devoted” ~Psalm 116:15

Other versions of the bible read: “Precious in the eyes of God is the death of his saints.” It means the same thing. God values our suffering. He understands deeply just how much we hurt. It moved him to send his only begotten Son to earth to die for us on the cross. It gave our suffering a purpose. Because Jesus opened up the gates of heaven for us, we can join our suffering to his on the cross and do something with it. I didn’t understand this idea at first. How can I join my suffering to Christ on the cross? For some reason the idea didn’t ‘click’ with me. Then I was given another way of looking at it: because Christ used his suffering and death to pay the price for our sins, we can now go to God with our suffering and say “you used your Son’s suffering to redeem me and the world. Please use my suffering too.”

God can make use of suffering. Don’t ask me how. I don’t know. But he does. When you’re praying for something, maybe for a loved one, or for the resolution of a problem of some sort, you can take whatever suffering comes your way and embrace it for the sake of that intention. You essentially put your money where your mouth is: “God, instead of resenting this bout of depression, I accept it willingly for the sake of my loved one who has turned away from you. Please make use of it to guide her home.” Now, this doesn’t mean you can’t pray for God to take the suffering away. You can. But by accepting it with patience for as long as you’re forced to endure it (or at least making an effort to do so; it isn’t easy) you gain great merit for yourself and for the intention you’re offering it up for. (You can also offer it up as a penance or mortification, but I’ll discuss that in a later post.)

This is one of those things that’s easier said then done. In theory, it’s an exciting possibility. God used his Son’s suffering to redeem me, so he must be able to use my suffering to accomplish something too! In the same breath, we have to keep in mind that we aren’t Jesus. He was a perfect, innocent human being without blemish (not to mention, he was also God). He didn’t deserve any of the suffering he endured on this earth, but he embraced it anyway for our sake. No amount of suffering on our part will ever come close to being worth that kind of merit. Despite being redeemed by his death, we are still sinful creatures. But our suffering can still have great worth when we attempt to imitate Christ by picking up our cross and following him.

This idea also plays into my discussion of Purgatory in Part 2 of this post.

Until then, take care and God bless!

Kasani

 

 

 

Sit Down, Buckle up, and Hang on Tight: Riding the Bipolar Roller Coaster

What is bipolar disorder?

To quote Wikipedia:

“Individuals with bipolar disorder experience episodes of a frenzied state known as mania, typically alternating with episodes of depression.”

It’s a teeny-weeny bit more complicated than that (<— please note the sarcasm in this statement). I’m not going to launch into a full, in-depth explanation, because plenty of books have already been written on the subject. For an excellent, highly entertaining book check out Welcome to the Jungle by Hilary Smith. It’s the first book I read about bipolar disorder, and it’s by far the best. I guarantee you’ll get a laugh—something you won’t be getting from most other books on the subject.

For the purposes of this post, I’ll just walk you through the terminology I make use of on my blog:

mania_by_okbrightstar_d6fwmhl-fullviewManic episode – You’re bursting with energy. Sleep is impossible. You’re either euphorically happy, alarmingly irritable, or paranoid, or some combination of all three. Some people fly into rages (thankfully I’ve never had that problem). Your thoughts are speeding along at roughly a million miles per minute, which starts out exhilarating, but it gets old very quickly (just staying focused on one conversation is difficult, let alone trying to read something or plan your day). The speeding thoughts can enhance your creativity, but you have the attention span of a gnat, so you might start a dozen new projects in the course of a day, but you won’t ever finish them. Your judgement goes out the window. You do stupid things: driving recklessly, maxing out your credit cards on spending sprees, breaking up friendships, quitting your job. Hypersexuality is another symptom. Ordinarily you might be a very chaste, conservative wall-flower, but in the throws of mania you are liable to get into a lot of trouble if you’re in the wrong place with the wrong person (or people). You aren’t in your right mind, so you aren’t morally culpable, but when sanity returns you might end up facing some devastating consequences (this is something I’ve never had to deal with, thank God). If things progress far enough you can become psychotic. You have delusions of grandiosity that leave you convinced that you’re a celebrity, or that you’re Jesus (this is actually a very common delusion, even among non-religious people), or you’re on a mission to save the world, or you’re invincible, can control things with your mind, can fly, etc. Hallucinations are also a possibility. The symptoms of psycho-manic episodes are very similar in some ways to the symptoms of schizophrenia.

Hypomand6uhuht-d7e8ebca-0a65-4cc5-9640-179e1bc594b1-1ic episode – This is another way of saying “mild mania.” Take manic symptoms and turn them down a few notches. It still interferes with your life, but you’re able to function at least semi-normally. Sometimes hypomania can actually be a positive thing, since the extra energy and creativity isn’t compromised by incapacitating racing-thoughts. It can also be quite enjoyable if euphoria happens to be a symptom.

Depressive episode – In other words: depression. Anyone who has ever experienced it probably doesn’t need an explanation. Bipolar depression is very similar to major depressive disorder. Symptoms of depression include utter misery and despair (that’s not despair_by_okbrightstar_d6e8nup-fullviewan exaggeration), crying, lethargy, exhaustion, apathy, loss of interest in formerly enjoyable activities, inability to feel pleasure (anhedonia), morbid thoughts and suicidal ideation, excessive and irrational guilt, intense self loathing, insomnia, loss of appetite and weight loss, and withdrawal from friends and family. There are three potential differences in bipolar depression: firstly, antidepressants usually kick in immediately and have the potential to shoot you over the moon into mania, so you have to be very careful with them (best not to take them at all if you can help it), and they also make you rapid-cycle (see explanation below). Secondly, some people experience hypersomnia rather than insomnia. They are unable to get out of bed for days. This is not due to laziness, but rather absolute exhaustion (the intensity of it defies description) and apathy.  The third potential difference is an increase in appetite, rather than a loss, which can result in impressive weight gain (eating a whole tub of ice cream every day, for example, or sitting down and eating spoonfuls of sugar straight from the bag. It doesn’t help that a number of medications used to treat bipolar have weight gain as a side-effect). When someone experiences hypersomnia or increased appetite  it’s considered an “atypical depression.” I’ve never had either of those problems. My depressions are pretty typical. Unless they’re mixed episodes.

Mixed episode (also known as Dysphoric Mania or Agitated Depression) – You’re depressed and manic at the same time. I’m not joking. This happens rather frequently (in my experience, anyway). Take the emotional anguish of depression, along with its self-loathing, guilt and suicidal ideation, and mix it with the energy, impulsiveness and racingd5qx0m7-f368966b-a45b-418b-bb02-fc34075044d1 thoughts of mania, and you have a very dangerous cocktail. According to the stats, about 40% of people with bipolar disorder attempt suicide at least once in their lives, and roughly half of them are successful. In other words, 1 out of every 5 people with bipolar disorder end up killing themselves. Mixed episodes are the main reason for this. In straight depression, exhaustion and apathy make suicide less likely. Exhaustion and apathy are probably the only two depressive symptoms missing in a mixed episode. Energetic impulsiveness + thoughts of suicide = dangerous. In my experience, mixed episodes are also the time when self-harm urges hit you the hardest (if you’re someone who has that problem).

Rapid Cycling – In ordinary bipolar disorder, a person doesn’t get more than 4 episodes per year (that doesn’t sound like much, but one episode can last anywhere from a few days, to months). But it doesn’t always work that way. If you have more than 4 episodes over the course of a year, you are considered to be rapid-cycling. It’s a common problem in bipolar teens, and as mentioned above, antidepressants can play into it in a big way as well.

So there’s your bare bones overview of some of the terminology I make use of. I’ll try to explain any other stuff I bring up as it comes along in each post. But if you have any questions, please feel free to drop me a comment!

Take care, and God bless!

Kasani

 

 

My Story – Part 1: The Diagnosis

When I woke on the morning of December 24, 2011, the sky was cloudy. I could tell this, not because I could see the sky, but because the light coming in through the metal grate over the window was a cold, grey shade. The window looked out on an enclosed courtyard covered by a large dome of honeycombed skylights. A tree stood in the courtyard and some benches.

I can see these things in my mind’s eye now as I write, but they were not what initially captured my attention. What I first noticed, as I raised my head, were the claw marks on the walls. Someone had dug their nails frantically into the drywall over and over, and perhaps had applied their teeth as well. The first question that came into my mind was not why am I in a child psych ward? I recognized that I was, but it didn’t matter in that moment. What I wanted to know, as I eyed the marks with horror, was whether or not I had been the one to make them. In my drugged haze and the scattered confusion of the still prominent mania, I couldn’t remember any of what had taken place.

My memory came back to me in bits and pieces as the mania diminished, but the first few days of my stay at that child psychiatric facility have remained a fuzzy blur to this day. I do remember being profoundly relieved to learn I had not made the marks on the wall. And what little else I remember is both cringe-worthy and amusing. I have a vague memory of being locked in a padded room on the unit–the one saved for unruly patients when they threw fits–not because I’d been violent but because, as a fellow patient later explained to me with great amusement, they hadn’t been able to get me to stop singing. I hope the nurses in Emergency had a similar sense of humour, because I sang Christmas carols at the top of my lungs for the majority of the nine hours that I spent waiting there, my exhausted mother at my side having long since given up the task of quieting me.

pexels-photo-239853

I don’t remember being told I had Bipolar Disorder. I must have been told at some point, because I remember sitting in a room with my parents as the doctor gently explained to them why they assumed I had the condition. Then the doctor took me aside into another room to discuss the matter with me. I have no memory of what he said, but I do distinctly remember asking him why he sounded like Darth Vader and feeling convinced he was breathing oddly just to see if I would react. I remember his laughter and his assurance that he simply had a cold. And I remember remaining convinced that he was lying to me.

Looking back at my level of paranoia during those first few days of treatment is quite comical.

(For an explanation of the symptoms/terminology I use in reference to bipolar disorder, check out my post on the subject)

My parents received my diagnosis with a certain amount of relief. Whatever was going on, they hadn’t lost me forever. It was treatable. And it wasn’t, as my mother had feared, schizophrenia. But none of us really knew what the diagnosis meant. It was close to a year before I began to really understand what I was dealing with. In those first few weeks, all I knew was that I had been through an incredible ordeal and my life would never be the same. If I had known at that point just how true the latter statement would prove to be, I’m not sure I would have survived it. But as humans, we are blessed with not knowing the future. It’s a greater mercy than any of us realize.

But how had I gotten to the extreme point of needing hospitalization in the first place?

To continue with the boat analogy from the homepage, my little boat had been sailing along without too many glitches for most of my childhood. As I grew into my teens, the waters grew rougher, but what teenage-hood isn’t rough at times? As the waves grew higher and the troughs between them grew deeper, I struggled to keep my little vessel from capsizing. I didn’t understand why the moods I was experiencing were so painfully intense, but I chalked it up to hormones. “Moody” and “teenager” go together like “peanut butter” and “honey.”

1915446_212680410920_4665233_nIt was my horseback riding instructor, of all people, who rang the first alarm bell. I had been riding for about 6 years. My ability, once cemented at a slow but steady rate of improvement, had begun to fluctuate from skilled to utterly incompetent, right alongside my moods. It was infuriating and disheartening, and my horse was none too pleased with me either. My instructor was at her wit’s end. How was it possible for a student to excel at challenging manoeuvres one lesson, and fail miserably at even simple warm-up exercises the next? Having worked with horses for over 50 years, she had developed what I can only describe as a sixth sense. She could see what was going on inside me just by looking me in the eyes, and what she saw concerned her. She spoke to my dad about it.

“Have you ever considered that your daughter might have some sort of disability?”

My father was utterly taken aback. How could someone suggest such a thing? I was a high functioning, capable individual. There couldn’t be anything wrong with me.

Things continued along in this way for several years, a storm brewing secretly beneath the veneer of my everyday life. Then in December of 2011, a month shy of my 17th birthday, the storm broke. I had no way of knowing I was in dangerous waters. I didn’t feel normal, but I didn’t feel bad exactly. I began taking on more than I could handle in commitments and failed to feel stressed out by it. I began to feel I could accomplish anything I put my mind to, regardless of the challenge. I was invincible and life was my oyster. Those of us who have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder recognize such feelings of grandiosity as a major warning sign. In type 1 bipolar, when you reach that point, there’s nowhere to go but up. And I kept going up— much, much too high.

My riding lessons began to turn into rodeos. My horse was highly sensitive and intelligent, and whatever it was he sensed going on in me, he was not happy about it. I was unable to get through a lesson without him trying to throw me. My guardian angel was definitely looking out for me because my horse employed nearly every trick in the equine book to get me off: from bucking and crow-hopping, to rearing and bolting. My riding instructor was floored. My horse and I had gone through a lot of ups and downs together in the preceding months, but he’d never behaved anything like this before. Something was wrong. But we didn’t know what.

That was when my ship finally crashed into some rocks.

My parents didn’t initially recognize that I had become delusional, but they were getting concerned by my increasingly erratic behavior and they kept me home. I knew something was wrong with me, and I had crying spells in which I sobbed out all the various things that had bothered me over the years. This alternated with ecstatic excitement over the belief that I was reaching a whole new level of existence. I had numerous bizarre insights into books and other things that my parents couldn’t make any sense of. I exclaimed “Oooh, I get it. I get it!”  with alarming frequency. Finally, one evening, after telling my parents good night, going to bed, closing my eyes for several minutes, and then leaping out of bed and skipping back into their room declaring “Wow, I had such an amazing sleep!” with total sincerity, my parents realized I was no longer living in reality.

They rushed me to the nearest hospital, an hour away from our small town. By the time we arrived, I was conversing amiably with my guardian angel, convinced I was a prophet from God and that I had the cure for cancer. I was also at some level aware that my behavior was not what it should be, and decided it must be because I had a brain tumor. But, of course, I had the cure for cancer, so everything would be okay.

We spent the entire night in Emergency. I had gotten the idea into my head that the key pexels-photo-236380to moving on into a higher level of existence was demonstrating that I was able to breathe correctly. I spent the night making repeated trips to the reception desk to earnestly inform the nurses there that “I can breathe!” and then returning confusedly to my bed after receiving their forced smiles and nods.

Morning arrived without me having slept a wink. My poor mother had spent the night keeping track of me while my father grabbed a bit of rest so as to be fit for driving the next day. We were sent to another hospital in a larger city, another hour away. A nine hour wait in emergency later (during which time I began to hallucinate and my delusions grew even more convoluted) I was finally admitted to the child psychiatric unit. After going for nearly 72 hours without sleeping, the cocktail of medications I was given kicked in and I slept for most of two days. December 25th found me still in the scattered, confused grip of mania, but my delusions and hallucinations had ceased and my parents were able to come and attempt to celebrate Christmas with me, bringing me a number of presents that would make my stay in the hospital more comfortable.

But the largest, most life altering present had already been delivered to me: I was Bipolar.

(Click here for Part 2)